3. Playing House
Playing House
Sarah
She kicks the door shut behind her and is immediately greeted by the low thrum of music coming from somewhere down the hall. Classic rock. Of course. The man has a whole playlist dedicated to brooding.
Sarah crouches and scoops her up with a grin. "For a little while. Are you okay with that?"
Piper nods so hard her curls bounce. "Can you make pancakes every day?"
"Deal. But only if you promise to help me decorate your room. I brought fairy lights."
"YES!"
Sarah sets her down and turns, finding Evan leaning against the archway to the kitchen. His eyes flick to her duffel. "You really moved in."
"Thats what we agreed on," she says, brushing past him into the kitchen. "Unless youre getting cold feet, Romeo."
He snorts. "You just dont strike me as the moving-in-with-a-stranger type."
She shrugs. "Youre not a stranger anymore. Youre just an inconvenient coworker with a coffee addiction and commitment issues."
His mouth quirks. "Charming."
They trade barbs easily, like two players in a game neither fully admits theyre enjoying. But the tension simmers below every word, especially as they pass too close in the kitchen, or their fingers brush while unloading groceries.
By mid-afternoon, Sarah had organized Pipers room, unpacked her bag, and tamed the hurricane of plastic dinosaurs in the living room. Piper insists on helping, placing her toys one by one on a shelf while Sarah strings fairy lights around the canopy bed.
"Whats this?" Sarah asks as Piper hands her a crumpled drawing.
"Me and Mommy. Before."
Sarah kneels down, heart twisting as she examines the colorful chaos. Two stick figures holding hands under a rainbow. "This is beautiful, honey. Do you want to put it up on the wall?"
Piper nods, her expression solemn. Sarah gently smooths the paper and tapes it above the nightstand. "Right where it belongs."
Evan appears in the doorway, watching silently. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes linger on the drawing longer than he intends. Then he clears his throat and disappears.
Later, Sarahs just finishing Pipers snack when Evan appears again, shirtless this time, towel around his neck, post-workout glisten on full display.
Sarah almost drops the peanut butter.
"You dont knock before walking into kitchens, do you?" she says, looking away.
He grabs a bottle of water. "Its my kitchen."
"Then someone shouldve warned me about the ego strutting through it."
Theyre halfway into a stare-down when she notices the pile of dirty dishes from yesterday still sitting in the sink.
"You know," she says, tone deceptively sweet, "you could rinse a plate once in a while. It wont make you less famous."
"I didnt realize Id hired a nanny and a drill sergeant."
That does it. Sarah crosses her arms. "Okay, look. Im not here to run your household. But if were playing fake-happy-family for the cameras, maybe dont live like a frat boy."
"You think this place is a mess?"
"No," she says tightly. "I think its a museum with a man-child living in the back room."
"I didnt ask you to move in and rearrange my life."
"You asked me to protect Piper and your reputation. This?" She gestures to the space around them. "Isnt working for either."
His jaw tightens. "You know nothing about what Ive given up for her."
"And you know nothing about what it takes to raise a child who doesnt feel like shes someones burden," Sarah snaps, instantly regretting the sharpness in her voice.
Their voices have risen without them realizing. Piper steps into the doorway, clutching a crayon and blinking at them.
"Are you guys mad?"
Silence crashes down.
Sarah steps back instantly, forcing a breath. "No, sweetie. Just talking a little too loud. Im sorry."
Evan scrubs a hand down his face, guilt flickering across his expression. "Were not mad at each other. Just figuring things out."
Piper walks over and holds up the crayon. "Can we draw now? Together?"
Sarah kneels, heart softening. "Absolutely. Let me wash my hands."
Evan doesnt say anything, but he sits beside them fifteen minutes later with a coloring book of his own, muttering under his breath about how hes being out-drawn by a three-year-old. Sarah catches his eye and smiles. Truce.
For now.
Later that evening, Sarah tucks Piper into bed. The little girl clutches her plush dinosaur tightly.
"Youre not going to leave, right?"
Sarah brushes her hair back from Pipers forehead. "No, sweetheart. Im staying. Youve got me for as long as you need."
Piper nods, satisfied. "Unca Evan snores. You should know."
Sarah grins. "Thanks for the warning."
That night, Sarah tiptoes into the kitchen to grab a drink. The skyline glows through the massive windows, and everything is still. Shes halfway through a sip of chamomile tea when Evan walks in, phone in hand.
He looks at her, then at the screen.
And curses.
"What?" she asks, suddenly alert.
He turns the screen toward her.
A tabloid article blares across the screen, complete with a blurry photo of them from this morning, her duffel slung over her shoulder, his hand at the small of her back.
"Evan Stone Engaged to Mystery Nanny? Rockstars Sudden Domestic Turn Raises Eyebrows"
Her jaw drops. "They think were engaged?"
"Apparently so."
A beat passes. Then Sarah mutters, "So much for ground rules."
Evan looks at her. "Are you still in?"
Sarah swallows. "Yeah. But you owe me a hell of a ring."
Evans phone buzzes again. He reads it, then groans.
"What now?"
He hands her the phone. Its a message from Jonah: This is gold. Trending already. Start planning a photo op. Maybe a charity gala? Or an exclusive interview?
Sarah raises an eyebrow. "Guess were going full rom-com."
"Welcome to the show," Evan mutters.
Just then, her own phone buzzes. Its her best friend, Mags: Girl. ENGAGED??? Call me RIGHT NOW, or I will show up at your fake mansion.
Sarah stares at the screen, then meets Evans eyes. "We mightve just started a fire we cant put out."
Evan shrugs. "Good thing I like the heat."
The next morning, chaos reigns in the penthouse kitchen.
Sarah is halfway through flipping pancakes when she realizes Piper is feeding her dinosaur cereal at the breakfast nook, and most of it is ending up on the floor.
"Princess Crunchbite says pancakes are beneath him," Piper declares solemnly.
"Princess Crunchbite is about to get a stern talking-to about table manners," Sarah replies, trying not to laugh.
Evan walks in, yawning. Black sweatpants. A Henley shirt that should be illegal at this hour.
Sarah nearly drops the spatula. Her brain short-circuits for a second before she recovers, lips twitching into a smirk. He pauses when he sees the mess.
"Is this a food fight or a royal banquet gone wrong?"
Sarah lifts a spatula. "Depends on how fast you help me clean this up."
They work in tandem, awkward but cooperative.
At one point, they reach for the same sponge and their hands brush, both of them freezing for a beat before pretending it didnt happen.
A silent rhythm forms between them, her flipping pancakes, him clearing the counter as if theyve done this a hundred times before.
He wipes up cereal with surprising care, and she quietly appreciates the way his movements have shifted, less rigid, more present.
When Piper skips out to grab her crayons, they both straighten and find themselves alone again.
Evan clears his throat. "So what do we do about the engagement rumors?"
Sarah sighs. "We play along, I guess. Keep it simple. Act like weve known each other longer."
"Then maybe you should tell me a few things about yourself I dont already know."
She raises an eyebrow. "Like what?"
He shrugs. "Whats your worst date story?"
Sarah smirks. "Okay. One time, I went out with a guy who told me I had the aura of a responsible squirrel."
She pauses, lips twitching. "Then he spent forty minutes explaining how mushrooms communicate underground like secret agents."
Evan blinks. "Thats... oddly poetic."
"No, thats red flag central. Your turn."
He grins, but something shifts in his expression. "I once got dumped mid-tour by a backup singer... during a live show. She literally threw her mic at my head and walked offstage in front of twenty thousand people."
Sarah winces. "Ouch. Okay, you win."
Theyre still laughing when Piper returns, dragging her sketchpad. "Draw me and Uncle Evan getting married."
They both freeze.
Sarah stammers. "Uh, honey, thats" She shifts, glancing at Evan, one brow raised in helpless surprise. Her fingers drum nervously against the table, searching for a graceful way out of this minefield.
"Its pretend," Piper says, shrugging. "Like princess stuff."
Evan catches Sarahs eye, and for once, hes the one blushing. He ruffles Pipers curls. "Sure, sweetheart. Lets draw it. But no poofy sleeves, alright?"
Sarah adds quietly, "Definitely no tulle."
They sit at the table, sketching a lopsided wedding cake and a very smiley Piper holding both their hands.
Something about the moment lingers in the air, too sweet, too real.
Sarah shifts, her knee brushing Evans beneath the table.
The hum of the city outside fades, replaced by the quiet rustle of crayons and the warmth of his shoulder close to hers.
And just like that, the lines between pretend and possible start to blur.