But she wasn’t because she doesn’t see anything but BJ. It’s fascinating, actually, being in a room with them. It doesn’t matter who they’re around or what they’re doing. It’s almost trance-like, the way they move towards one another. Like moths to flames. Romantic, nearly. She didn’t see Christian hoping she would notice his hands on another girl, she didn’t see him cupping my arse or his nose in my neck because she was all eyes for Ballentine. She reached over and found a reason to touch his chest, do up a button or something—put something in his pocket, maybe, I don’t know—just a
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my fav toxic, messy couple
