“Is this our life now? In bed by eleven and reading side by side?” I ask. “There goes my youth.” “It’s the perfect night.” Riley stifles a yawn and opens his paperback. “I’ve never been a big partier or someone who likes to go out. The athlete lifestyle isn’t for me.” “You’re wasting away your mid-twenties with someone who uses retinol. That’s perfect?” “Will you stop with the self-deprecating jabs?” He pinches my side, and I squeal. “I want to be here, and I want to be here with you. Deal with it, Armstrong.”
