Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Olivia: Update: Your daughter now responds to “ma’am” and has also learned how to guilt trip the trainer.
Congratulations. She’s planning on taking over the world.
Lucian: I knew she had leadership potential.
Tell her I’m proud.
Olivia: No.
I’m too busy cleaning up after her emotional sabotage.
Lucian: How’s that going, by the way?
Trainer still alive?
Olivia: Barely. He asked me today if Sarah is emotionally codependent or just manipulative.
I told him yes to all counts.
She should be in puppy jail.
Lucian: LMAO. I miss her.
Olivia: You mean you miss being the favorite.
Lucian: Not my fault.
I’m irresistible to women and dogs.
Olivia: You’re only irresistible to your dog, no one else.
Lucian: Bold claim for someone who was this close to choking on my name last night during our video call.
Olivia: That was me choking on my drink from laughing.
Get it right.
L ucian: Uh-huh.
Sure, it wasn’t from imagining how good I’d taste.
Olivia: Oh my God. You’re a menace.
That’s it. No more video calls for you, Crawford.
Lucian: A delicious menace.
Admit it—you’d let me pin you against the wall and ruin your life a little.
Olivia: Please, my life’s already a mess.
You showing up shirtless with a six-pack and bad decisions energy would just be the cherry on top of my emotional breakdown sundae.
Lucian: I am the best kind of bad decision.
Hot. Temporary. Possibly regrettable, but unforgettable.
Olivia: You forgot infuriating.
And unnecessarily cocky.
Lucian: If I’m annoying enough, women don’t realize they’ve fallen for me until they’re already naked.
Olivia: That explains so much.
Olivia: Before you digress, Pete just texted me.
Lucian: Uh oh. Did they find an archeological site under your house, and you won’t be able to return like ever?
Olivia: They reminded me about the floor situation and that I should have accommodations by next week.
Lucian: Perfect, you can stay at my place.
Olivia: You’ll be back from Colorado by then.
Lucian: That’s precisely why it’s perfect.
You and me—all the things we can do during those sleepovers.
Olivia: I refuse to move in with you.
Lucian: Except it’s the only option.
You’re taking care of Sarah.
It’s best if she stays at her house during the day.
Think of the child.
Olivia: You did not just “think of the child” me.
Lucian: If that’s even a thing, yes, I did.
I went full dramatic dad voice, too.
Real serious. Emotional soundtrack playing in the background.
Olivia: Is Sarah the child in this scenario?
The one who eats socks and thinks doorbells are a threat to national security?
Lucian: She’s sensitive.
And gifted. Don’t insult her just because she’s smarter than both of us.
Olivia: She literally ran headfirst into a glass door yesterday.
Lucian: She was testing the integrity of the structural design.
We should all be that brave.
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.
Lucian: So, are you moving in with me?
Olivia: Temporarily.
Lucian: Still counts.
Do you want me to leave a note on your pillow?
Olivia: Do that and I’ll put glitter in your shampoo.
Lucian: Kinky.
Olivia: That wasn’t meant to be—UGH.
Lucian: :laughing: emoji
Lucian: Let me know when you’re settled in.
There’s wine in the cabinet, and takeout menus in the drawer, and if Sarah acts up, the trainer said firm tone and treats.
Olivia: You remembered that?
Lucian: I’m not totally useless.
Olivia: Debatable.
Lucian: Oh, and Liv?
Olivia: What.
Lucian: My bed is really comfortable.
Just saying.
Olivia: Does that mean you’ll be moving out of your house while I’m there?
Lucian: No, it means we can have sleepovers, and I get to annoy you from a much closer distance—emotionally and physically.
Olivia: So basically, a nightmare with throw pillows.
Lucian: Hey, I have excellent throw pillows.
Top tier. Five stars on Yelp if anyone bothered to rate my throw pillow game.
Olivia: I feel like they’d be filled with sarcasm and bad decisions.
Lucian: They are. But they’re soft and judgmental—just like me.
Olivia: Wow. Tempting.
Living with a man who talks too much, flirts constantly, and probably leaves beard trimmings in the sink.
Lucian: I do talk too much.
The beard trimmings are a case-by-case thing.
But the flirting? That’s just part of the welcome package.
Comes with daily compliments, fresh coffee, and unsolicited backhanded pep talks.
Olivia: Do those come with a warning label?
Lucian: “Caution: May cause blushing, eye rolls, and the occasional overwhelming desire to climb on top of me.”
Olivia: Bold of you to assume I’d climb.
Lucian: You’re right.
You’d drag me into bed like the take-charge woman you are.
Olivia: Is it weird that I don’t hate how smooth that was?
Lucian: Not weird at all.
Happens to most people right before they fall in love with me.
Olivia: If I survive this week without strangling you, it’ll be a miracle.
Lucian: While you fantasize about choking and all those kinky scenarios, I’m heading to dinner.
Talk soon, Liv.
Olivia: You’re impossible. TTYN!