“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 allprotective 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.”
