Page 123 of Hate to Fake It to You

“I didn’t realize practical was the goal.”

“Yes. The new me tries to deal in very realistic advice. And then I wrap it all up with a pithy saying.”

“It’s a marathon, not a sprint?” he suggested.

“If you want to make an omelet, you have to break some eggs.”

“You win some, you lose some.”

“But then you win again.”

Jefferson rolled to the side, pulling Libby on top of him.

“I was going to get you coffee.” It was a mild protest, especially when she undercut it by settling herself more fully against him.

“I’m feeling plenty awake,” he assured her.

“Maybe that’s what I should tell everyone. Some things are better than caffeine.”

“Don’t tell everyone.” He kissed her lower lip, and then the upper. “Just me.”

“Just you,” she agreed. “Love, Libby.”