"Gosh, Evie, he is looking at you,"
I withdrew my eyes from my novel and looked at Imogen, my best friend who is smiling widely and looking at who ever she was talking about with excitement.
I focused on my novel, picking up from where I left off.
"Evie," she called again, nudging me slightly.
I sucked my teeth.
"What?" I whined.
"Look, that hottie has been staring at you for a while now," she said, making me look in the direction.
My breath hitched a bit at the sight of a boy who looks around my age. He is seated a few seats away from Imogen and I, dressed in a black t-shirt that hugged his muscular body and blue jeans. His hair is short, dark and curly.
And yes. He is actually staring at me.
Why is that?
A smile formed on his lips, making me uneasy.
I dropped my gaze on my novel, wondering what his problem is.
"Damn, that smile." Imogen muttered, making me look at her. She is looking at him in a daydreaming way.
I returned my focus to my novel but I sensed her leaning closer to me.
"He is gorgeous. Isn't he hot?" She whispered.
I covered my face with my novel slightly, ignoring her question.
"I think he likes you. Go and talk to him." She urged.
"Imogen, geez," I said, feeling my cheeks heating up.
"What? He has been staring at you. And oh, he is still staring at you." She said.
I heaved a sigh, trying to resume my focus on my novel. I don't like being distracted from my fairytale world. She loves doing that a lot.
"Hey, put the book down," she said, pulling my novel down.
"Imogen, stop. What is with you?" I asked, getting annoyed.
She scoffed. "Stop sinking yourself in all these mafia romance fairytale bullshit. It doesn't happen in the real world. Focus on the real world for once."
I heaved a sigh, looking at my novel regardless.
"Go and talk to him." She whispered.
"I am not interested." I said, searching for the exact line where I stopped.
Imogen scoffed. "You are one boring girl and you need to change. Seriously,"
I rolled my eyes.
"I wonder how we became friends in the first place." She said, flipping her hair proudly.
I shook my head as i took out my phone from my bag. I saw a text from my driver.
I put my phone and my novel into my bag, got on my feet and hang my bag on my shoulder, claiming Imogen's attention.
"Uh, where are you going?" She asked.
"Home. My driver will be here very soon." I said.
She scoffed. "Why the rush though?"
"Classes are over, Imogen. Besides, I will rather be in my room, drowning in my novels than listen to your nagging," I said, walking past her.
"I am nagging? Seriously, Evie?" I heard her ask but I continue walking ahead.
"Evelyn!"
I heaved a sigh as I walked out of the class. I made steps along the busy hallway, thinking about the interesting part in my novel I was reading before Imogen decided to interrupt me.
She is such an annoying killjoy. I have been reading and waiting patiently for that part.
That part where the mafia boss confesses his feelings for his....
"Evelyn, for goodness sake," Imogen snapped me out of my thoughts as she nudged my shoulder.
I heaved a sigh, moving the strand of my dark hair behind my ear.
"Why are you being so annoying?" She asked while we walked together.
"If preventing myself from listening to your nagging is annoying, then I am Ms Annoying," i said, faking a smile.
She scoffed. "Yeah right. You just want to go home, lock yourself in your room and continue read that shit you call romance novels."
I smiled. "Exactly. You know me so well."
"Ugh, you are lucky I love you. If not I would have broken up with you a long time ago."
I chuckled. "We are not dating, Imogen. Stop sounding like that."
"Well, I am the only relationship you have in your entire life."
I rolled my eyes.
"You need to stop reading those stupid books. The more you read them, the more you crave for a life like that but you will never get it. It is just fiction. Not real life."
"I know that, Imogen. Quit reminding me already." I said, shaking my head.
"You really have to stop. I am serious. I bet you are already craving the life of the female lead." She said.
"I am not craving anything, okay?" I defended.
That's a lie.
I would kill to have a life like Lyric, the female lead in my novel. I feel like she is the luckiest girl on earth to have a man as strong and dangerous as Ace. An alpha male. He does nothing but protect her from his enemies and...
"You are thinking about the book right now, aren't you?" Imogen interrupted my thoughts again.
I sucked my teeth, dropping my gaze and smiling slightly.
"You know what, I am coming over this weekend and I am going to get rid of all your novels. Trust me."
I raised my brows. "Seriously?"
"Trust me. I mean it."
I scoffed. "Very well then. Thanks for telling me your motive on time. I will hide all my books before you get to my house."
She blocked my way, stopping me on my track.
"Look who is trying to play smart." She said, looking at me from head to toe.
I folded my hands and gave her a proud smirk.
"You can't outsmart me. You live in a delusional world and I live in the real world. I am smarter than you." She said, looking at me dramatically.
I let out a chuckle. "Drop it, Imogen. We are not in high school anymore," i said, walking past her.
"High school or not, I am....."
"Evelyn?" An unfamiliar deep male voice stopped us on our tracks.
We turned around and I saw the same boy from class.
This time, I took notice of his six foot height, towering our five four, his diamond like blue eyes, strong scent and good looking face. His eyes are on me and he is smiling brightly.
My uneasiness returned.
What does he want now?
I can also sense Imogen's uneasiness next to me. Hers is worse than mine
I looked at her momentarily. She could explode right now.
Geez, Imogen. Get a grip on yourself.
"Evelyn, right?" He asked, making me look at him.
"Uh...."
"Yes, she is Evelyn. Evelyn Millers. Or you can call her Evie or Eve." Imogen retorted, making me look at her.
What the....
"And I am Imogen Robinson, her best friend since childhood." She said, smiling brightly as she extended her hand to him.
Ugh, too much information. He didn't ask you that, Imogen!
"Imogen, nice." He said, shaking hands with her.
I watched Imogen's flirty body language as she rolled a strand of her hair with her finger seductively.
Oh brother.
"I am Mario Morelli." He said, making me look at him. His eyes are on me.
My uneasiness increased. I looked away, feeling my legs craving to leave.
"Wow, Mario. That's a good name for a hot stallion," Imogen said flirtatiously.
I furrowed my brows slightly, shaking my head in disbelief.
Mario chuckled, sounding a bit deep.
"Thank you, Imogen." He said, making her chuckle.
I looked away, thinking about how to leave without being rude.
"Can I talk to you for a second?" He asked, making me look at him. He is looking at me.
"Me?"
"Yeah," he said.
"Uh...i...."
"Of course you can talk to her. Take an hour even," Imogen said, making me look at her with wide eyes.
"Imogen," I whispered.
"Relax, girlfriend. I will see you tomorrow, okay? Bye." She said, walking away before I could say anything.
And leaving me alone with HIM.
Good job, Imogen. I will get even.
I held the strap of my bag nervously, looking everywhere but at him.
"So....your name is Evelyn."
"Yeah."
"That's a beautiful name." He complimented.
"Thanks. I guess you heard her calling after me back in class." I said, looking at him momentarily.
"Yeah. I did. She is quite loud" He said, chuckling.
I forced a smile, suppressing the discomfort I am feeling because of him.
"Yes. She is loud. And annoying." I said.
"I can tell." He said, looking at me.
I smiled slightly.
"You are really beautiful, Evelyn." he said.
I dropped my gaze, feeling awkward.
"Can I have your numbers?" He asked, making me look at him.
"If you don't mind, i would love to be friends. Maybe we could hang out sometime." He said, reminding me of the boys back in high school.
This was exactly how they spoke to me. It was exciting then but now, and in college? I feel like I want something different.
Something more than just...exciting.
He is cute and all but I feel awkward.
Why is that?
"Evelyn?"
I raised my brows. "Yeah?"
"Did you hear me?" He asked politely.
I nodded. "Yes, I did. Um.....i can't. I am sorry."
His face twitched slightly.
I instantly felt bad like I always do whenever I reject guys.
My phone beeped.
"I have to go. My ride is here." I said.
He nodded. "Alright then,"
I walked away from him, letting out a breath as I headed out of the building.
I sighted Willow, our middle aged driver, standing next to our black Range Rover car, dressed in his black suit as always.
"Hey, Willow." I greeted him as I walked towards him.
"Evelyn," he said formally like he always do as he opened the backseat door for me to my annoyance. .
"I have hands, you know." I said.
"And I have a job, young lady." He said, gesturing to the car.
I shook my head before entering the car and he closed the door.
He never listens.
He got on the driver's seat and we drove off. I leaned closer to his seat.
"Is dad home?" I asked.
"Yes. He came back an hour ago." He said.
"Awesome," I said, relaxing on the seat as I thought about seeing my dad who has been away for a month for some business.
He is hardly home and I hate it. But my mum is always home even though she has her own business, which is fashion. She a very talented fashionista. She makes all my dresses.
I didn't wear one of them today because I felt like wearing a crop top and jean trousers. I always wear the dresses she makes for me. Today was a little exception which she questioned as expected.
I am definitely wearing one of the dresses tomorrow. I want to see that admiration on her face whenever she sees me wear the dress she made like it was her first time seeing it.
It's so funny.
My mum is a totally fun but different being.
I love her that way.
My dad is my hero. But he is not always home.
Oh well, he is back now. At least he will stay for a while before he travel again.
Not long later, we pulled up in front of our huge mansion. Many people call us the rich but mum said we are more than that.
She said we are wealthy.
I got out of the car before Willow could and I headed into the house.
I hate it whenever he opens the door for me. I have hands. But mum insisted that I let him do his job.
Getting towards the living room, I saw my dad, Mr Frederick Millers, seated on his favorite couch, reading his newspaper like he use to.
"Dad,"