Eve's POV:
Ashton said he's gonna pick me up for the conference, I asked him what I should wear and he said anything would look great on me.
And I blushed.
And then he said he'd be fine seeing me in nothing but underwear.
And I blushed.
I sit there on my doorstep, in my dark red dress and knee high boots, waiting to be picked up. I'm thankful that nobody's home, but upset that they didn't tell me where they went. Just then, a pair of headlights shine and I cover my eyes with my hands.
"Thanks Marlin! You're a real sweetheart."
It's Britt.
Having yet another man drive her drunk ass home.
"Hey Eve." She slurs as the van drives off.
"Did you just come back from fucking that 20 year old?" She drunkly asks. I frown at her.
"No."
"Well you look guilty." She says, taking the seat next to me on the steps.
"What does that mean?"
"You look like you got laid."
"Britt," I gasp.
"What? I can sense these things, I have a gift."
"Well you're wrong." I lie.
"Am I?" She asks.
And right when I'm about to protest again, I see Ashton's headlights pull up on the street.
"Well I have to go," I tell her. "You have a key?" I ask, she nods and waves her keys around.
"Okay, I'll see you later." I say.
"Bye Evelyn!! I love you!!" She screams, I laugh nervously at drunk Britt and hope she remembers nothing of this night.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Ashton asks stepping out of the car.
"Nothing, can we go now?"
"Of course baby, yea."
***
When we get there I feel my jaw drop, the people are so classy, so famous, the setting is so beautiful, and I can't spot one girl with the same skull ear cuff as me.
I feel uncomfortable.
The room is huge, you could have a wedding in here. There are multiple tables and chairs, plenty of food, and a ton of artwork on the walls. Me and Ashton decide we'll look at the artwork, like most of the guests, and then get some food.
"Ashton!" I hear someone call Ash, I look around and see a tall boy with oddly curled hair and piercing green eyes that you can see from a mile away. He smiles.
His dimples catch my eye. They look just like Ashton's.
"Harry!" Ashton squeezes my hand and lets me go as he greets his friend.
"Hey lad!" The boy Ashton called 'Harry' says. He's british.
Huh,
British, Irish, Australian.
Where have the american men gone?
The two very tall, very attractive, dimple blessed boys have a brief conversation as Ashton's hand doesn't leave mine. I stand awkwardly beside them, their height towering over me.
"Is this Eve?" The boy asks, gesturing to me. Hearing my name causes my head to lift.
"Yes." Ashton smiles proudly. "Eve, this is Harry."
