“I’ll be home this afternoon, okay?” Shep said to Evie once his bag was loaded and his toast had been consumed. He brushed his hands off on the sides of his jeans. “You can stay here and… I don’t know. Do cool Evie stuff.”
“Cool Evie stuff.” Evie arched a brow. “Got it.”
“So…” Shep smiled. “Bye, Evie.”
“Bye.”
Shep kissed Evie on the cheek, then took a few hurried steps back, exited the kitchen, and left the apartment. Evie held her hand up to her cheek, a dreamy smile on her face. “He’s something, isn’t he?”
“He certainly is.” Harlow clapped her on the back. “Now, what do you feel like starting off with this morning—self-defense training, or schoolwork?”
Evie groaned. “Neither? Besides, I thought you were going to train Shep and me together.”
Harlow shook his head. “You want to jump seven feet in the air from standing, you’re going to need all the extra practice you can get. So, which one is it going to be?”
“Self-defense training first.” Evie craned her head from side to side, then hopped back from the counter and slammed her fist into her palm. “There’s no better way to start each day than with a can of whoop-ass.”
Simon laughed so hard, he choked. If he hadn’t been holding Parker, he likely would have doubled over. The melancholy he’d once associated with these walls—the emptiness, the claustrophobia—was gone. Simon thought he understood why. With Harlow and Evie there, the apartment no longer felt like a trap—it had started to feel like a home.
