One's a dating disaster; the other, a notorious heartbreaker nicknamed "Smooch Machine." How will their odd romance unfold? I teased Max, "You know, you really need to up your boyfriend game, or I might just have to find a new Mr. Right." Max grinned, unfazed, "Let's be honest-you're not exactly a cover model, you're about as sharp as a marble, and you're more couch potato than go-getter. You get cereal mixed up with soup, and when push comes to shove, you're more likely to trip over your own feet. Really think there's a line of suitors out there?" I stopped for a moment. He was making sense. He flashed a cheeky smile, "I adore you, quirks and all. But seriously, who else is gonna put up with your brand of crazy? You're kinda stuck with me. Cool with that?" I latched onto the 'adore' part and nodded with glee. Only later did I realize that my whole plan to set things straight had turned upside down.