Electric Touch | Jude Bellingham

Chapter 8

Evelyn

"I don't like the way he looks at you," John said in a hushed voice once Jude had moved to the other side of the room.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "John, please, I don't have time for your insecurities."

"I'm not insecure, I'm just not blind," he said. "Or stupid."

"I know, there's nothing for you to worry about," I smiled, looking back over at the brothers who were engaged in conversation. "Jude's just like that."

"I don't care Evelyn," John stared into my eyes, they were icy and cold.

"Listen to me," I smiled my sweetest smile and fluttered my eyelids just the right amount for his shoulders to relax. "You need to focus on that presentation tomorrow, not Jude."

"Yeah I know," he sighed and checked his watch. "Speaking of which, the plane leaves in half an hour. Are you sure you'll be alright in that hotel by yourself?"

"I'm fine John, you should go," I ignored the patronising tone in his voice.

"I'll see you next week," he kissed me on the cheek and turned to leave.

Without realising, I sighed with relief. Immediately, guilt washed over me. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before spinning back to Jobe and Jude. They were talking quietly, but somehow it relaxed me.

"Lynnie," Jude smiled at me. "Where did Boyfriend go?"

I rolled my eyes as he grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "John," I said, "left to catch a plane."

"So he's gone?"

"Don't sound too excited," I walked past him and placed myself next to Jobe who had his injured leg propped up in front of him.

"So what are you doing for the rest of the day?" Jobe asked.

"Nothing, I was going to go back to the hotel and watch Mean Girls, then Clueless then 10 Things I Hate About You."

Jobe looked at Jude and vice versa. Jobe shook his head but Jude smiled. "Why don't you come back to my apartment and we can order something?"

"Jude," I replied hesitantly.

"No, it's fine," he looked extremely excited by this idea. "Jobe will be there, there's no point you being alone all night."

I looked at Jobe, the more sensible of the two, and he shrugged. "Ok, fine, just for a little while."

"Perfect."

"Don't you have a fancy car to pick you up or something?" Jobe complained as we waited just inside the stadium, staring out on the road.

"He'll be here."

"We'be been stood here for 30 minutes," my feet were beginning to hurt.

"Yeah, and I'm on crutches," Jobe added.

Jude paused for a minute, reading something off his phone. "Ok, yeah, he's not coming."

I sighed, I looked out onto the street. "We'll get a taxi."

"I don't speak Spanish," Jude replied

"Just find a taxi."

A few minutes later, a car pulled up outside the doors. We climbed into the back, all squished together, one Jobe's crutches sticking into the back of my right leg.

"¿A dónde voy?" The taxi driver asked, not bothering to turn round to look at us.

Both brothers looked at me, eyes wide and panicked. "Chamartín, por favor, señor."

"Eso está al otro lado de la ciudad, tardará un rato," the driver replied, pulling away from the stadium.

"Está bien, gracias," I sat back in the middle smiling to myself as they bore holes into the sides of my head. "Are you forgetting that my mother is Argentinian?"

"No," Jude stuttered, "it's just we've not heard you speak Spanish before."

"There's not really much opportunity in Birmingham."

"I didn't know you could like speak it, speak it," Jobe was still staring at me like I had a shark's head.

"What did you think I was going all those summers in Buenos Aries?"

"Yeah, well, still," Jude said.

I looked up at him, his head angled perfectly so I could admire his jawline. I felt myself doing it, I felt the guilt but ignored it. Jobe's arm jabbed into my shoulder. I turned to look at his narrowed eyes and shaking head. I rolled my eyes again and mouthed, "I wasn't doing anything," before being met with a sarcastic "sure."