Tell him my girl comes before football. Tell him my girl's breakfast comes before football.

Mom told me that love is like a seed. You've got to plant it to grow. But that's not all. You need to water it. The sun needs to shine enough, but not too much. The roots have to take hold," he continued, narrowing his eyes in concentration. "And from there, if it pops its head above the surface, there are about a million things that could kill it, so it takes a whole lot of luck too.

Then, lifting me up, his head fell back and he opened his mouth wide. “Once I let Lucy Larson into my heart! I was able to take my sad, shitty song and make it better!” he sung, off key and at full volume. Some of the students around us tipped their beers at him, some broke in during the “Nah, nah, nah,” chorus, and a few looked at him like he was a crazy man.
But I just laughed—I already knew he was crazy. And I loved him for it. “I think that’s called taking creative liberties with the lyrics.

Jude had promised me that the money and the fame wouldn’t change him, and he’d been right. He still swaggered around in his Cons and Levi’s and drank cheap beer, but, most important, he still looked at me like I was his whole world.

Ese chico roto en la playa parecía como hace una vida. Los años habían pasado, colegio y la NFL, matrimonio y un bebé, pero de vez en cuando, cuando Jude miraba hacia mí y me daba esa lenta mirada, con esa sonrisa conocida en él, yo era esa chica en bikini negro de nuevo, anhelando por un chico que nunca pensé que podría ser mío.

That man made me feel things I never imagined could be felt. He made me want things I wasn't sure I could have. He made me need things I didn't know existed.