Lola’s POV

Still fuming, I followed him inside. The air smelled of sugar and roasted nuts, soft music humming from a small speaker in the corner.

The lights were warm, gentle, so different from the harsh fluorescent glow of the mall. Morgan walked as if he owned the place, heading straight for a table by the window.

He slid into the seat, his expression calm, as though dragging me here against my will was the most natural thing in the world.

I sat stiffly across from him, arms crossed. ...