CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHT
**OLIVER WEST**
"Let's sit in the back," Kieran said the moment we entered the darkened theater, his hand already guiding me toward the rear rows.
"The back? But we won't be able to see properly…"
"Trust me, the view will be perfect."
It was the way he said it, with that wicked smile playing on his lips, that made it clear to me that he wasn't talking about the movie screen.
Before I could protest further, he was steering me up the carpeted stairs to the very last row, choosing seats in the corner where the shadows were deepest. My heart hammered against my ribs as I realized exactly why he wanted privacy.
Oh god. He really did think about this.
"Popcorn?" Kieran offered, holding up the massive bucket he'd bought outside the theater.
I stared at the bucket, the thing was drowning in butter - way more than any normal person would ever need.
