Me:Wow. So this is how it is now? I slave over your stove and get accused of corruption
Evan:You let her put extra chocolate chips in pancakes the other day, Pen
Warmth curls low in my stomach at the nickname, and my mouth curves immediately.
Me:Yeah well, she’s thriving
Evan:And unionizing
Evan:All going well we’ll be out at 7, should be home on time
Home.
Me:Good. We’re eating soon so she’s not feral by bedtime
Evan:Appreciate it
I turn to place my phone back, but it buzzes again in my hand.
Evan:You good?
The question is simple, but it doesn’t feel casual, and I hesitate for just a breath.
Because yes. Iamgood.
But I’m also highly aware of how thin the line feels right now. Of the lines we’ve already crossed, and how easy it would be for something to tip from contained into complicated.
I don’t want him to blur something and regret it later, and I don’t want to be the woman who makes things messy for him or for Elle. Still, he’s told me he doesn’t blur lines for just anyone, and somehow, I’ve made him bend that rule.
The kiss on the couch happened a couple nights ago now, and we haven’t really touched each other again. Not properly, at least.
We’ve flirted, he’s cupped my face or brushed his hand against mine. There’ve been lingering looks, and his hand on the small of my back. My skin smelled like his cologne after he passed his hoodie to me when I got cold yesterday morning.
But there’s been no time for more. No space or privacy to finish whatever started that night. All it took was a couple of late nights and early starts at the station, and suddenly it’s been days, and we still haven’t spoken properly about it.
Me:Yeah. All good here
Me:Frankie and Remi want to kidnap me at 8pm
There’s a pause, and the typing bubble jumps around on the screen for longer than I think it should when I finally receive his reply.
Evan:That’s great, you should go
My shoulders loosen a fraction. Of course he’d say that. He wants me to have a life here, to feel like I belong. To have fun and friends that aren’t only orbiting his shifts and his daughter.
It shouldn’t mean anything. That is a normal thing to want for someone.
But it does anyway.
Me:I will
Evan:See you soon, Pen
I stare at the screen for a second too long, then lock it and set it face down. The kitchen feels the same as it did five minutes ago, filled with garlic and steam, and now Dr. Dahlia’s voice, drifting in from the living room.
Except underneath it, there’s a new awareness. Of the way I notice him and the way my stomach will dip when he walks back through that door at seven.
Of how reckless and careful I want to be.
