Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Lucian: Morning, any updates.
Olivia: Updates?
Lucian: I had to drive to NYC to visit baby Luna—and my annoying older brother who needs me to babysit—so I’m missing the updates.
Lucian: Hello . . .
Lucian: You can only ignore me for so long.
Lucian: Did you block me?
Olivia: So, you’ll be pleased to know that the destruction of my clinic continues.
Lucian: Finally. I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.
Olivia: Oh, trust me.
I try. But then something ridiculous happens—like Pete telling me that my floor has to be ripped apart, just like he did to the primary bedroom’s bathroom.
Then, I remember that somehow, this is all your fault.
Lucian: I want to know why blaming me makes you feel better.
But if it helps, have it your way.
Olivia: I’d rather have a functioning business than hurt your delicate feelings, Crawford.
Lucian: Can’t I have both?
A bruised ego and you needing me?
Olivia: I don’t need you.
Lucian: You sure? Because according to Pete, you might need a new place to stay while they work on those floors.
And lucky for you, I have an extra bed.
Olivia: How do you know?
Lucian: He might’ve texted me last night.
Olivia: About?
Lucian: Just wanted to know if I’m aware that my lady may need to move in with me for a week or so.
Olivia: Why would he tell you?
Lucian: Somehow, Pete and Mike believe you and I are an item.
Olivia: Well, tell them we’re not.
Lucian: Why don’t you tell them?
Olivia: Shouldn’t be that something you as their close friends and .
. . whatever you are to them should discuss.
Leave me out of this.
Lucian: Right now I’m more concerned about you and where you’ll be putting your furniture.
I heard you’ll need a bed too.
Olivia: I’m not discussing my bed with you.
Lucian: You can sleep in mine.
Olivia: Absolutely not.
Lucian: What? I’ll be very respectful.
I’ll even let you pick the side you want.
Olivia: Lucian.
Lucian: Olivia.
Olivia: Back to the important issue.
I need to figure out where I’m staying.
Lucian: Yeah, I already solved that for you.
You’re staying with me.
Olivia: No, I’m not.
Lucian: Oh, you are.
Olivia: I am fully capable of finding alternative options.
Lucian: Sure. Let’s think about those.
Lucian: Option 1: Stay in a hotel.
Expensive. Boring. No Sarah.
Think about Sarah, Olivia.
Olivia: She would miss me.
Solution: I’ll bring her along.
Lucian: Obviously, I’m going to ignore your solution.
Option 2: Stay with Aspen.
Except she doesn’t have a house, does she?
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.
Lucian: No? Then why did you stop breathing when I leaned in?
Why did your lips part as if you were waiting for me to taste you?
Olivia: None of that happened.
Lucian: Is this some kind of amnesia?
Selective memory again, I see.
Olivia: You are the only one with selective .
. . hearing, reading, I don’t even know what it is.
Me? I have no recollection of any almost kisses.
Lucian: Oh, baby, I remember everything about us.
The way your pulse raced when I brushed your hair back.
The way you looked up at me, wide-eyed, like you weren’t sure whether to push me away or pull me closer.
Olivia: I was startled.
We were in a very dangerous terrain and I almost fell.
Lucian: Lies. All lies.
Olivia: :ghost: emoji
Lucian: Don’t ghost me.
I’ll stop for now, but one day you’ll be begging—begging for my lips, my tongue .
. . my hands.
Olivia: I will never do such a thing.
Lucian: You’re in denial, but I know that one of these days, you’re gonna stop walking away from me and finally let yourself fall.
Olivia: Not happening.
Lucian: Mmhmm. Keep telling yourself that.
But when you’re lying in my guest bed, wrapped up in my sheets, tell me—will you be touching yourself, thinking about how it would feel if I had actually kissed you?
Olivia: I won’t be thinking about you at all.
Lucian: I bet you’ll slide your hand beneath the covers, close your eyes, and picture it.
My mouth on yours. My tongue sweeping inside, teasing, claiming.
My hands pushing under your shirt, palming your tits, rolling your nipples between my fingers until you arch for me.
Olivia: You’re unbelievable.
Lucian: And you’re wet, aren’t you?
Olivia: I will NOT dignify that with an answer.
Lucian: You don’t have to.
I know. Just like I know, if I were there right now, I’d have you spread out on that bed, legs shaking while I take my time tasting every inch of that pretty little pussy.
Olivia: I plan to ignore your nonsense.
Lucian: You’d try to be quiet, wouldn’t you?
Fisting the sheets, biting your lip.
But I’d ruin that real quick.
I’d grip your thighs, hold you open, make you watch while I lick you slow and deep, savoring every fucking drop.
Olivia: I need you to get over yourself.
Lucian: Nah, you need my mouth on you.
My fingers inside you.
My cock stretching you open while I whisper in your ear how fucking perfect you feel around me.
Olivia: I need to make better life choices.
Lucian: Maybe. Or maybe you just need to admit what you really want.
Olivia: I want peace.
Silence. A new phone number.
Lucian: Liar.
Olivia: Go to hell.
Lucian: I’d rather go to your bedroom.
What time should I expect you, sweetheart?
Olivia: This won’t happen until next week and I’ll probably be searching for another place to stay.
Lucian: Mi casa es su casa.
And I promise to make it fun.