Chapter 1 —Eva #2
I picked up the box and lifted the lid, revealing a shiny bracelet with pearls that glittered in the light. My brows rose in surprise. “Emi, this is beautiful….”
Her lips curled into a gorgeous smile. “It’s nothing, really,” she said, trying to sound modest.
“No, it’s everything!” I blurted, my voice filled with excitement. “Especially because I didn’t get you anything.”
“It’s the thought that counts.”
My heart melted, and my expression softened by the second. “Thank you.”
She hesitated for a bit. “Don’t make this weird.”
A barista appeared at our booth. “Here you go,” she said, setting our orders down with a curt smile. “One caramel latte for you.” Her eyes flicked to Emika as she placed it in front of her. “And a double espresso for you.” She handed me mine.
“Thank you,” we chorused.
“Enjoy.” She beamed at us and then walked away.
I strapped my new bracelet around my wrist and fastened it. My gaze lingered on the piece of jewelry for the next few seconds, adoration flickering in my eyes. “I owe you one, Emi.”
“Like hell you do,” she answered, a small grin tugging at the corners of her lips.
I opened the card attached to the bottom of the small box and read the inscription. “Roses are red, violets are blue. You’re the coffee to my creamer and the sugar to my brew.” My smile broadened. “Aww, that’s sweet.”
She sipped her drink with a dramatic smile.
“It’s a little cheesy, though, don’t you think?” I teased, deliberately stealing her joy.
She rolled her eyes with a quiet groan.
“I mean, think about it: Violets aren’t blue. They’re actually their own color…violet.”
“It’s called poetry, Debbie Downer.” She flicked me off, frowning at my dry logic.
I laughed, leaning back in my chair, the cushion soft against my skin.
After my chuckle faded into silence, my reality flashed through my mind, a harsh reminder that this blissful moment was temporary.
“All right. Spill,” Emi said, her gaze fixed on me.
“What?” I asked, genuinely confused.
“You’re doing that thing with your face again.”
“What thing?”
“The I’m worried about something that’s eating me up, but I’d rather keep it to myself thing.”
I stirred my espresso, watching the foam ripple as I wondered how she always read me like an open book.
“You look like a sad little doll,” she said. “Now talk to me.”
I heaved a sigh and rubbed my eyes. “It’s my father.” I met her gaze, trying to gather my thoughts. “He’s mixed up with loan sharks and people who think threats are communication.”
A scowl settled on her face.
“It’s so exhausting, Emi,” I murmured, covering my face with my palms.
“Then stop it,” she said. “Stop cleaning up your father’s mess all the time. He’s a grown man, for Christ’s sake.”
I shook my head. “It’s not that easy, you know.”
“That’s your emotions talking.” She leaned in, taking my hands off my face.
“Look, I know you feel like you owe him something, like he’s your responsibility, but he’s not.
” She paused, letting her words sink in.
“It’s the other way around, Eva. You’re just twenty; you shouldn’t be carrying so much of a load. ”
“If I don’t, who will?”
“He will!”
I scoffed. “Oh, trust me, Emi, he won’t.”
“Then let him face the music,” she pressed on. “He makes the mess; he deals with it. Simple.”
I lifted my drink to my lips and took a sip, wishing it were that easy. While my brain was literally spinning with a myriad of thoughts tugging at it, I overheard someone behind us talking about a deadline he needed to meet.
And that’s when it hit me.
“Holy shit!” My eyes widened, panic setting in.
“What? Is your father right behind me?” Emi glanced over her shoulder.
“No. Worse. My research analysis is due in a few hours, and I’m not done yet,” I said, panic creeping into my mind.
“Uh-oh. That’s not good.”
“It’s bad. It’s really bad,” I answered, picking up my backpack from the empty space beside me. “I’m so sorry, Emi. I gotta run.”
She leaned back in her chair. “I’d come with you, but that’s your cross; you carry it.”
I chuckled, slinging the backpack over my shoulder. “Raincheck?”
“You bet.”
“I love you.” I slid out of the booth and had barely taken about three steps when I stopped in my tracks.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Emi asked.
I turned around, walked back to the table, and grabbed my espresso. “Bye!”
My heels clicked rapidly on the floor as I hurried out of the cafe.
Outside, my eyes squinted by a fraction, adjusting to the sun's brightness. I sipped my drink while rushing down the sidewalk, glancing at my watch every now and then.
In less than ten minutes, I was already at the campus library, climbing up the wide steps at the entrance. I pushed the doors open and stepped into a different world: calm, quiet, and serene.
The scent of aged paper filled the air as I walked down a lonely aisle between two giant bookshelves. A few students sat in silence at different tables, studying under the soft light.
I found my way to the psychology section, hunting for the single book my professor said we must all reference. I sipped my drink, savoring the flavors dancing on my tongue as I scanned the spines until I spotted the book.
The Physics of Emotions: Attachment and Abandonment.
At last.
I reached for the book, but before I could pull it out from the shelf, someone grabbed the spine from behind me. My breath hitched in my throat at the sight of the hand that touched the book. Larger. Masculine. Steady and more claiming.
The rich scent of this man’s cologne invaded my senses in a way that drew my attention to him. My heart stopped for a moment when I faced him, drinking in his physique.
The man was tall, maybe six-foot-plus, lean and fit—like a blade honed rather than a hammer forged. His hair was a dark chestnut, swept back with a precision that mirrored his chiseled face.
This stranger’s icy gray eyes were hooked to mine, sharp and analytical. His angular jaw and high cheekbones accentuated his ruggedness, his blank expression at once intriguing and disturbing.
He was dressed in a dark turtleneck shirt, perfectly tucked into a pair of tailored black pants. His shoes were polished to a shine, and his broad shoulders added a touch of ruggedness to his overall look.
“Um….” I cleared my throat, attempting to keep my voice even. “I need that for my paper.”
He didn’t respond, didn’t take those icy gray eyes off me either.
I couldn’t tell whether he was a library staff member or a professor. But judging by everything superficial about him, he sure didn’t fit into either category. His cologne alone smelled like it was expensive enough to buy this whole building.
“I was here first,” I added, refusing to be intimidated by his stare.
He still didn’t respond.
I felt something between irritation and fear bubbling up inside me, but I wasn’t going to back down now. My grip tightened around the spine of the book, and I yanked it out of his hold.
“This is a library, not a gladiator arena,” I said, holding his gaze as if daring him to make any funny moves.
Again, this man didn’t say anything, but this time, his lips curved into a small grin.
Quietly, I walked away, deliberately refusing to quicken my pace even though I felt his gaze lingering on me. I found a table nearby and settled in, pretending not to notice he was still staring.
I brought out my laptop and forced myself to keep my focus on the screen. The clock was ticking, and I couldn’t afford a distraction right now—not even from a hot, mysterious man.