Page 47 of Texting, Trouble & Touchdowns
Olivia: How do you know that?
Lucian: Option 3: Sleep in your clinic like a deranged woman, curled up on an exam table. No, wait, they’re also tearing that place down.
Olivia: I can fly back home and just sell everything.
Lucian: You can’t give up so soon.
Olivia: I don’t have any options.
Lucian: This brings us back to Option 4: Staying with me. Rent-free. Sarah included. It’s a ten-out-of-ten experience.
Olivia: You forgot to list Option 5: I’ll make you disappear and take your house for myself.
Lucian: You’d miss me too much.
Olivia: Doubtful.
Lucian: Oh, sweetheart. You wouldn’t last a day without someone to bicker with.
Olivia: If I —hypothetically—stay would I get my own space?
Lucian: You drive a hard bargain, Doc. But fine. I’ll let you have the guest room.
Olivia: And you’ll leave me alone.
Lucian: I’ll try my best.
Olivia: That doesn’t sound promising.
Lucian: It’s not.
Olivia: Unbelievable.
Lucian: You should believe it. I’m a very hospitable host.
Olivia: More like an insufferable one.
Lucian: Tomato, tomahto.
Lucian: But just so we’re clear, if you start wandering around the house late at night in those little shorts I know you sleep in, don’t blame me if we accidentally run into each other.
Olivia: You do not know what I sleep in.
Lucian: Oh, I do. You forget I’ve seen you in the morning, sleepy and grumpy as hell, wearing those tiny-ass pajama shorts that should be illegal.
Olivia: That was ONE time.
Lucian: One time was enough. Burned into my memory. Like our hike.
Olivia: What about the hike?
Lucian: Oh, Liv. Are we playing pretend now? You know precisely what I’m talking about.
Olivia: Humor me.
Lucian: The hike. The moment. The almost kiss.
Olivia: There was no almost kiss.
