Page 75 of Texting, Trouble & Touchdowns
Olivia: You’re impossible.
Lucian: I’m pretty sure you enjoy my charming nonsense.
Olivia: Or I just enjoy correcting your wrong opinions. It’s basically a full-time job.
Lucian: So you are moving in. Look at us—already sharing responsibilities and bickering. Just say the word and I’ll print our joint custody agreement for Sarah. After we discuss the terms of our . . . partnership.
Olivia: I want full custody. You can have visitation rights on alternate Thursdays. There’s no partnership.
Lucian: Wow. Harsh. I see how it is. Steal my dog, my heart, my home?—
Olivia: Please don’t drag your heart into this. That thing is ninety percent sarcasm and ten percent commitment issues.
Lucian: You get me. That’s why you should move in. We can share all the responsibilities of roommates—with certain benefits.
Olivia: Because I understand your emotional range?
Lucian: Exactly. And because you’ll need someone to yell at when the renovation inevitably turns your entire life into hell—because it’ll happen.
Olivia: Great. Can’t wait to be the reluctant co-star in Surviving Lucian: A Cautionary Tale.
Lucian: Title’s already taken. I’m workshopping Living with Lucian: A Story of Regret, Lust, and Dog Hair.
Olivia: I’m not sure which part is worse—regret or the dog hair.
Lucian: Trick question. It’s the lust. You’ll be tragically into me by day three.
Olivia: Only if you show up shirtless with your trademark smug face and cook something that smells like poor decisions.
Lucian: Noted. Smug face: check. Shirt: optional. Emotional manipulation via food: in progress.
Olivia: Why do I feel like this ends with me locked out of my own bathroom and emotionally attached to a man who uses dry shampoo?
Lucian: I do not. I repeat, do not use dry shampoo.
Olivia: Ugh, I need help.
Lucian: You already have it, me. You’re welcome.
Olivia: Pass.
Lucian: Your options are minimal. You might have to sleep in your backyard.
Olivia: Don’t tempt me. I have an unused camping kit in the garage, and zero shame.
Lucian: Just take the house. Use the guest room. You already have the door and alarm code.
Olivia: You realize what a logistical nightmare this is, right? I’m in the middle of dog training, two renovation disasters, and a house full of dust, and now I’m supposed to live inside enemy territory?
Lucian: You say “enemy,” but I say “the best place on earth.”
Olivia: Do you always have to be so cocky?
Lucian: It’s not cocky if it’s true. I’m just confident . . . and statistically correct about how charming I am.
Lucian: Plus, it’s in my contract. Page one, bold print: “Must remain insufferably confident at all times.”
Olivia: Sadly, I believe there’s a clause like that.
