Chapter 18 Flo #2
When we reach the house, Evan carries Leo inside and takes him up to bed. I stand by the window, peering out at my cabin. Nobody has touched it since the storm—after Evan and I collected my things— and I expect the whole thing to be flooded since the tape on the roof did not hold up.
After Evan fixes himself what I assume is a coffee, he exits the kitchen with a mug for me in his other hand. “A green tea is close enough to a matcha latte without the caffeine, right?”
“Thanks.” I cock my head at the liquid in his own mug—green and watery like mine, instead of dark. “No coffee?”
“You keep telling me I need to cut down, and I don’t want to face your wrath tonight.”
My fingers curl around the steaming mug as I chuckle, the burning sensation distracting from how good Evan looks in his red backwards cap, white T-shirt, flannel, and jeans.
“You gonna tell me why you freaked out?”
“You gonna tell me why you’ve been living in weenie-land for the past few days?”
A scoff. “Weenie-land?”
“Yeah.” I set down my mug. “We kiss, and then you completely ignore me. You went from hating me to liking me, and then back to hating me again. Then you buy my niece an expensive dollhouse and don’t even say a word about it, and now you’re acting all protective knight in shining armour. You suck.”
Admittedly, yes, I called him, but let a woman have her moment.
“I don’t hate you, Flo.” Evan swallows, eyebrows collapsing in on one another.
“But I agree, I suck. I thought that if I tried not to pay attention to you, then I wouldn’t be tempted to kiss you again, but if anything, it’s actually made it worse, because I can’t stop thinking about it.
And I’m protective, yes. Hearing how scared you sounded on the phone… I didn’t like it. At all.”
My gut reaction is to hit him with, “I wasn’t scared,” but I can’t pull the wool over Evan’s eyes when it comes to this, so I just have to admit that yes, sometimes, Flo McKenna is scared.
“And as for the doll’s house, you were panicking about not being able to get your niece a gift, so I sorted it for you.”
“How did you even find out where my sister lives?”
“I have my ways.”
“Mae?”
Evan confirms it, lips settling into a flat line and muttering, “Mae.”
I huff and pull out some cash from my bra, realising I’m giving him a bit of a show since I’m wearing my fancy lace one today. Evan doesn’t fail to notice, his eyes darkening. “Well, I’m not letting you pay for it.”
“Do all women keep money in their bras?” He’s still looking.
“Beats me.” I thrust the money in his direction, but he makes no move to take it. “Either take this, or deduct it from my pay.”
“I’ll deduct it from your pay,” Evan says, but the glint in his eye tells me he’s lying, and I huff, slipping the wad of cash back in my bra.
“You’re giving me whiplash, Evan West.”
“I know. You’re the first woman I’ve looked at in this way in a very fucking long time, Flo, and it’s not something I’m used to feeling, but you’re leaving soon.
Plus, you’re my son’s nanny, and if that were to get out to the press, I’d be ripped apart for my lack of professionalism.
I pride myself on being professional, and what I did was far from it. ”
“Who says I want professional?”
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, trouble.”
“And who says I can’t finish?” I’m fully aware of the innuendo I’ve just used, and judging by how Evan’s fingers flex around his mug and his Adam’s apple bobs, so is he. He narrows his eyes, pinching the space between his eyebrows.
I want to kid around, to use humour to cover up my issues, but something in me is telling me to do it differently this time.
I want Evan to know that whatever has happened between us, the press will never hear about it from me.
I know he wasn’t implying that I would tell them personally; he just doesn’t want another reason for his image to be shat on.
“My sister had a car crash. She was driving too fast, and the conditions weren’t great.
The doctors said they were surprised she survived, and it’s always stuck with me.
It’s like, I started worrying that I would freak out over it, so now I do, and I can’t get rid of it.
I’ve tried facing it a few times, but each time, I freak out and have to pull over, so I’ve kind of just given up.
I know it’s silly, and it’s all in my head, but it doesn't matter. The thought of it still makes me want to puke.”
“Sounds like you’re trying to protect yourself from something that might not even happen.”
I smile. “Alright, wise old man.”
Evan squints. “I’m not old.”
A cackle bursts from my throat.
“I like it when you laugh.”
“What?”
“Your laugh. I like it.”
I shoot him a look. “I sounded like a dying pig.”
“Well, I’ve never found a dying pig attractive before, but there’s a first time for everything, I suppose.
” He looks at me seriously now. “But if you ever want to try again, Flo, I’d be more than happy to sit in the passenger seat while you drive, and if you do freak out, I’ll be in the car with you.
I helped teach Gracie to drive, and God, she was awful. ”
A chuckle pours from my throat. “I’ll make sure to tell Gracie that next time I see her.”
Evan scratches the back of his head, eyes softening.
“Well, thank you for coming to get me.” I’ve already finished my green tea, the burning liquid sitting heavy in my stomach, and once I see Evan hasn’t even touched his—he hates it—I take his from his hand and sip at it, keeping eye contact.
“I’m going to need you to stop looking at me like that, Flo.”
“Why? What are you going to do about it if I don’t stop?”
His eyes drop to my lips, and my core aches.
“Take a very cold shower before I go and get your car.”
“Leave the car for the evening, Evan. It’ll be fine. I’ll head down to get it tomorrow. I’d feel better if you weren’t out in the dark.”
“Worried about me?”
“Always,” I answer honestly. “And I’ll take you up on that driving thing. If I start freaking out, you can just distract me with those big thighs of yours.”
Evan gives an exaggerated eye-roll, a low laugh rumbling his chest. “If that’s what it takes.” Then the amusement drains from his face. “Proud of you, trouble.”
“Thank you, Evan.” My heart skips a beat.
God, is this man trying to kill me?
“This is weird, right?” Cam asks from his seat at the fancy restaurant table, loosening his tie, and beside him, Poppy and Bennett nod. Everyone at the table appears confused, and I shrug along with them.
But I know what this is about.
Mae had told me she was expecting Nathan to propose soon, but now she's suddenly calling us up to organise a fancy dinner just to catch up? Sounds romantically fishy to me, but I’m not going to say anything. It’s Mae’s surprise to share.
Evan sits beside me. Coach Darrell and Hazel are looking after Leo for the evening, as Evan had looked at the menu and realised they had absolutely nothing the kid would like.
Would it kill a gourmet restaurant to stock chicken fingers?
This entire place gleams. Polished marble floors reflect the soft glow emitted from the sparkling chandeliers above, dimmed just enough to add a romantic aura in the air.
Vibrant white tablecloths are stretched over each table, causing the shining cutlery to twinkle as it lies against them, with too many different-sized knives, forks, and spoons to count.
There’s not a speck of dirt inside this restaurant, and the soft sound of live jazz music hums through the air. My fingers toy with the thick, embroidered napkin resting over my knee, placed there by the attentive waiter, and suddenly, I’m hyper-aware of my posture.
I’ve ordered a glass of wine—the name I couldn’t pronounce—and I sip on it tentatively, just as a tall, suited man walks up to the table, and everyone but Poppy looks up at him in confusion. “Am I late?”
“Mason!” she squeals, engulfing him in a hug, and I don’t fail to notice the way Bennett shifts in his seat uncomfortably, tension pulsing along his jaw.
A waiter immediately pulls up a seat for ‘Mason’ and, without thanking him, he sits down, one hand glued to Poppy’s thigh.
“Guys, this is Mason,” the excitable blonde says, and we all wave, besides Bennett, who dips his head in stiff acknowledgement, but can’t seem to tear his gaze away from how Mason’s hand swarms Poppy’s upper leg. “We met online.”
“Poppy, I didn’t know you were dating anyone.” Cam blinks, but leans over the table and holds his hand out to shake Mason’s. Evan does the same, and then Bennett, whose eyes slim when Mason squeezes his hand a little too hard.
“We’ve been together a month now,” Mason says as Poppy begins to talk, and he grabs the waiter's attention to order a bourbon. Rudely, might I add, and when the waiter returns with the drink, Mason plucks it from him without even a glance.
My mouth opens to ask him if he was born with a condition that causes him to break out in a rash if he uses manners, but after feeling a hand land on my thigh, I stop myself.
Evan isn’t looking at me, and he remains completely casual, but I know he can tell I’m close to calling this guy out for his behaviour, and I guess he’s trying to distract me with his large, manly hands.
I guess it’s working.
“Okay, big guy, I get the message. I’ll be nice,” I murmur to him lowly so that no one can hear.
Doesn’t mean I can’t stare daggers at this guy as he talks over Poppy once again, but she doesn’t do anything other than smile and nod her head, which causes Bennett to have downed his entire drink in just three minutes.
It’s when Mason scowls at the large glass of wine Poppy has in front of her and moves it away, saying, “You probably shouldn’t drink this much, hun; you get too giddy when you’re wine drunk,” that causes me to choke on my own wine and Evan’s hand to tighten around my thigh.
Poppy’s perfectly fine when she’s wine drunk. And what’s wrong with being giddy anyway? That’s Poppy’s whole schtick.
“I’m headed to the fuckin’ bar.” Bennett’s chair makes a loud screeching noise as he stands, causing a few heads to turn his way, but he quickly apologises to them and quietly slips away.
“So, Mason, what do you do for work?” Evan asks, eyes slightly slimmed, trying to sus the guy out.
Mason begins to respond, but I don’t want to listen to this bonehead yap on about himself, so when I spot Mae and Nathan climb out of a cab through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I point and exclaim, “Stop talking, it’s Nathan and Mae! ”
That shuts the guy right up, and Evan gives my thigh a little squeeze, chuckles, and pulls it away.
We all greet Nathan and Mae as they make their way to the table, and when she flashes the small, delicate diamond on her finger, everyone stands, faces a mixture of shock and delight.
Tears immediately spring to my eyes. My best friend is engaged. She really is glowing. Her eyes twinkle. She stands taller. Even her teeth are whiter. She deserves this. Mae’s been through a lot with her parents, and seeing her happy warms me from the inside out.
“Where’s Bennett?” Mae asks, hugging us all.
“I’ll go and find him,” Poppy replies, but Mason chuckles, immediately pulling her chair back out for her.
“If the boy needs a minute, he needs a minute,” he says, emphasising the word “boy,” and everybody blinks, causing Poppy to flash a glance at Mae.
“This is Mason. I really appreciate you letting him come and be part of this.” She looks unsure of the words she’s saying as Mason flashes the couple a confident grin. “So, when and where did it happen? We want to hear everything.”
Mae and Nathan both shake hands with Mason, but he doesn’t stand to greet them, clicking his fingers at a nearby waiter for another drink.
“Four days ago. We were out walking Radish, and Nathan proposed looking out onto the field that Radish dug up before we adopted him.”
“Well, isn’t that romantic? Let’s toast to that, because as your brother, I still can’t believe you guys were getting together right under my nose.” Cam holds up his glass of white wine, grinning. “To my little sister, and Nathan, who I still promise to beat up if he hurts her.”
“And because it would be rude not to, cheers to the guys travelling to New York tomorrow for their first preseason game. Good luck!” Mae adds.
Everyone chuckles, holds up their drinks and sips them right as Bennett appears with a full glass of bourbon, the collar of his shirt a little loose, his tie stuffed into his pocket. His chocolate brown eyes bleed confusion. “What did I miss?”
Mason spares Bennett a frosty look. “Nothing you needed to be a part of, buddy.”
“I think ‘Champ’ is better suited, don’t you think?”
Mason’s shoulders shake with laughter at Bennett, and he holds his glass up to clink Bennett’s. “I wouldn’t be so sure. New year. New Super Bowl winner.” His gaze is intense. “May the best man… oh sorry, I mean, team, win.”