Felicity's POV.
If overthinking was a profession, I'd already be CEO.
Penelope had shoved me into a dress so fancy I looked less like a freshman in college and more like I was about to accept a Grammy. My heels clicked too loudly, my palms were sweaty, my lipstick way too red, and my brain had one command on repeat: Do not think about Christopher. Do not think about Christopher. Do not—
"You look gorgeous. So go out there, kill it, and please, for the love of sanity, don't think about Christopher. I already know what's on your mind," Penelope said, arms crossed.
"Whatttt? I am not—come on!" I protested.
She gave me the look.
"Fine," I sighed. "I love you. And yes, I'm going to kill this."
"That's my girl. Good luck! I'll be watching from the sidelines. You know what I mean." She winked.
Fast-forward: we arrived at the restaurant Alex had picked. Penelope ducked into stealth mode while I marched toward the table where Alex sat, already looking like the cover model of Rich, Handsome, and Dangerous Monthly.
"Oh my goodness, you look gorgeous. Wow, you're breathtaking," Alex said the moment his eyes landed on me.
"Thank you. You look… very handsome yourself," I replied, trying not to combust on the spot.
"Likewise. Shall we sit?"
"We may." I grinned, and Alex quickly pulled out the chair for me.
"Why, thank you. Such a gentleman."
He smiled that perfect smile of his, leaned a little closer across the table, and murmured, "Felicity, relax. You look stunning."
Brilliant. Now I was melting and blushing. My phone buzzed under the table. Of course—Penelope.
Penelope: Need me to fake a fire drill? Blink twice.
I snorted into my drink so hard I nearly drowned in soda. Alex arched a perfect eyebrow.
"Everything all right? Something funny?"
"Perfectly fine!" I squeaked. "It's just that uh… ice cubes. They're… cute."
Ice cubes. CUTE. Someone bury me alive.
Inside my head? Pure chaos. Catch feelings for Christopher bloody Blake? No. Nope. Never. Absolutely not. Common sense? Left the chat, blocked my number, and reported me for harassment.
Worst part? Every time Alex leaned closer with that charming smile, my stupid heart dragged me back to Chris. Alex's touch was polite, refined… but it didn't send lightning through my skin the way Chris did. His eyes weren't as steady. His presence didn't make the room shrink to just the two of us.
And the more I denied it, the more obvious it became. I wasn't catching feelings—I'd already caught them. Like a cold. Like the flu. And apparently, there was no cure. Why was my heart so stupid?
When we finished dinner, Alex did the gentlemanly thing and drove me home. Penelope, meanwhile, hopped into a taxi and headed straight back to my dorm.
Two weeks. That's all it was supposed to be. But under the glow of chandeliers—with jealousy cutting sharp and love burning brighter—it already felt like war.
>>>>>
Mia's POV.
Back during matriculation week, we ended up at a bar afterward. Chris and Felicity were already circling each other like they were the only two people in the world.
At the pub, I had one mission: plot Felicity Paddington's downfall.
Chris's friends—Liam, Brian, and Jake—were drinking like idiots. Easy prey. I slid into their booth, plastering on my sweetest fake smile.
"Hi guys, longest time. How have you all been?"
"Hello, Mia. We're alright," they chorused.
"So… what's going on with Chris and that Felicity girl?" I asked, tilting my head innocently.
Jake shifted uncomfortably, hesitating. But Liam—bless his big, stupid mouth—leaned forward and blurted it out.
"Oh, it started as a bet, but not anymore. He's in love with Felicity."
Jake nearly choked on his beer. "Mate! What the hell are you saying?!"
Brian jumped in quickly. "Don't mind him. He doesn't know what he's saying."
"I'm so drunk," Liam mumbled.
But I didn't hear anything else. My ears were ringing. He's in love with her.
The words stabbed straight through me, then lit a fire in my chest. No. Absolutely not. Not on my watch. Felicity will not steal my man. Not some clueless freshman with a talent for bad decisions. She won't take him. Not while I'm breathing. She doesn't deserve him. I do.
And if I have to burn her paper-thin little fairytale to the ground, I will. The plan was already forming in my mind. I just needed backup. An ally. Someone who hated Chris with Felicity as much as I did. And I already knew exactly where to find him.
>>>>>
Alex's POV.
Later that night, I lounged in my chair, cufflinks catching the light as my mind turned over the next two weeks like a chessboard. Two weeks—that's all I had to tip the scales in my favor. Easy.
Chris? He was blunt, reckless. He thought he could storm in, flash that cocky grin, make some grand gestures, and shout his feelings until Felicity caved. Pathetic.
Me? I was a strategist. Smooth. Polished. The gentleman she deserved—the kind of man she'd never be able to resist. This wasn't about brute force. This was about outclassing him.
And then came the knock. Mia. All glossy hair, sharp eyes, and a smile like poisoned honey. She slid into the seat across from me without waiting for permission.
"Mia," I drawled, eyes narrowing. "How did you find me?"
"That was easy," she purred. "Can we talk?"
"No."
"Don't be difficult."
I sighed. "Fine. Say it."
"Alex," she purred, voice dripping with sugar and venom. "We want the same thing. Felicity out. Christopher humiliated. You get your girl, I get mine. Let's work together."
Her eyes glittered with malice, daring me to say yes.
I studied her, sipping my drink, amused. "Tempting. But I don't need sabotage to win. I don't need partners. I'll beat Chris fair and square. Felicity will choose me."
She only smiled, slow and dangerous. "Think about it. You may need me more than you realize."
I didn't agree. But I didn't exactly say no either. Her words lingered, curling around me like smoke: Take Chris down. Remove him from the board.