Sometimes it feels good to be a couch potato

You spot a redhead stretched across the couch like the afternoon has nowhere better to be, and neither do you.

You take in the lazy curve of a hip, the way fabric has shifted just enough to make your pulse do something embarrassing, the pale skin catching light in a way that demands your full attention.

You already know you're not going anywhere — not with a view like this pulling you in, every soft line and careless pose making the word "couch potato" feel like the most appealing invitation you've ever received.