Diana’s POV
Eva had changed outfits for the fiftieth time. No exaggeration.
First, it was a navy-blue off-shoulder dress with gold trim that shimmered faintly like moonlight on water. Then a burgundy satin gown that clung like melted wine. After that came a glittery pink number that turned her into a walking disco ball. And now, she was standing frozen in front of the mirror in an emerald-green wrap dress, her brows furrowed, lips pressed together, arms crossed tight across her chest like armor.
I was losing my mind watching her unravel.
A sharp, choking laugh burst from me as I collapsed backward onto her bed, limbs sprawled like a starfish on a tide-washed shore. “Eva, it’s a blind date. He doesn’t even know what you look like. Why do you care so much?”
She didn’t laugh with me. Ins
