I wrapped my arms around my body as I watched him go.

Hell, Kick Hanson had me.

“Evie,” Mum cut into my thoughts, and I spun around to look at her. “What’s up?”

“Huh?” God, my brain had turned to mush after Kick got to it.

“Well, you came over, so I figure you wanted something.”

I went and sat on the couch with her. “No, I just came to see how you were,” I said, glancing at her to see how she was doing. Usually, tiredness marred her face, but lately she’d been doing better. After Shelly’s death, Mum had sunk into a deep depression and never really recovered. She’d retreated within and hardly left the house. It was only recently she’d started to really come out of it and seemed much happier these days. But it took a lot of work on her behalf, and I knew that, so I did my best to help her out whenever I could and checked in on her regularly.

“Thank you,” she said, giving me a sad smile, “How are you, baby? I worry about you.”

Her words caused a flush of happiness through my body. One of the side effects of her depression was an inability to care for her kids the way a mother should. She’d been unable to show us much affection and that had lasted for years. These days she gave us random pieces of affection so when she did, I grabbed it with both hands and held tight.

“I’ll be okay. You know what it’s like. I’ve just gotta take it one day at a time.”

We sat in silence for a little while and then she astounded me by opening up in a way she never had. “One day at a time is all you have to do. But don’t do what I did, Evie. If you’re struggling, go and see someone to help you. I closed down on you all, and that was the absolute worst thing I could have done. Most of the time, you will probably just want to be left alone, and while you do need that, you also need to talk about what you’re going through. Not all the time, but don’t shut down. Promise me you won’t do that.”

“I promise,” I whispered, my voice catching in my throat at her rare openness.

Maybe after all these years, I’d finally get my mum back.

***

I shut my eyes and let myself slide deeper into the bath water. Darkness surrounded me except for the flickering of some candles I’d set around the bathroom. Lavender for relaxation.

It’d been a long day, and after leaving Mum’s house this afternoon I’d come home, hoping to sink into the couch and not leave it all night. Best laid plans never worked out, though. My neighbour had called me in a panic. Her washing machine had flooded her laundry and she needed help with her kids while she dealt with her emergency. Three hours later, I’d traipsed home even more exhausted.

Thoughts of my father and his predicament filled my mind as I lay in the bath. As much as I tried to force them out, at least just for the duration of my bath, I couldn’t stop them coming. I’d contacted my bank today and begged for a loan, but seeing as I already had a maxed out credit card and a personal loan on my car, they wouldn’t lend me anymore. The two thousand dollars I had saved would hardly help my father so I’d then asked some friends if they could lend me any money but the most they could come up with was another thousand. I had six more days to figure this out and not many people left to ask.

Shit.

I sat up in the bath, water sloshing everywhere because I moved so quickly. Nausea hit my gut and I had to take some deep breaths to get my breathing under control.

What the hell am I going to do?

What the hell is my father going to do?

As I sat there, with my hands gripping the sides of the bath and my concentration focused on regaining my breaths, a loud knock on the front door filled the silence in my house.

Who the hell would be knocking on my door at ten o’clock at night?

I stayed in the bath, waiting to see if they went away, but when they knocked again, I pushed myself up and stepped out of the bath. Wrapping my towel around me without even drying myself off, I stalked to the front of the house.

When I got to the front door, I abruptly stopped.

Was I seriously going to answer the door at this time of night wrapped in a freaking towel?

Before I could even process that question and answer it, the person on the other side called out. “Evie, it’s Kick. Open up.”

Oh my god, he had to be kidding me.

Without any further thought, I yanked the door open and glared at him.

His gaze travelled down my body and then back up to meet my eyes. Stepping forward, he raised one arm up and leant it against the door jamb. “Sweetheart, you’re a sight for sore fuckin’ eyes,” he said.

I huffed out a breath and shook my head at him. “What are you doing here at this time of night, Kick?”

“What? No hello? No invitation in?” His tone was playful, flirtatious, and I knew we were heading into dangerous territory.

I jerked my chin at the door. “Shut it after you,” I said and then began walking down my hall. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a minute,” I yelled out as I made my way into my bedroom to put some clothes on.

His boots sounded behind me. “Don’t need to get changed on my account,” he said, his sexy voice causing me to shiver as it drifted across my skin.

I ignored him and continued to the bedroom. No way would Kick and I be having a conversation with me wrapped only in a towel.

When I met him in the kitchen a couple of minutes later, he was sitting at the table with his legs stretched out in front of him and his arms crossed over his chest.