My name is Eveline. Eveline Tate.
I am the daughter of Lucas and Rebecca Tate. Yup, THE Lucas and Becca Tate. Don't ask me why, but I grew up knowing that they are someone important. Uncle Mike is still working for dad, as his bodyguard. I used to...
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I smile bitterly. In truth, he is frightened of dad and I can't say I am too comfortable with it. I know my father is a damn tough, stubborn, and possessive man, take your pick. But I don't want my boyfriend or future husband any less than him.
So, I don't insist. I just let Jason be.
Twenty minutes later we are each one in our own class, engaged to meet up at the end for a short late lunch before I rush to the airport.
I have to admit I'm really reluctant to meet uncle Enzo today. The last time we spent time together felt to be the last one, don't ask me why. I was a kid treated like a princess, taught to target nothing less but a prince for myself. And that prince, in my mind, was someone like Enzo.
And now, after so many years, I have no idea why I'm so adamant not to see him even, less to talk about spending time together. Something somehow is pulling me back.
I surely remember him being just as dominant as my dad is, but in a sort of an... elegant manner while my dad has always been the brute in love, as my mom is often describing him.
Back then, when I was a kid, I felt safe around my Enzo, as safe as I was around my dad.
His towering, toned figure seemed enormous to me and every time he would lift me on his shoulders I felt mounted on a cliff from where I could proudly look down at humans.
The chocolate ice cream in the evening was the best, as he would take me downtown to have one, against my mom's protests. She used to say I was being spoiled too much by both my dad and my uncle.
They surely were my partners in crime and I was their little bundle of joy, spoiled like a brat and shrouded in their love like in a fluffy cloud, my fluffy cloud where I was a princess.
"Oh my God, I'm famished," I tell Jason with a sigh, hugging him on the way to the university coffee shop where we usually meet after classes.
"I'll bring you the biggest pizza, baby," he replies and kisses me while Pepa comes along.
"Eve, can I have your car tonight? Mine is dead," she asks as soon as we sit at the table. "I really wished you could come with us tonight, honey," she pouts on the subject again.
What Pepa doesn't know is that lately, I've secretly been trying to find excuses not to go out with them whenever Jason goes.
Don't ask me why, but I feel him overwhelmingly possessive in the past weeks, to the extent of not being able to dance unless I dance with him. Not that I desire for another man to dance with, but even dancing with Pepa is not authorized (mentally rolling my eyes).
"Sure, sugar," I answer, and throw the keys over the table. "I'll take my dad's anyway. It's still in my apartment's parking lot. Just drop me off before I head to the airport," I continue, and each one of us takes the menu to order.
