Page 75

Neither did Evie.

Mouth open and brows raised, she gawked at his chest and six-pack in training, then her eyes dipped below his belly button, following the wispy trail of dark hair until it disappeared beneath the elastic band of his boxers. A sly smile bloomed.

She likes! Nick folded the shirt into a bundle, keeping the stain visible on top. “Let’s get this party started!” He glanced over again, but Evie was preoccupied, lost somewhere between the waistband and crotch of his jeans. “Evie?”

Jolting, she looked up. “Ohh. Yep! Yes!” She waved the crumpled paper towel. “I was just—you—” Shaking her head, she clamped her eyes shut. “Never mind.”

Stifling a laugh, Nick handed over his shirt.

After several minutes, Evie held up her work in progress. The beer stain had morphed into a large, apple-scented wet patch. Only time would tell if her attempted rescue was a success.

Threading his arms through the sleeves, Nick erupted into a grateful grin. “Cheers, Evie. I’d still be faffing about if it weren’t for you.” His fingers flew down the placket, fastening one button after another.

“All in a day’s work for laundromat lass.” Evie disposed of the paper towels in the bin and squirted a blob of soap into her palm.

“I thought you worked in your mum’s shop?”

A blur of green hair and dungarees barged around the kitchen doorjamb, a crowded tray of colorful cupcakes in her grasp. Discovering Nick, the teen did a double take as she passed.

Evie smiled at the girl. “Depends on the day.” She washed her hands, the bubbles dripping onto the lopsided pyramid of dirty dishes. “In summer, I’m at Marwick’s all day Monday through Wednesday, then again on Saturday. Thursdays I’m in the laundromat, and on Fridays I answer phones at my dad’s dental practice. In between, I do genealogy for tourists at the library.”

“You have four part-time summer jobs?” A growl escaped from Nick’s belly. He eyed the girl, dithering over where to park her cupcakes. “When do you have fun?”

“I suppose in between all of that…” With a smirk, Evie shut off the taps and ripped a piece of paper towel from the roll. “I’m saving for uni.” She dried her hands. “My parents will pay half, but there’s still a large amount I’ll need to cover. Every penny counts.”

Evie’s working her cute butt off 24/7 while I travel, shop, and attend uni—all on my bloated actor’s salary and family’s dime. Nick swallowed thickly, the shame of privilege creeping in.

The teen baker abandoned her tray on the stove. “Help yourself, ’kay?”

“Thanks, Becca.” Evie tossed the used paper towel in the trash as the girl careened around the doorjamb and rejoined the rowdy celebrations.

Nick’s gaze darted. Half the cupcake creations boasted blue frosting and multi-colored sprinkles, while their neighbors were crowned with sticky chocolate ganache and thick ribbons of golden caramel. Immaculate in execution, the fairy cakes (along with his rumbling stomach) begged his taste buds for a closer inspection. He motioned to Evie, who was removing a bottle of apple juice from her bag. “Want one? You’ve earned it.”

She unscrewed the cap. “No thanks, but you go for it.”

“I will! I’m so flippin’ hungry even those gross pizzas are starting to look appealing.” Liberating a sprinkle bomb from the platter, he tore the bottom off the cake and pressed it on top, squishing the generous swirl of blue frosting.

Evie’s brows met quizzically as Nick took a substantial bite of his improvised cupcake sandwich, the sugary sweetness a welcome hit of happiness on his tongue.

“You just—that’s new,” she exclaimed.

Covering his closed lips with his hand, Nick chewed for a moment until his mouthful was manageable, then answered. “It’s the best way to eat it. I get icing with every bite and avoid a blue moustache. It’s win-win.” Taking a smaller second bite, he closed his eyes and chewed quickly.

“Good?” She sipped her juice.

“Mmhmm.” He nodded into a swallow and blissfully blinked, finding Evie studying him, her expression unreadable. “I never turn down a cupcake.”

“So some things they write about you are true, then…like that bit about you hating to forget birthdays.” She lowered her bottle and exhaled heavily. “Nick, I’m so sorry.”

She’s sorry? Small talk had officially ended. He looked at the last chunk of cupcake, ready to grovel if need be. “Evie—”

“No, hear me out.” She swept her bangs away from her eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t ring you after the bonfire.” Her index finger stroked uneasily, back and forth, across the juice’s label. “I should’ve, but I was so upset with Sunita and Sam, and my breakup. It was a lot to process all at once. I needed time. I could barely speak to Fi about it, let alone you.”

Nick ditched the last of his cupcake on the messy counter.

“Fi came round the next morning, sat with me while I bawled my eyes out. She told me to text you, but I was embarrassed. I wasn’t ready. But weeks later when I was, it felt like I’d left it too late.” Evie gazed down at her drink. “You were off at uni, meeting exciting people, learning amazing things. You’d moved on. You didn’t need Sam’s little sister bothering you from the middle of nowhere.” Screwing the cap on her juice, she tentatively looked up. “Then April 29th arrived and there was an e-card in my inbox from SaxyBoy. I couldn’t believe it! You remembered! And I loved the roller-skating rabbit. Thank you.”

So she DID open it. Nick muted a smile. He had texted Fiona asking how Evie was doing several times, but Rupert’s girlfriend was also Evie’s best friend and, loyal to a fault, didn’t divulge much. “Was it a happy seventeenth?”