"You? What are you doing here?" Yvienna gritted her teeth, pointing at the man standing before her.
The man in the well-tailored black polo—its top buttons undone just enough to reveal the upper part of his chest—widened his eyes as his gaze landed on her.
"Why are you here?!" Kyle shot back, pointing right at her.
Yvienna's jaw tightened as anger simmered within her. Her eyes swept over him—those polished black shoes, the tailored pants, the crisp polo, the sharp jawline, and that annoyingly perfect, well-combed hair.
"Is your forehead alright?" he asked casually.
Yvienna's cheeks burned as the embarrassing memory from yesterday flashed back in her mind. Her fists clenched, ready to wipe that smug expression off his face, when a calm voice cut through the tension.
"I didn't know you two would arrive at the same time, huh?"
