My Dad's Bestfriend

Chapter 165 Torn Hearts

Evelyn

I shouldn't have done that. It was the only sentence that echoed in my mind. Nearly four hours had passed since that kiss, and the sounds of birds starting to chirp outside my window in the garden didn't escape my ears. Morning.

I shouldn't have done that.

As I landed strokes on the canvas, the beauty of his mesmerizing green eyes slowly came to life. Each detail made them look more real, weakening me with every passing second. But I kept painting. Even though I didn't want to feel close to him, painting him was doing exactly that. Yet, I knew I needed it-I needed to feel close to him. Because that kiss, though I told him it meant nothing, meant everything to me. A kiss that lasted only a minute, yet with a few strokes of his tongue, our fingers tangling in each other's hair, our heartbeats syncing, our bodies melting, worlds colliding, winds stopping inches from our skin because of the sudden heat radiating from our lips touching, all that happened at once... could never mean nothing.

It meant everything-everything we once were, everything we once experienced, and everything we have become now.

Fuck! The kiss was a bad idea. I couldn't speak for Jacob's state, but it had put me in a tough situation. I couldn't get it out of my head-the kiss, the way his lips felt against mine, the way his hands gripped my hair as he pulled me closer. It now felt like he was in my goddamn lungs!

And then came the sting. I had to pull away, despite every fiber of my body, every inch of my being, every fraction of my soul begging me to embrace him and never let go. But I pulled away. Without turning around, I walked back into the house, not daring to glimpse his face because I knew I'd lose it if I did.

Since then, after walking back into my room and slamming the door shut, I had gathered my art supplies and began painting him. I felt numb after breaking the kiss, and I needed to feel something. Only Jacob, in this entire world, had the power to make me feel alive.

I laid more paint on the canvas, blending the shades to create his perfect skin tone. God, his skin... I missed the warmth of it, the way it felt so perfect against mine.

My throat tightened as I painted him. My eyes started burning, my chest constricted, and my breathing grew heavier-it became hard to move my hands and even harder to stop the sobs crawling up the back of my throat, trying to escape.

Slowly, tears gathered in my eyes. My legs started giving out, but I continued. I painted him, laying the details of Jacob Adriano that always remained wide awake in my mind, forever etched there, onto the

canvas.

As I reached his lips, detailing them, my hands trembled even more, reminding me how much I actually wanted them against mine. How badly I wanted to kiss him despite everything he had done, knowingly or unknowingly, to hurt me beyond measure.

"I hate you!" I muttered, the tears blurring my vision as I angrily laid strokes all over the painting, smearing everything with black marks. "I fucking hate you!" I shouted, dropping the palette and throwing the brush against the canvas.

Yet, as I looked at the painting, he looked as ethereal as ever. The image of him, how I saw him tonight under the moonlight-his skin glowing, his frame as tall and broad as ever, his eyes ever so beautiful and captivating, never failing to mesmerize me. Those few scribbles of black didn't make him hideous or lessen how ethereal he looked, how damaging he was to my heart, how dangerous he was to my resolve. If anything, I might have just discovered another form of art-painting heaven and adding scars to it.

Slowly, I dropped to my knees in front of the painting, tears gliding down my cheeks, the first sob slipping past my lips.

likeness. "We were so fucking

canvas off the frame, holding it close to me. "God, I fucking miss you," I whispered, tracing my fingers over his cheek. The half-dried paint covered my fingers. "But I can't risk being broken again," I sobbed, tears falling onto

night, until my eyes finally closed on their own. I lay there, sleeping in my own tears

***

sat across from me, leaning against my bed's headboard. "And you refused to join anyone for

about it now," I sighed, hugging my knees and

spoke up, rifling through my book rack along with Mason.

the audacity to paint that asshole!" Nancy gave me a condescending stare. "Are you even

am not planning to go back to him," I said gently this time.

books, huh? I bet most of them are about heartbreak, rebound, and love renewed," Mason, who was going through my books, popped the question out of the blue. "Are

Good-for-nothing relationship?

This bastard...

How dare he?!

but I refrained. After all, it wasn't like my relationship with Jacob had ended with

mind-blowing, adventurous,

yel.net

we lost. No matter how beautiful

of the

this right now, guys. Please, either shut up or get the fuck out of my room!" I finally snapped, not

have

Nancy tossed another chip into her mouth, the crunchy sound irritating me. I knew she meant to irritate me-they all did. They were trying to get on my nerves to distract me. But little did they know, the only thing

the hell invited

a bubble with his gum as he propped his chin on

This asshole...

you dare bring my

invited us because we

picnic?" I looked at them, flabbergasted. I had been informed of nothing of the sort. "What do

packed meals outdoors at your

to bully me!" I kicked him in the chest, and he fell on his back on the bed, groaning. "You dirty bitch!" he cried out, his

This