Felicity's POV.
Alex's arm brushed mine as the movie flickered across the screen. I was trying so hard to pretend I was absorbed in the plot, but my brain kept skipping like a scratched CD.
Was I really here on a date with Alex? Was I really sitting in the dim glow of the theater, his cologne clouding my judgment, his smile making my pulse trip?
I kept telling myself this was simple. Two weeks. Just two weeks, a silly little challenge, and then Christopher's turn would come.
Except it wasn't simple. Because Alex suddenly leaned closer.
His hand lingered on the armrest—hesitant, like he was asking permission without words. Then, without another warning, his lips brushed mine. Soft. Quick. Shocking.
My eyes went wide. The world around me blurred. The movie faded. Even my breath seemed to pause.
"What was that for?" I demanded.
"Because I couldn't wait another second," he admitted. "You look beautiful tonight."
And then—
"Hello, mate. Fel."
Christopher's voice cut through like a sword.
I jumped so hard I nearly spilled the popcorn. Alex pulled back, glaring, and Christopher slid right into the empty seat on my other side like he'd just won some invisible lottery.
"What are we watching?" Chris asked casually, grabbing popcorn like it belonged to him. "Move over, I want to sit here."
"Excuse me?" Alex snapped. "What are you doing here?"
"Uhh… trying to watch a movie?" Christopher replied with mock innocence. He tossed popcorn into his mouth and leaned back smugly.
"We're on a date," Alex hissed. "Find somewhere else. Not here."
My temples throbbed. "Boys, please. Chris, what are you even doing here? Just—leave."
"Nope." Christopher folded his arms, looking ridiculously at home. "Not going anywhere. Let's all breathe in… and enjoy the movie."
I groaned. "I cannot believe this."
Both of them ignored me. And in that moment, with Alex tense on one side and Chris smug on the other, I realized—This wasn't just a date. This was a war zone.
>>>>>
Alex's POV.
I wanted to punch him. Right there in the dark, with popcorn grease on his fingers and that stupid smirk on his face.
Because I'd just kissed her. For the first time. And she hadn't pulled away. It meant something—I knew it did. Her breath had hitched, her lips had parted just slightly, her whole body had leaned toward me for a fraction of a second.
But then he showed up. Christopher. Always Christopher. It was like Felicity and I were dancing on this thin glass bridge, and Chris had stomped right across it, cracking everything.
"You seriously need to leave," I muttered, keeping my voice low so Felicity wouldn't hear the venom in it.
Chris leaned closer, whispering back, "You seriously need to understand—she's not yours."
I clenched my jaw. "Neither is she yours."
"Correction," he said smoothly, "she will be. Eventually."
Something inside me snapped. "You think this is a game? You think she's some prize you can just claim?"
Chris smirked. "Says the guy stealing kisses during a movie date."
Heat rushed to my face. "She didn't stop me."
That wiped the smirk off his face for exactly two seconds. Then he leaned back, annoyingly calm again.
"Well. Let's see how long that lasts."
>>>>>
Felicity's POV.
The movie's big dramatic scene was unfolding on the screen, but honestly? The real drama was on my left and right.
One boy fuming. The other boy smirking. Both of them vibrating with testosterone like two rival lions who'd accidentally sat at the same watering hole.
And me? Stuck in the middle. I wanted to yell. I wanted to stand up and walk away. But part of me—traitorous, reckless—was also secretly thrilled.
Because two boys were fighting for me. Not just any boys. Them. My heart was confused, but my brain was screaming one clear thing: This was only the beginning.