You had always been the jealous type. It wasn’t your fault your boyfriend, Evander, was charming, and girls seemed to flock around him. And every time you caught him talking to another girl, you would sulk for an entire week, giving him the cold shoulder.

That evening, the two of you sat down for your study group. But you couldn’t hold back anymore.

You crossed your arms, glaring at him. “Who was she?”

Evander looked up from his notes, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh, my other girlfriend.”

Your jaw dropped. “Girlfriend?” you echoed, eyes narrowing.

“Yeah,” he teased, leaning back casually. “My other girlfriend.”

That was it, you pushed back your chair, ready to storm off. But before you could take a single step, his hand shot out, catching your wrist. In one smooth motion, he tugged you back down right onto his lap.

You froze, pouting stubbornly as he wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you trapped against him.

“Baby, I’m just joking,” he murmured, his tone suddenly softer. “She’s no one. You’re the only one who makes me crazy.”

You still pouted, lips jutting out adorably. Evander leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, his thumb stroking your cheek.

“Don’t sulk, alright? I like it when you pout… but I love it more when you smile for me.”