Evan Dale blinked hard, trying to swallow back nonexistent tears, but his competitive streak suddenly kicked in.
He whipped out his phone, refusing to be outdone, and decided to snap a photo to send to his Darling too.
But as soon as he looked up, he realized—all the food was already gone.
He paused, then grinned, raised his phone, and took a ridiculously handsome selfie to send instead.
[Guess what I had for dinner?]
He barely finished typing the message before a reply popped up.
[You’ve lost your mind.]
[Don’t you dare send me another selfie with that “photography skill.”]
[If you send me another ugly pic like that, don’t bother coming home after work.]
Evan Dale: …
He wasn’t crying.
It was just something in his eye. Maybe some dust. Or an existential crisis.
Unwilling to admit defeat, he zoomed into his own photo a few times, finally deciding—
His Darling obviously had no taste. That selfie was pure handsome.
After firing off a couple of teasing replies, Evan set his phone aside and glanced over at Ethan Carter, who was digging into his burger and fries with a satisfied smile. Evan immediately turned away with a dramatic huff.
Not jealous. Nope. Not even a little.
Women, he thought to himself, only slow down my eating game anyway.
By the time Olivia Bennett finished her meal, Susan was packing up her things to leave.
As soon as Susan was out the door, Helen Adams came bounding over, her big round eyes practically sparkling with curiosity.
Olivia reached out and tapped her lightly on the forehead. “Alright, spit it out. What do you want to ask?”
Helen’s eyes lit up, chin propped on her hands as she grinned. “Okay, but you said it, not me!”


VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: From a Wrong Turn to Mr. Right