She looked tired and frail, and I felt bad that Ev was distracted with teaching Jonas instead of focusing on her. I said as much when he came up for more hot chocolate for Jonas.
“He is the best medicine for her. Not much I can do anymore.” Ev shrugged helplessly. It was the most he’d admitted about her condition, and my teeth clenched hard around expressions of pity he neither needed nor wanted.
He turned back toward the table, and we both watched as Mira praised Jonas’s efforts, straightening his grip with her own trembling hands. Ev’s eyes flickered with heavy shadows, and I longed to rub his shoulders, get some of the tension out, maybe gift him with a nap to relieve some of the circles under his gorgeous dark eyes.
Ev turned back to face me, making an obvious effort to smile. “Now, what should I order for me?”
“Decaf latte,” I said with a grin. I might not be able to give him a nap with a happy ending like I wanted, but I could make him smile.
The initial drink rush was over, so I could take my time, and I did a careful latte art just for him—a little sweater and two knitting needles.
“I love it.” Ev’s smile made me want to make him dozens of lattes.
“We are not quite to the sweater gifting stage, though.” He said the last bit like the punch line to a joke I should know.
“Knitting humor?” I asked.
“Something like that.” He winked at me as he collected the drinks and headed back to the table.
As the evening wound to a close, I came out from behind the counter to help put the tables back.
“So, what’s the verdict? Is Ev a good teacher?” I asked Jonas.
“The best. See what I made?” Jonas held out a scrap of lumpy knitted fabric. “It’s going to be a blanket for my guinea pig.”
“You’re not getting a guinea pig.” All three kids were desperate for a pet, but with my hours and their schedules, it so wasn’t happening. Jonas looked at me like I stole the last chocolate bar and I sighed. “Sorry, buddy. Maybe someday.”
“It would make a lovely coaster for a pot of tea,” Mira said faintly.
“Can I at least have a teapot? One that plugs in?” Jonas asked. Kid didn’t even drink tea, but that was how his brain worked—an errant comment from Mira and he was off to the races. All that boiling water and the kid with no impulse control? My insides went all wobbly at the thought. “How about a water pitcher?”
“I think I’ll take Mira home, get her settled while you close up,” Ev said, touching my shoulder. Even that small contact had me wanting to sink into him. “But then I can come and give you a ride home?”
“You don’t have to.” It would be a long trudge without a skateboard for Jonas, but we’d done it before.
“I want to.” Ev looked right at my mouth as he said the words. “And you do not work Sunday night right? I want to cook for you again.”
My whole body went hot at the memory of the last time Ev had cooked for me. When I’d finally eaten the food on my break, each bite had been laced with the memory of his kisses. I wasn’t sure whether he meant cook or cook, but I had to shake my head.
“It’s Brady’s birthday!” Jonas fairly trembled with excitement. “And we’re going to the zoo in the morning. Like last year. And then we’ll help him make the cake!”
“It’s your birthday?” Ev made a tsking sound, like I should have told him sooner.
“Yeah.” Truth was, I didn’t need a big fuss. Last year, Mom’s death had been fresher, and my birthday had been more about giving the kids something to get excited over and feel connected as a family about than something for me. But as I’d found out, kids love making traditions out of things. So zoo and a cake it was.
“Jonas? Do you think your plans could include dinner at my house?” Ev spoke directly to Jonas. Manipulative, brilliant bastard. “If you want help making the cake, you could come early. Or you can bring the cake and I will do dinner.”
Jonas considered his options with a very adultlike furrowed brow. “We’ll bring the cake. Do you know how to make whipped cream?”
“I do indeed,” Ev said solemnly. “Now, what is Brady’s favorite food?”
“Brady loves all the Turkish stuff you’ve made me,” I interjected before Jonas could request pizza or spaghetti, both of which were his favorites.
Jonas thought for a minute. “Nothing too weird. And lots of bread. The floppy kind you had with the soup.”
“Consider it done. Lots of bread. Maybe kebab? That’s meat on sticks?”
Jonas nodded. “We’ll bring him to you at dinnertime. He doesn’t want presents unless we make them ourselves.”
“That I can most certainly do.” Ev’s eyes sparkled.
Later, as he drove us home, I said quietly, “You don’t have to make me something. And the kids are going to exhaust Mira. And it’s not like we’ll be able to—”
“One more and and I’m going to make you barley water and knit you something unmentionable out of fake fur,” Ev grumbled. “It’s your birthday. People want to do nice things for you. Your job is to let them.”
“All right. Although I’m intrigued by the fake fur—”
“Hush. We do not speak of such atrocities.” Ev did an exaggerated shudder as he pulled up by the apartment building.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said, checking my phone to see a message that the twins were on their way home as well.
“Any time.” Ev spent a long moment looking right at my mouth, his eyes furrowed, like he was doing some complicated calculus about whether or not to kiss me good night.
I solved the issue for him by leaning in to brush a quick kiss across his lips. Damn. Even the briefest contact with Ev’s mouth had all the sizzle.
“Call me later.” I gave him a heated look promising all the whispered dirty talk he could stand. And yes, that was totally what my game was reduced to these days.
“Is Ev like your boyfriend?” Jonas asked as I grabbed my skateboard from the back of the car.
I waited until we were on the path to the apartment to answer. “Not exactly.”
“But you both like kissing boys right?” Jonas pressed.
“Yes. We both like kissing boys.” Oh, if only Ev saw it as simply as a ten-year-old.
“I don’t want to kiss a boy.” Jonas made a sour face as he considered the prospect.
“When you’re older, you can kiss whomever you’d like, as long as they want to kiss you back,” I said carefully, ruffling his hair.
“Ev kissed you back.” Jonas gave me a sly smile. “I think you guys should be boyfriends. I like him.”
“I like him too.” I sighed as I opened the door to the apartment. I like him far, far too much.
Chapter 9
Because we have spent so much time on gift knits the last few months, dear friends, I wanted to share my latest design with you. And I know I’m going to have a hundred comments, all asking me about the recipient, and all I can say is: no comment. Not yet at least…—Evren’s Yarnings
The day of my birthday was the sort of perfect Portland spring day that makes all the rainy months worth it—gorgeous blue skies, mild temperatures, and green everywhere we looked. People too. The buses and sidewalks were crammed with people soaking up the change in seasons. The zoo was packed, but the kids had a great time. We didn’t have the money to do many outings like this, so it was nice to indulge them a bit. The girls wore the flowers Ev had knit them, and I posed them by a statue and sent him the picture. He replied back quickly.
Happy birthday, tatlim. I am looking forward to later ;)
Ha. I sincerely doubted there would be anything to wink over tonight, not with the kids and Mira around and Renee glued to her phone like it was a needy infant, responding to the slightest beep with a little excited “oh!” Yeah, no way was I getting her to watch the kids long enough for us to sneak
off. And I also really needed to download a Turkish translator app. I knew he liked sneaking the little Turkish pet names in, but I really wanted some sort of hierarchy to them that could magically reveal how he felt about me. Was he over the bisexual bias enough to see me as more than a friend with benefits? Did I want to be seen that way? I studied the flamingo exhibit, like the gaudy birds might have a clue about my twisted feelings.
“Come on, Brady! Snakes are next!” Jonas bounced on his feet. Slimy reptiles. That was more like it. No mooning over fanciful creatures and even more unrealistic thoughts. I might love—
Wait. Where did that thought come from? I most certainly was not falling in love with Ev. Even I wasn’t that stupid.
“Wait up, buddy! We’re coming, too.” Stop thinking impossible things. Focus on the kids.
My thoughts were still jumbled when we arrived at Ev and Mira’s that night, lumpy cake in tow. It was supposed to be vanilla with chocolate frosting and sprinkles, but it looked more landslide than layer cake. The twins had taken a very rare nap when we’d come home, leaving me and Jonas to make the cake while Renee murmured sweet nothings into her phone.
Balancing the cake on the bus ride up Alberta didn’t help its appearance any. Ev let us in the back entrance, and he was exceedingly polite to Renee, whom he was meeting for the first time. When we reached the top of the stairs, he did that thing again where he kept looking at my mouth. I might not know exactly how we felt about each other, but I knew what that signal meant.
I brushed a quick kiss across his mouth, reveling in how his whole body seemed to light up from the contact.
“Eww.” Renee rolled her eyes. “If you get to make out with your boyfriend, does that mean I can bring Indigo over when I have the kids tomorrow?”
“Absolutely not.” I had rules with her about having friends over when she was watching the kids for good reason. I did, however, notice that neither Ev nor I corrected her about the boyfriend label.
“What can I help you with?” I asked him in the kitchen a few minutes later, once we got the kids settled in the living room with a TV program and a dozing Mira.
“This.” Ev pushed me against the fridge, kissing me hungrily. He licked at my lips before spearing me with his talented tongue. I loved when he took charge like this, and I was grateful the cold press of the fridge held me upright and kept me from combusting.
“Happy birthday,” Ev said as he pulled away. “Now you may help me plate things.”
“No fair.” I laughed. “You turn me into goo and then you put me to work?”
“Exactly.” He winked at me.
“Sorry Renee’s being pissy,” I said as I held a platter for Ev to arrange skewers of meat on. “She’s all hung up on this boy.”
“I know the feeling.” He gave me a long, searching look that made me shift from foot to foot. “Waiting for the next text.”
My laugh was tinged with the relief that I wasn’t alone in the craziness. “Counting down the hours until the house is quiet enough to call.”
“Trying to figure out how much kissing you can get away with on the clock.” He dumped a bunch of rice into a bowl.
I cast a glance back toward the living room. “Or with small people around.”
“At least one more.” Ev set the rice down and pulled me into the corner for another scorching kiss.
“Okay. Maybe I can’t be too hard on her,” I said, panting hard as we finally came up for air. “Does it bug you when the kids call you my boyfriend?”
“Should it?” Ev raised an eyebrow.
“No! I mean, I’m not encouraging it, but I wouldn’t mind…” I trailed off, not sure how much of my inner wants to reveal.
“Yes, you wouldn’t mind?” Ev encouraged, still all crowded into my space, not giving me room to regroup.
“I wouldn’t mind if it was…accurate.”
“Well, I am a male. And we are very good friends, yes?”
“Yeah…” I drew the word out. “If you want to get technical. But there are other definitions…”
“And you are going to let the kebabs get cold while you figure out which is most accurate?” Ev raised both eyebrows this time, his expression pure mirth. He had me on the ropes and he knew it.
“You’re enjoying this far too much,” I grumbled.
“The Knit Night ladies keep calling you my boyfriend, too,” Ev mused. “And as with the children, I strangely do not mind. Do we need a specific definition? Isn’t it enough to just enjoy this…whatever? For however long I’m still needed here?”
I need you here always. I realized with the sharp clarity of a perfect espresso shot that I didn’t want a whatever with Ev. I wanted the standard definition—the not seeing other people, cuddling up at the end of the day, putting each other first....
And there the fantasy fell apart because that wasn’t happening for either of us. We barely had time for discreet kissing, let alone a real relationship.
But damned if I didn’t want one.
“No phone at the table,” I said to Renee for the third time. She’d been hiding it in her palm and under the tablecloth, but I knew what she was up to.
“You texted Ev during dinner the other night,” she accused. She wasn’t wrong, and I resolved to crack down on both of us, even during quick meals.
“I had a good reason,” I lied. “And we are guests. Put the phone away.”
“It is fine.” Mira smiled indulgently at us. Her smile wasn’t quite worth the awkward family argument, though, and I needed Renee not to be rude.
“Fine. I think I’m taking off after dinner anyway. I’ve got a huge test tomorrow.”
“So you’re going home to study?” I couldn’t keep the skepticism from my voice.
“Library.” She studied her flat bread intently, refusing to meet my eyes. “There’re too many distractions at home.”
I had a feeling there was a six-foot distraction named Indigo at the library, but I leveled a glare at her instead.
“I can take you and the children home later,” Ev said to me.
“Wonderful.” Renee gave him a gold-medal smile. “See, Brady? It’ll all work out. You get to hang out with your boyfriend and I get to…study.”
I coughed. “Invite Indigo to get a coffee with you at People’s Cup this week. I think I need to lay eyeballs on this kid.”
“No!” Her eyes went wide. “You’ll scare him off. Besides, I haven’t exactly told him about…you.”
I had no idea whether she meant telling him about me being a bisexual and kind-of/sort-of having a boyfriend or telling him about me and the kids and her home responsibilities, but we couldn’t have this conversation in front of Ev and Mira. Ev got twitchy whenever the word bi came up, and besides, we didn’t need to air our family business in front of them when they had way more serious problems to confront.
“Bring him by,” I said sternly. “And we’ll talk more later.”
“You know, tatlim, it is always better to be honest,” Ev said to Renee. Wait. She was tatlim, too? I was back to feeling muddled about what Ev felt about me and what whatever meant.
Renee rolled her eyes at both of us and wasted no time in escaping as soon as her plate was empty. She didn’t even stick around for cake, which honestly was probably for the best. Her negative attitude had spread toxic vibes over the whole evening. She and I were going to have a long heart-to-heart very soon.
She gave me an IOU card for an evening off bedtime duty on her way out and my frustration softened a bit. She knew me better than anyone. No way could I raise these kids without her help.
Jonah shyly offered up the lumpy knit square he’d been working on all week. “It’s kind of a cross between a coaster and a towel and a scarf,” he said.
“I love it,” I said and ruffled his hair.
The twins both made me books with stick-figure
pictures and uneven writing, and my throat burned as I thought about how much Mom had loved gifts like that. “Can I take these to work? Show them off?” I asked, my voice a bit gruffer than usual.
“You should frame them,” Madison said confidently.
“I don’t want people looking at mine,” Morgan said. “I made it just for you.”
“Fair enough,” I said and turned my attention to the last package on the table. It was wrapped in shiny silver paper with a brown fabric ribbon with crisp corners and a perfect tape job worthy of a high-end department store. And it was exactly the wrong setting for Ev’s attention to detail to be turning me on, but then he glanced at the ribbon, and oh so subtly at my wrists, and I had to shift in the chair.
“This is from Mira and me,” Ev said, clearing his throat as he glanced away from my wrists.
“Oh, aşkim, you did most of the work,” she demurred. “I did a bit of finishing and blocking, that’s all.”
I opened the package to reveal a pair of hand-knit socks—and unlike the muted earth tone palate Ev preferred for himself, these were a sensuous ocean of undulating blue and green stripes. They reminded me of the trip to Seaside I’d taken with some friends senior year—back before everything had gotten complicated. They seemed to radiate peacefulness and were so soft I had to resist the urge to put them to my face.
“There is too much black in your wardrobe,” Ev said. “I would dress you in all blues if I could.”
“Uh. Thanks.” I knew I was blushing. Ev seemed to have a thing for my eyes, which I swore were a normal, average shade of blue but which Ev called “arrestingly bright.” He liked to make me look at him while we were making out. And there I went, thinking about sex at the dinner table again.
“I love the socks,” I said. I knew better than to ask how he’d guessed my foot size—knowing how sneaky he could be, he’d probably looked at my shoes last time they’d been on his floor, which was not something I needed the kids knowing.
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