“Oh come on,” he grumbles. “Offering compliments is just being a good neighbor, and I’ll be damned if I go through this summer not being a decent neighbor to the girl who turned down my proposal.”
“Fine, but rule number four, no talking about the proposal anymore. I’d like to forget my mistake ever existed and that instead, some random British guy just happened to rent the house next door because you wanted to know what Massachusetts was like, nothing else.”
“I can agree to that. But where do we fall on the visitations?”
“Fine…five, and that’s my final offer.”
That stupidly handsome grin crosses his lips. “Deal. Anything else?”
“Well, we already have no buying things for us, visitation five times a day, no flirting with a subsection added for no winking, and no talking about the proposal anymore on the list. I think that’s pretty solid on my end. Oh, wait, rule number five, no more proposing.”
“Oh, you don’t need to write that down. I’m over the whole proposal thing. A guy can only be turned down so many times.”
“Uh-huh…” I start writing on the paper. “Rule number five, no more proposing.”
“Have it your way, but that’s a two-way road. You can’t propose either.”
I scoff. “Trust me, that won’t be a problem.”
“I don’t know.” He twirls a piece of his hair. “After five visitations a day, you might be singing a different tune.”
“They’re not required visits, it’s just a limit. You don’t need to fill the quota every day.”
“Oh, hold on, one of those visitations is required given our previous agreement. I’d like a subsection added. Rule number two, subsection a: at least one visitation is required a day, and both participants must engage in conversation.”
“Yes, but conversations must be normal. No leotards or guinea pigs should be mentioned.”
“What if they’re mentioned accidentally? I won’t lead with such topics, but if I visit a pet store and happen to see a guinea pig, I think that’s fair game to mention.”
“We don’t have a pet store here.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Fine, but if you start talking about guinea pigs wearing leotards, then you lose all visitation rights.”
“That’s fair. If I start talking about guinea pigs in leotards, then I lose all visitation rights with myself.”
Don’t laugh, even though that’s kind of funny.
Don’t want to make him think that I think he’s mildly charming.
Mildly.
“Well, if that’s it, then I think we can sign and?—”
“Uh, I have some rules.”
“Youhave rules?”
“Yeah, I do.” He clears his throat. “For the record, I’m here for the summer, and I have an agenda, and that’s to get to know you better.”
“Why?”
“Because I came here for you, and my father claims I never see anything through, so I shall see this through. You might not want me proposing, but at least I can get to know you to the point that when I go home, I can tell my father that I spent the summer getting to know someone pretty amazing.”
Well that’s…that’s really…wait a second.
“Hey, I said no flirting.” I point my pen at him.
