Chapter 3

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"Mum," I whined dragging the tablecloth from above the cupboards, trying not to fall off the counter. "You could've told me, like, one little message would've been enough."

"Evelyn, deja de quejarte," she dismissed me in Spanish, I had heard that phrase way too many times before.

"I'm not complaining, I'm just saying, a little heads up would be nice," I followed her through the hallway and into the dining room. "He pounced on me, in London, in the rain."

"Baby, Jude is coming, that's the end of that. You don't have to speak to him, you don't even have to look at him," she continued to move round the room, setting the table and trying to shake me off. "Isn't John coming?"

"Yes, exactly my point."

"Evelyn Lewis, if you don't get out of my hair in the next second," Mum put her hands in the table and I knew I needed to spin on my heels faster than the speed of light.

2 hours later

"Evelyn," my mum called from the other side of the room, now full with happy, smiling people, congratulating my parents on their 25 years of marriage. "John's here."

I turned to the door. My boyfriend stood there, blonde hair perfectly styled, not a single strand out of place. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the top, he smiled when he saw me. I smiled back. He walked towards me, dodging through the people.

"Hey," I greeted him, he kissed me on the cheek like a perfect gentleman. "You look good."

"You look beautiful," John replied. "How was your week?"

"Good, rained a lot, but my lectures seem to be going well," I nodded. "How was Lisbon?"

"I went to a record number of meetings and learnt that Portuguese bankers never sleep," he chuckled, a deep, warm laugh.

"That's the thing about working in finance," I smiled and looked around again.

My dad was laughing loudly in the corner with his closest friends, about anecdotes from the last 25 years. My mother was in the other corner, sitting gossiping. Her best friend had flown all the way from Argentina and surprised her. She had only just stopped crying.

"John, it's so nice to see you again," my sister appeared behind me, and shook my boyfriends hand.

"Lexi? Where the hell have you been I've been trying to call you all week," I spun around and shot daggers into her perfect green eyes.

"I have a life you know Evelyn," she smiled at me. "A job, a husband, a child."

"So?"

"How was Portugal John?" Lexi ignored me.

"Great," he laughed.

I groaned and walked away from them and got myself a drink from the makeshift bar. I leant against it and watched the door. I was waiting for him to show up, I didn't know why. It was because I didn't want him to sneak up on me again, that had to be the reason. The only reason.

Just as that thought floated out of my brain and into the atmosphere, the door opened and there he was. He walked in and it's like time stopped. The black shirt Jude was wearing had  tiny flowers stitched onto it and it was 90% unbuttoned.

"Lexi, Evelyn, get here now," Denise practically screamed across the room.

I smiled and hurried over to Jude's mum. "It's been so long, Denise."

"I know, what were you thinking moving to London?" She wrapped her arms around both of us. "And you," she let go and pointed to Lexi. "Moving to Ireland?"

"I'm sorry," my sister laughed. "Alex grew up there, plus I wanted Elena to have an Irish accent."

Denise laughed and I realised both Jobe and Jude were still stood there. "Jobe, since when we're you 11ft tall."

He smiled and hugged me. "I seriously think you've just shrunk."

"Jude, how's Madrid," Lexi said politely.

"Brilliant, thanks for asking," he glanced at me.

An awkward silence fell on us.

"So," Denise said, "Jobe, Lexi let's go and find some people to talk to."

She herded them away leaving me and Jude alone. He smiled at me, enough to make a girl melt into a puddle. However, I was used to his charms and they were completely ineffective. Completely ineffective.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. "John, nice to meet you."

He extended his arm towards Jude. He smirked, looked at John's hand then back to me. I folded my arms and raised me eyebrows. He sighed and took John's hand.

"Ah yes," Jude said, "Lynnie's boyfriend."

"Jude," I warned him.

"Lynnie?" John looked at me confused.

"Jude's nickname for me," I shook my head. "From when we were little."

I could feel the tension like fog on a cold day. I could see them eyeing each other up. John's icy eyes glared into Jude's coffee coloured ones. There was a certain smugness about him that infuriated me.

"This weather is horrible," John spoke up, looking back down at me.

"It is," Jude nodded. "It's nice to see you not completely soaking wet."

I felt my face burn. John looked between us both, confused look in his face. "Jude ran into me in London the other day, it was raining, that's all," I reassured him, glaring at Jude who was standing, smiling by the door.

"Right, ok," John replied. "I'm just going to talk to talk to my mates, I'll catch up with up with you later."

He kissed me on the cheek and vanished into the crowd. I turned to walk away from Jude but he followed me to the bar. "So that's John."

"That's John."

"He seems nice," Jude said as if it physically pained him.

"He is nice," I nodded, trying to lose him as I grabbed my drink and weaved back through the crowd and towards the staircase.

"He looks like Prince Eric with that shirt," he smiled to himself as I found myself alone, at the bottom of the stairs, with Jude Bellingham.

"At least he puts thought into his outfit," I remarked, circling Jude's outfit with my finger. "Who wears black to an anniversary?"

He shrugged, unbothered by my comment. "Black looks good on me."

I rolled my eyes. "What are you doing here Jude?"

"Here, as in the party?" He asked. "Or here with you right now?" He said quietly and leant against the bannister, closing the gap between us. "Don't fight it Lynnie."

My eyelids fluttered as I looked up into his. I could feel myself slowly melting into him, everything about him was so familiar, so warm, but there was something magnetic pulling me closer and closer, until I could feel his breath on my cheeks.

"My name is Evelyn," I said, quickly wrenching myself from this pull before it was too late. Before I'd do something I'd regret.

Electric Touch | Jude Bellingham Onde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora