“Mmm, yeah,” Alicia hummed dreamily at the mental image Adrian was painting. “That would be nice. Wait.” She sat up a little straighter. “What do you mean ‘what else would you do with your time?’ You’d cater to my every need, that’s what you’d do with your time,” she grinned and ordered a bowl of Minestrone and a glass of ice water.
There were very few people Alicia would actually gloat to about the Pride’s success. Adrian was one of them, but he also knew that although she would never cheer against Portree, she would cheer for the Falcons when she was with him. “Of course fifteen goals is perfectly respectable,” she said and leaned over to nudge her shoulder playfully against his. “After all, it’s seven goals more than what was needed if they hadn’t caught the Snitch…”
Pulling out her calendar, Alicia quickly flipped through it, then turned it so Adrian could see. “We’ll be in Falmouth on 27th November, and then in Portree on 11th December. Huh, right before the twins’ birthday that Sunday…”