Page 4 of Texting, Trouble & Touchdowns
“Because apparently, we’re co-parenting now,” he says dryly. “I’m going to need updates.”
I hesitate. “You’re serious?”
Lucian arches an eyebrow. “You’re literally holding my dog hostage. Yeah, I’m serious.”
Aspen snatches the phone from his hands and starts typing. “Here. Just because knowing she has an emergency contact in town will make Mom feel better.”
I glare at her.
After a few moments, my phone buzzes. I look down.
This is Luc :wink: emoji
Seriously? He’s winking at me? Are we thirteen?
I scowl, lifting my gaze. “Now that we’ve exchanged numbers, you can go.”
He points at Sarah. “Yeah, I have to get my dog first.”
I cross my arms. “Nope.”
Aspen claps her hands. “Okay, new plan. Maybe, just hear me out, he helps with the couch, and then you release the puppy. You can’t have dogs, Liv.”
I narrow my eyes. “I can have pets if I want to.”
Aspen looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “Then I don’t understand why you chose to become a veterinarian.”
Fine, so when I was eight, I told my parents I wanted to become a zoologist because they wouldn’t let me have a panda. From panda, it shifted to wanting a puppy, but they also refused to buy us one. So . . . I said I’d become a veterinarian. Years later, I became one, but my motives obviously changed. It wasn’t just to be around dogs; it was because I want to help animals. I can’t believe my sister doesn’t understand that.
“We don’t have all day, Liv. You need to make a decision.”
“Maybe,” Luc states, “I could just take my dog.”
I huff. “Fine. He helps. Then I consider giving Sarah back.”
Lucian rolls his shoulders as he steps inside. “That’s all I had to do? Help with a couch?” He shakes his head. “I was going to offer to help anyway, you know.”
“Oh, how generous of you,” I say.
He smirks. “I know. I’m a giver.” Then, Lucian steps close to the monstrosity, assessing it as if it were a game-time strategy. “You were trying to shove this thing through the doorway like that?”
“Yes,” I say, defensive.
He shakes his head, moving to the side. “You could pivot it, you know?” Then he grips the base and, with entirely too much ease, lifts the couch, angling it just right. It slides into place as if it had never been an issue to begin with.
I stare.
He smirks. “You’re welcome.”
I purse my lips. “I still get to keep the dog.”
Lucian rolls his eyes. “Listen, just because my fathers raised me right, I’ll help you with the rest of your furniture, but after that I’m taking my dog with me.”
I give him a challenging look. “We’ll see about that, but thank you for helping.”
Chapter Two
Lucian
