Chapter 7 Flo
Music thuds the floorboards of The Salty Dog—a bar in Missarali that Mae works part-time at and has hired out for the night. It’s not so loud that you can’t hear people talking to you, but it’s at a volume that could possibly cause temporary hearing loss in the morning.
I’m a little self-conscious of how short my dress is.
It’s a costume I found that I’d made years ago for a Halloween party, and I hadn’t realised how my hips and thighs had filled out since then.
But it’s a costume party, and I doubt anyone cares.
I mean, one of Evan’s teammates, Bennett Quinn, is dressed as a giant banana wearing a leopard print bikini, for God’s sake.
“Can I tell you for the tenth time tonight how good you look?” Mae compliments me as she wraps her arms around my neck, swaying to the music in the rustic bar.
The bells around her wrists jangle beside my ear, meant to look like collars since she’s dressed as a dalmatian, and I can’t help but wonder if she and Nathan are going to use them later.
It’s been too long since I’ve been intimate with someone in that way, and I’m jealous.
“Is this your way of telling me you’re leaving Nathan for me?” I wiggle my brows, and after hearing his name, her ex-football player boyfriend shuffles over, releasing a bellowing laugh.
He’s dressed as Mario, with a bright red hat and blue dungarees. Mae was desperate for him to get a Cruella De Vil costume to tie in with hers, but that was an immediate no, so she settled for the Italian plumber.
“Sorry, Flo. This one’s mine.” He lands a kiss on her cheek, and riddled with jealousy, their rescue dog Radish barks beside them, leaping up, desperate to join in with the love.
Even he’s wearing a costume—a Mike Wazowski harness and horns.
Bennett barrels his way over to us, the tip of his banana costume blocking his line of sight slightly, causing him to grunt.
Poppy is hot on his trail, dressed as a strawberry, her red dress bedazzled with stones, meant to imitate the seeds, and a fluffy, green headband pushing her bright, blonde hair back.
“Tired of this thing yet?” Nathan asks his friend, pinching the tip of the banana and moving it out of the way for Bennett, but it just flops back down.
“Yes. Very much so.” He glares down at Poppy. “How come you got the sexy costume and I had to wear this? And why is it wearing a bikini? Bananas don’t wear bikinis. In fact, fruits don’t wear anything. Because they’re fruit.”
The excitable blonde giggles, ignoring Bennett’s rambling. “Oh, so you think I look sexy?”
Bennett stills, eyes flitting over to Nathan, who cocks his head and chuckles.
“You calling my little sister sexy, Quinn?”
He shakes his head frantically. “No… I—she’s—” He pivots back to Poppy.
“Not that you’re ugly, Pops, you’re just—” Pinching his nose, Bennett curses under his breath, but a crooked smile tugs at his lips as he says, “You’re seriously making me go bananas.
This is the last time I ever let you pick me out an outfit. ”
“I thought a fruit salad co-costume was a great idea! It’s not my fault that Mae refused to dress as a giant blueberry. And Evan wouldn’t even entertain the idea of coming as a peach.”
Evan, dressed as a peach—now that is something I’d pay to see.
“Evan wouldn’t entertain the idea of coming, period.”
My blues scan the room. I’m not sure why I’m disappointed that he hasn’t come—the man can’t stand me.
Yet, I think for a moment, I was intrigued to see what he’s like without Leo, what he’s like around his friends.
He always tries to act so put together, like he’s got it all figured out and doesn’t care about the outcome, but I wonder what he has to say when Leo isn’t the topic of conversation, not that I don’t love talking about his son.
Spending time with Leo is my favourite part of the day, but I find that I’m curious to see who Evan West is by himself.
Not just Evan West, the single dad, as everyone else knows him.
Maybe a small part of me also wanted him to see me in this dress. I’m not cocky, but my legs look good, and it’s a shame he’s not here to see them.
I’ll just have to tell him about them later. That’ll gain me an eye roll and glare.
What can I say? I find entertainment in prodding the bear.
“Hey, I’m Sam.”
I look to my left and see a good-looking man with cropped hair grinning at me, the one from the Missarali Storks team barbecue.
His dark brown eyes bore into mine, and his lips tilt in a flirty smirk.
He’s dressed as some kind of macho, weight-lifting man, and his tank top barely covers his defined chest and abs.
He’s cute, but I’m not sure he’s my type. I can already tell he’s eager; desperate men like that just don’t do it for me.
“Flo,” I introduce myself, and Sam’s eyes flit up and down my body. It’s not creepy, but he’s making it very obvious he’s checking me out—his way of letting me know he’s available.
“I’m not feeling too good, Doc. Want to take my temperature?”
“Sure.” I twizzle my index finger, indicating for him to turn around and show me his butt as I pull out my fake thermometer from my dress pocket. “Bend over. Little warning, this might hurt.” My eyes are challenging, and I stand with my hip cocked.
Sam pauses, lips flattening. “On second thought, I actually feel fine. Thanks.”
“If you say so. Just trying to do my job.”
“You’re funny. I like you. Heard you’re Evan’s nanny, so I was wondering if you would consider being a nanny for me?”
“Do you have a kid?”
“No.” Sam wiggles his eyebrows. “But I could use some looking after.”
“Sorry, I don’t nanny man-babies,” I quip back. “Although if you need your diaper changed, I’m sure one of your friends wouldn’t mind lending you a hand.” As I gesture to Bennett and Nathan, they both snicker.
“But—”
“Alright, you’re cut off.” Nathan grips his friend’s shoulder and forces him to turn around, pushing him off in another direction, and as he opens his mouth to say something, his eyes widen, focused on something—or someone—over my shoulder.
“West, you came!” Bennett cheers from beside me, cracking the world’s biggest smile.
“Why the fuck are you dressed as a giant slutty banana, Quinn?”
That humoured voice makes me shudder, and I spin around and lock eyes with a pair of icy grey ones. The air suddenly feels different.
Evan’s addressing Bennett, but he won’t take his eyes off me, allowing them to drop down my body before he flicks them back up, like it’s a reflex he has no control over.
There’s heat behind them, a scorching fire, but it also looks like frustration, a mix that’s making my head spin because damn, does he look good as he checks me out.
His arms are crossed over his chest, giving me a great view of his veiny forearms, and my mind drifts to thoughts of my nails digging into the flesh as I cling to him.
I prefer a more mature man these days, especially when I can see them holding themselves back from eye-fucking me like it’s the last thing they should be doing right now.
I slip into an old dress from years ago, and suddenly I’m acting like I have no self-control.
I really need to get it together because he’s my boss and is looking to replace me as soon as possible.
He’s professional, and I think we’d have to be told a meteor was hurtling towards Earth, and there would be survivors for us both even to consider going there with each other in reality.
I study his costume—or, rather, lack of costume.
He’s dressed in his regular clothing—a pair of dark-wash jeans and a navy shirt rolled up at the sleeves, but he’s wearing a pair of cat ears on his head, and judging by the way they’re squeezing his cranium, they’re a child’s size and definitely Leo’s.
I’m surprised he’s even wearing them, to be honest, but I think it’s his son’s doing.
“Wow, you’ve really outdone yourself,” I say on a laugh.
“Back at you, Florence.” His eyes glint with challenge, and I clamp my molars together and give him my best Oh no, you didn't glare.
Mae stifles her giggle, knowing how much I despise my full name, and quickly changes the subject, asking Evan, “So, Coach Darrell’s taking care of Leo for tonight?”
Evan gives a half-shrug. “He said I needed to get out and socialise, but I think he was just using it as an excuse to spend the evening with Leo. Said he prepped him Mac and Cheese and everything, and as soon as Leo heard that, he was practically begging me to take him. It’s good to leave him with someone I actually fully trust, though. ”
Ouch. Okay, that stung.
Scowling at the grump in front of me, I decide not to question him on what he meant by that. If he was trying to get to me, I don’t want him to think I took it to heart.
He seemed so adamant about not coming to this party yesterday, though, so I wonder what changed his mind so quickly. It’s not like he has to say yes to everything his coach says.
“You could have brought the little squirt,” Nathan chimes in, scratching Radish’s bulbous head as he wags his tail by our feet. “I miss his face.”
“Somehow, I don’t think that would be a good idea.” Evan points to Bennett, who’s now pumping his fist to the music on the dance floor, the tip of the banana bouncing up and down as he dances beside Sam. “That’s going to give me nightmares, let alone my kid.”
I stare down at my diabetes app on my phone, having stepped outside the party for a few moments to cool off.
It’s exhausting, sometimes, and even though some days I’ll forget I have it—regular glucose monitoring and insulin injections have become part of my daily routine—the constant headaches, shakiness and dizziness when I’ve let myself slip remind me that I’m dealing with a very real and possibly life-threatening condition if not monitored correctly.