My Dad's Bestfriend

Chapter 139 Hey Beautiful

Evelyn

Sixteen days had come and gone. Well, more precisely, sixteen days, eight hours, and forty-five minutes-I'd always been weak with numbers, but now I was sharp-pretty sharp. Thanks to Jacob, who might have messed up most aspects of my life, but inadvertently helped me strengthen my weakest point-math.

Did I owe him a thank you? Hell, no.

He'd shattered the most resilient part of my being-trust. Now, I knew better than to dole it out like candy on Halloween. There was a hundred percent chance it would get fucking trampled, just like that Italian bastard had done. He fucking ruined me.

God! I might never be able to fucking trust anyone!

With a groan, I rolled out of bed, my feet sliding into cozy slippers. I silenced the godforsaken alarm and stood up, stealing a glance at the mirror. The reduction in my dark circles was a welcome sign-I was making progress, and moving on. So were my dark circles, apparently.

Could I finally consider I was getting over him? Maybe, yeah.

My phone chimed, breaking the silence of the morning. Grabbing it from the nightstand, I unlocked the screen to find the familiar ID glowing-Cameron. Cameron Blake.

My newfound distraction.

I tapped into our conversation, and his text lit up the screen "Awake, beautiful?"

"Just stirring, Charmer," I replied.

"Just have to be enough of a charmer to charm you."

"Well, if you hadn't charmed me, we wouldn't be talking," I found myself smiling this time.

"I am flattered! Anyways, don't be late-I will be waiting for you at the cafe."

"I am never late."

you made

to test

did I

meeting today. Now bye-I gotta go and

down in a proper shower-I shaved, shampooed, and cleansed every inch of my body, ensuring that when I stepped out, I exuded the sweet

but a woman trying to mend her shattered heart after loving a man who treated it like dirt, crushed it underfoot, and laughed in my face. There was no need

days, all in my desperate attempt to evict Jacob from my mind—a futile effort, I must admit. Nevertheless, I persisted. I refused to become that stereotypical heartbroken woman who spends years weeping over a sick bastard. I wanted to move forward, and Cameron stumbling upon my social media after all these years, reaching out to me, felt like a sign. He remembered me from high school, where he saw me as the most beautiful girl in class—a perception I certainly didn't share, but perhaps in his eyes, I was. He was the

how he looked now-still

words didn't sound like he was one. He'd developed quite the flirting skills, which I admired. So, what about his face? It remained a mystery. His social media was sparse on photos, with only a few decent side profiles, but I'd stumbled upon some abs pictures...and they were, well, you know enough to make a girl swoon, but still not enough to

it! Why was I even thinking

me-the bitch in my head

red high heels. Grabbing a small beige bag, I quickly applied makeup, and

myself

mirro

the day but did nothing to spare me

missed his arms around me. His scent. His breath against mine. His lips on mine. I missed

flickered

been calling and texting incessantly, and I'd been avoiding him like the plague. I didn't want to talk to him, no matter how much I missed him. I didn't even want

minutes ago. I'd made the right choice by muting him, but I still couldn't help but check his messages every

"Come in."

at my appearance. "Wow! You look stunning, Evie,"

my spotlight now, only I can compliment that way," I

with a playful smile,

from school, same grade. Apparently, he's had a crush on me for a while. So, I thought, why not make his evening?" I chuckled, "After all, my days are mostly

urged, trying to lift my spirits, "Today's about your date-just enjoy it

by the sound of my phone chiming. It was a text from

looks like