I'm writing a book about good decisions. Talking to you is chapter one.

You've got me rehearsing texts like it's an audition.

I'd rather be confused with you than certain with anyone else.

Your laugh should be illegal in at least three countries.

I usually talk a lot. You made me forget words.

You're sweet, and I'm trying to cut sugar. Not working.

You seem like the kind of trouble I'd enjoy.

I'd rate you, but you'd break the scale.

My phone lights up and I hope it's you. Every time.

Your eyes have a whole plot, and I'd love to read it.

We should get coffee. I'll pretend I don't already like you.

This was my smoothest line. Did it work?

Can I call you tonight? I want to practise saying your name.

On a scale of one to ten, you're a "cancel my plans".

My heart just sent you a friend request.