“Oh, ignore him. It’s nice to meet you, too!” She sticks her hand in the air and lifts it up and down as if shaking hands with a ghost.
I laugh and copy the action, fighting my embarrassment as I do. It’s hard to say if her being silly makes the flopping in my stomach better, but—no, it’s worse. Definitely worse. It’sendearing.
Everett makes a sound between a laugh and a scoff. “I should have known you two were going to be fucking weird together.”
“Be nice!” Evie’s expression changes. She glares at her brother, as if her sweet smile never existed.
I don’t have siblings, but I imagine they have a typical sibling relationship. They must be close if she’s staying in his home. It’s a lovely house, but much smaller than mine—cozy, even. You don’t live in a place this small with someone you hate.
The kitchen looks a little brighter today—or maybe it’s her presence.
My attention falls to the cake she’s working on. It’s heart-shaped, pink and white, with little edible pearls scattered around it.
“Did you make that?” I ask.
“Evie’s a professional baker,” Everett answers for her. “She could make much better than this, but I didn’t have much to work with.”
“I’ll do better next time!” Her cheeks flush pink, and she shifts her stance, her fingers weaving together in front of her. “It should taste good, which is the most important part. I always prioritize taste over appearance. This one has buttercream frosting and raspberry filling.”
“Sounds delicious,” I say.
Everett turns his back on us, trailing through the house. “C’mon. You can help me get the grill started.”
Just like I do every other weekend, I pick up the plate of meat and follow him outside.
“She is not what I expected,” I mutter. “Is she…?”
“Young enough to be my daughter?” Everett smiles wryly. “Not quite. She’s twenty-eight.”
“Ah…”
A decade younger than me. Still too young for me. Neither of us says it aloud, and we don’t have to. Everett knows I can’t date, and I know he would kill me if I tried to look at any of his siblings like that—especially after ruining the last date he set me up on.
If he realizes how I’m looking at her, he’ll kill me, and I can’t say he’ll be in the wrong.
I set down the plate, and he adds the slabs of meat to the grill.
“This is making me realize I don’t know enough about your family,” I say.
“You never asked about them, but I wasn’t trying to keep them a secret. You know me. I’m an open book.”
“Your other siblings. Are they as young as Evie?”
“Nope. I have three brothers who’re all closer to my age.” He shakes his head. “She was a late surprise for my parents.”
“I see.”
No matter how curious I am, I shouldn’t keep asking about Evie. I’m here to see Everett—here for myfriend. That doesn’t stop my thoughts from wandering.
How long will she stay here? What brings her to San Diego? I shake the thoughts off and continue my duties as a best friend, which donotinclude asking about his much younger sister.
I avoidmy curiosities for most of the party. It’s easy to keep busy. Everett’s usual friends come filing in, and I bounce around like I do every time—holding a beer and wearing a friendly smile. His events are the only ones I come to that aren’t for business. Catching up with everyone is always fun. Whether it’s someone gossiping about work drama or boasting about their success, it’s got to be better than thinking about the work waiting for me at my office.
I can’t avoid her forever. Evie sticks to her brother’s side for a while, but eventually, she’s alone in a corner.Shit. She may be busy on her phone, but now and then, she looks up, her baby blue eyes shifting around.
She bites her lower lip, and I think I make out the softest sigh or exhale. She’s alone. I know what it’s like to be alone.
I look at the piece of vanilla cake on my plate, the cakeshemade, and my guilt gets the best of me. That’s what draws me closer to her. It’s not my curiosity, not the attraction I’m pushing down. She went through the trouble of baking for everyone, and I need to thank her. That’s all.
