Our Lives Need a Rewrite (og; being rewritten)

Chapter 2 - We're Not Talking About Art

Allison Davis

The next morning, after Sophia had left, I made my way across the street and rang the doorbell of the infamous ex. It wasn't answered immediately and I could distinctly hear yelling in the background.

The door swung open and the man who greeted me was not who I expected to see. "I'm terribly sorry for having you wait so long on the door-" he cut off suddenly. I recognized the accent with dread and looked up at the auburn haired Brit. "Oh, hello, it was Ms. Davis, wasn't it?"

I snapped my mouth shut, ashamed to say I couldn't string together a sentence as I was too shocked to see the man. He glanced around suspiciously. "Are you stalking me?" he asked.

"What? No! I live across the street. I was just coming over to introduce myself but I guess I don't have to," I frowned. "And you can just call me Miss Davis, thanks, Mr. Carter."

He whistled softly. "You seem to be very chilly on this fine morning," he pointed out. Before I could grace him with an answer he turned around. "Hey Milo! The neighbor's over."

The familiar blond man came down the hall, shirtless with low-slung sweatpants stained with paint. Mr. Carter handed him a five-dollar bill when he approached. "Wha-"

"We made a bet on how long you could resist," the man called Milo informed me. I looked at him incredulously.

"Resist coming over here to introduce myself?"

"No, resist me, obviously," Milo looked dead serious. "I have to admit, you are a looker. I thought you'd come knocking before September. Silas thought it wouldn't be until October. But it turns out I was right once again. Girls who look like you always come knocking."

I gagged exaggeratedly. "You're a pig," I snapped. He grinned.

"I'm an artist," and I noticed the slight British twang to his words. They were both from the UK.

"I hadn't noticed," I kept my voice neutral.

"You mean you weren't looking at the canvases out the window, but at me?" I gaped at him. "Yes, you're not very discreet."

I glared at the pair of them. "But it's alright. I'm not picky with my works."

Carter rolled his eyes. "You're disgusting."

"You're not talking about art anymore," I growled. Milo smirked.

"Why don't you come inside and decide for yourself?"

"Miss Davis, I strongly advise you not to do that."

"Did I look like I was going to, Mr. Carter?"

"Women are always tempted," he smiled sincerely. I scowled.

"Lucky for me, I've had fair warning about Milo," I snapped. Milo looked vaguely interested.

"Really? Who?"

"Sophia Marshall." Milo looked faintly amused. In fact, he actually started laughing.

"I'm sorry but Sophia actually has the nerve to say anything bad about me?"

"Milo, why don't you go inside?" Carter looked slightly panicked and I realized that Milo looked mildly irritated. He did go inside and Carter blocked the doorway.

"I'm sorry, he gets a little angry too quickly," he smiled apologetically. "I'm also sorry for how crude he is."

"You didn't really jump at the chance to quiet him though, did you?" I pointed out coldly.

"I'm sorry," his smiled slipped a bit. "I was under the impression that you were an adult that was fully capable of taking care of her self, Davis."