Vivian sat sprawled on the couch, her oversized sweatshirt swallowing her frame. She crunched on a kernel of popcorn, her eyes glued to the screen where Christian Grey smirked with that maddening intensity.
Her focus, however, wasn’t fully on the movie. It was pulled—yanked, really—toward the couple in the corner of the room.
Vivian’s fingers twitched, tightening around the popcorn bag as she watched Jack's hands roam over Lola's shoulders like he owned the place. His movements were slow, calculated, with the kind of confidence that only came with being completely unaware of how obnoxious you were.
Vivian inhaled sharply through her nose. Why is he still here?
Jack’s lips landed on Lola’s bare shoulder with a loud smack, the sound cutting through the dialogue of the movie like a knife
