Dirty Little Secret

twenty-seven | brotherly visits

Riley

"Since you're so convinced I don't know anything about you, tell me things." I lazily drag my fingertip up Lucas's chorded arm.

"Hm, what do you want to know?" Lucas asks, his voice rough and quiet.

I twist my lips to the side in thought. "Everything?"

Lucas chuckles and rolls onto his side. "My birthday is—"

I interrupt him. "I know when your birthday is."

"Yeah?" He arches a dark brow. "When is it?"

"March... seventeenth?"

"Sixteenth." He corrects.

"I was close," I mutter, resting my temple on the heel of my palm.

"I was born in North Carolina, but raised mostly in Texas. Dad is a lawyer. Mom is a doctor." Lucas looks up at the ceiling. "When I was three, I broke my arm riding a tricycle."

I chuckle. "That sucks."

"I don't remember it, but my mom kept the cast." He grimaces. "Anyways, my favorite color ranges from all sorts of blues and greens. I hate sleeping in socks. Cats kind of freak me out a little bit, but they're cute."

I gasp. "I love cats!"

"But you hate the ocean," Lucas mutters before clearing his throat. "My favorite singer is probably... I don't have one. I like them all." He hums. "If I had to pick, maybe ABBA." We both smile and he winks. "My grandpa got me into music. He used to take me to music stores all the time, and his basement was filled with different instruments."

"You got you into hockey?" I ask curiously.

"My uncle. He wasn't as big on football as Dylan, Gabe, and Dad were. And it's fun, but not as exciting as hockey." He shrugs.

"Did you ever want to go pro?"

"Hm, maybe when I was little." He shrugs again. "I dunno. It's fun, and there's something about the adrenaline, but I don't want to do it forever. The NHL is demanding. You move around all the time. You barely get any time off. I mean, if I were married, my wife would have to quit her job." He combs his fingers through my hair. "Do you want to get married?"

"What?" My heart rate picks up.

Lucas's eyes widen. "Oh, not right now. I just meant, is that something you want? Like, do you see yourself getting married one day?"

"Oh." I awkwardly chuckle. "I mean, I always have, yeah."

"With kids?" I nod and a soft smile appears on his lips. "Good to know."

I lay my head on Lucas's bicep, using it as a pillow. "How old were you when you knew you wanted to go into marine mammalogy?"

"Six."

My eyebrows raise. "Six?"

Lucas nods. "Well, I was obsessed with dolphins when I was six. Then whales at seven. Sharks at nine. The list goes on. I didn't have a specific career pinpointed until high school." He rests his palm against my hip. "And I did a lot of research before deciding on marine mammalogy."

"What were your other options?"

"Marine Biology." He scrapes his teeth across his bottom lip. "That's about it."

I laugh. "So basically, you were torn between dolphins and seaweed and just dolphins?"

Lucas nods his head to the side. "Yeah, pretty much."

We spend the next hour lying in bed and talking before my physical therapy session.

"Text me when you're done," Lucas says, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. "Good luck." He says before walking out of my dorm.