I scroll through the endless sea of options on my phone. Not a single dress catches my eye. It's as if the designers of the world have collectively run out of imagination, offering nothing but bland, lifeless creations. There's no spark, no allure to stir even a whisper of intrigue. If I, a woman with every reason to want to feel seductive, can't find these dresses the least bit enticing, what chance is there that Vikram would? I snort bitterly at the thought.

"Whoa. They look hot."

The voice behind makes me jump. I whip around, my heart doing a little jitter-step in my chest. It's Rayan, leaning casually over my shoulder, his eyes fixed on the screen of my phone.

"For God's sake, Rayan. Do you mind? You can't just sneak up on people and—peek into their phones like that!" I hiss through clenched teeth.

"First of all, it's not the first time I've peeked into your phone. And second—and this is the real question—since when did you start taking an interest in such flimsy little outfits?"