Page 63 of Home Sweet Home

“That girl can’t make up her fucking mind. Which one of those fucking animals is Bug? The mystery of the century.” She took another sip. “How’s having the sperm donor back? He asked for a loan yet?”

Guilt replaced the warmth of the coffee. As she’d expected, Josh hadn’t texted her, which she could only assume was out of spite. “Not yet. He said something about a business, though.”

Kayla raised an eyebrow. “Plot twist.”

“Ready for your last day?” Evie asked, ready to talk about anything but her dad.

“It’s weird. Been at Joe’s five years now? But I’m so fucking excited. Can’t wait for you to see the salon tonight. It’s looking fire.” Kayla drained her cup. “Gotta wake up Ryleigh. Kenny’s still at the hospital, so she’s coming with us to Joe’s. And that girl is not a morning person, so prepare yourself for Miss Crankypants.”

Another snore reverberated through the kitchen, so loud Evie jumped. Evie looked at Kayla, and they shared a silent laugh. Kayla was halfway out of the kitchen when she turned and said, “Huh. I just realized. You can say you slept with West Hawthorne now.”

With Kayla gone, Evie drank the rest of her coffee then went back to the living room and perched on the edge of the couch. Like everything else, West didn’t half-ass sleeping. He was deep in it, eyes squeezed shut, breathing deep and slow. It was the kind of sleep where she could throw a bucket of ice water on him and he would go on snoring, undeterred. Evie watched him for a few more snores before it occurred to her that watching people sleep was creepy.

“Hey,” she said. It took a few shoulder shakes before he opened his eyes, slowly and reluctantly, like she was interrupting the best dream he’d ever had. She saw the moment he left dreamland and came back to reality. When he recognized her, his eyes softened as the corners crinkled, a smile creeping onto his lips as he propped himself up.

“Morning, Peach,” he said, his voice ragged and hoarse, so primal it made her breath catch. “We fell asleep.”

“We fell asleep,” Evie said.

His neck cracked as he twisted it. Neither of them had chosen ergonomic sleeping positions, but his head had been at a ninety-degree angle. “What were we watching?”

“The Devil Wears Prada.” The last image Evie remembered was Emily Blunt’s character getting hit by a taxi, scarves floating through the air.

“Right. Meryl,” he said, his eyelids heavy, a lazy smile on his lips. “Seeing your face when I woke up. That was nice.”

He leaned toward her, but she used her hand as a barrier. “I haven’t brushed my teeth.”

“What’s that got anything to do with anything, Peach?” he said, his lips pressing gently against hers.

“No,” Ryleigh whined from behind her closed door, probably because Kayla was trying to get her dressed, but West retreated, putting a couch cushion of distance between them.

It felt like a dream, but there he was, as beautiful as ever and only a few inches from her and smiling because of having slept with her. More than anything, she wanted to pick up where they’d left off in his kitchen, but the tables at Joe’s wouldn’t set themselves.

“I’ve got work,” Evie said.

“See you at practice, then.”

“And we have Kayla’s thing after,” Evie reminded him.

A grin spread across his face. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

* * *

“Welcome to Kayla’s Cuts,”Kayla said, Ryleigh tucked under her arm as she gestured toward the salon. “Buckle up for the grand tour.”

“Wow,” Evie said. “Yes please.”

It looked so different from when she and West had helped paint. If there had been ants, they had long been sent to insect heaven. Kayla had switched out the fluorescent bulbs for softer ones that cast a warm haze over the room, and Evie was more convinced than ever that Ryleigh was an artistic genius. The mishmash of colors all worked together, creating a space that was bright and inviting, with a touch of eccentricity.Just like Kayla.

“Our first and most important stop…” Kayla led them to a console table covered in bottles of liquor and a stack of red Solo cups.

Kenny manned the table. He had bags under his eyes but a smile on his face.

“How’s your dad?” West asked.

“He’s doing just fine. Nice of you to ask,” Kenny said, ruffling Ryleigh’s hair. “And thanks for watching this little squirt. What can I get you to drink?”

“Get Evie some wine,” Kayla said.

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