My Dad's Bestfriend



Evelyn

"You know, people might get the wrong idea if they see you carrying me like this-we don't have anything going on between us," I finally blurted after two minutes of tense silence. My words tumbled out, driven by a mix of nervous energy and that annoying urge to clarify what basically shouldn't need clarification. It wasn't like two minutes was an eternity, but my restless mind couldn't help filling the quiet.

The beach house came into view, stirring memories of all the good times we'd shared there. This was where I'd fallen for him, where watching him sleep had made me realize I'd never love anyone more.

People fall in love in the most unexpected ways and none knows it better than me.

"Did I say we have anything going on, Evelyn?" he sighed. His tone wasn't teasing, and there was no hint of amusement on his face. Just concern, his eyes repeatedly checking my knee. It wasn't even bleeding much, just a painful scratch, but being in Jacob's arms again... that was a different kind of ache. One that couldn't be explained, only felt.

And somewhere deep inside, I feared I might never get this close to him again.

"No, I'm just saying," I muttered, clearing my throat. My hands itched to tangle in his silky hair, to bury my face in his neck and breathe in his scent, just to feel alive again. "Just because..." Our eyes met, and for a second, I lost my train of thought. The sunlight always did Jacob Adriano justice, highlighting his features so effortlessly that resisting him felt impossible.

I forced myself to speak, battling the swarm of butterflies in my stomach-no, fuck butterflies. "Just because I let you carry me doesn't mean you should get any ideas. Nothing's going to change. Next time, let Cameron handle it."

A small smile curved on his lips. "So, why didn't you let your boy-toy handle it this time? You didn't say a word when I picked you up, Evie. Which means you wanted it." He turned his gaze back to the path, as if he already knew I wouldn't have a comeback.

And damn it, he was right. I had nothing. Normally, I thrived on pointless arguments, anything to keep from slipping back into Jacob's orbit.

So I opened my mouth, grasping at straws. "It happened too fast. I didn't know how to react."

"Oh really?" He chuckled softly. "Evelyn Fernandez, didn't know how to react? The same woman who, no matter the time, place, or situation, always has something to say to shut me up? Come on, give me one reason to believe that."

God, he was embarrassing me.

"It's up to you whether you believe it or not," I replied, my voice louder than intended as I stared determinedly at the path ahead. His gaze burned into my skin, setting fires I hated to admit I enjoyed. When would I stop feeling anything for this man? Probably never.

"I don't know how long you're going to keep running from the truth," he said, his voice suddenly so soft it could melt my heart in seconds. My eyes snapped to his, my pulse quickening. "But I'm not giving up on you. You can push me away all you want, Evelyn, but I'm not giving up. I'll keep following you until you're tired-tired of running, tired of hiding-and then I'll bring you home. I'll bring my home back to me."

God...

His words stole my breath, leaving me speechless. My mind went blank, surrendering to my pounding, restless heart. The urge to pull him in and kiss him was nearly overwhelming.

Get a grip, Evelyn.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Why wouldn't my heart stop racing?

My throat went dry, my breathing quickened, and I found it impossible to tear my eyes away from him. His gaze was filled with so many emotions, each one harder to ignore than the last. Keeping my own feelings in check became an impossible task.

Desperate for relief, I forced myself to look away, though my heart still beat like a drum, and every breath was a struggle. His intoxicating cologne enveloped me, pushing me to the brink.

Jacob, sensing my turmoil, didn't make it harder. He carried me into the beach house, kicked the door open, and gently set me on the couch.

"I'll be right back," he said,

disappearing into another room.

When he returned with a first aid kit, he knelt in front of me, lifting my dress just enough to expose my injured knee. As his warm fingers brushed against my cold skin heat surged through me, spreading like wildfire through my veins. I flattened my hands on the sofa, clinging to my composure.

But my eyes had a mind of their own, tracing over him as if I wanted to memorize every detail, as if I wanted to watch him until the end of this fucking world.

"It might burn a little," he murmured,

his voice soft, matching the gentleness of his touch. He pressed a cotton swab soaked in disinfectant against my injury, lifting my leg to rest on his

on his knee. A soft hiss escaped my lips, but then he leaned in and began to blow softly on the area, Soothing the sting and sending shivers down my spine. Goosebumps erupted all over my skin.

Fuck. This wasn't supposed to feel like this...

What the hell was wrong with me? I thought I'd purged him from my mind for good.

"You should've been more careful, Evelyn," he said quietly, dabbing the cut before applying ointment. His rough, calloused fingers felt like the softest thing on earth against my skin. So gentle. So good.

"You're not my dad."

"But I care about you," he whispered, his focus on the bandage he was securing over the cut. "And when you get hurt, it fucking hurts me. Maybe it's hard for you to believe that now, but it does. After everything we had, we can't just stop caring for each other, can we?"

"I... I don't care about you," I said, my voice faltering. He didn't look up, just smiled faintly as his thumb brushed over the bandage.

Then he did something completely unexpected-he leaned down and pressed the softest kiss to my injured knee. His hand gently cradled my leg before he set it down, and as his lips left my skin, I was struck by an immediate, stinging absence of warmth. I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure, but then our eyes met.

"You've always been a bad liar," he said, smiling gently, almost melancholic. "But your eyes-they don't lie. Maybe with a little practice, you'll start to learn how." He leaned closer, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear, and I shivered under his touch, little electric shocks dancing up and down my body as his breath ghosted over my face.

I couldn't look away from him.

"I know what I've done wrong, Evelyn. I won't force you to forgive me," he whispered, his thumb gently caressing my cheek. "But I won't stop trying until the day you find itan your heart to forgive me. I can't live without you. And until the day know for sure that there's no hope ¶left, I'm not giving up. If the day comes when my heart finally accepts that I've lost you, I'll stop. I won't bother you, I won't trail you, I won't try to convince you-I'll stop. But for now, I haven't lost you."

That itch...noveldrama

The itch to reach out and touch him grew stronger and stronger the longer his face lingered close to mine.

"I'm sorry if I'm being too much of a trouble for you, but I can't just give up on you," he said, his voice earnest. "You are my home, Evelyn. You're everything to me, and I'm going to fight with everything I have to win you back. You taught me how to fight."

Suddenly, for some godforsaken stupid reason my hand moved almost on its own, resting against his cheek, fingers brushing the roughness of his

stubble.

Don't do it, Evelyn...

Don't.

But before I could stop myself, I leaned in and pressed my lips against his.