“Well, don’t keep us waiting. What made it so great?” A voice I’d recognize a mile away catches my attention. Of course he’s here; there’s never Owen and Ali without Reeve. The dynamic trio.
I can’t contain my grin. No matter what, Reeve Sawyer has the ability to bring a schoolgirl giggle out of me. Reeve smiles back—it’s brief but I see it—as he saunters off the stage to the far right, which the lads use when their band plays.
“I sold a bunch of art at the Portobello Market this morning,” I say, gaining approving looks from the guys. “And I think I made a new friend!” I beam as I think back to Stana who I met at the market.
“A girlfriend or a boyfriend?” Owen teases. It’s an instinctive and completely irrational response on my part, but my gaze seeks out Reeve. I’m hoping for any trace of a reaction, but to my dismay, his expression is indifferent.
“A girl!” I reply to Owen, grabbing my drink to go sit by him. Owen never hesitates to be interested in my life. He’s the ultimate hype man.
“Well, tell us more. This is what, your first girlfriend since Poppy left?” he asks.
Ali grimaces at the mention of his ex and my former best friend. Poppy and I didn’t end on bad blood at all, but her abrupt move to Paris put a pin in our friendship.
“Who has time to make new girlfriends when I’ve always gotta look out for you three?” I tease. He smiles, shaking his head before downing his pint in a few sips.
“Anyway, that’s beside the point. Her name is Stana; she’s American and she’s just moved here. Around my age,” I throw in. “Absolute doll, plus a complete stunner, and seriously in need of a mate.”
Owen leans forward, interested, while Reeve pulls out the chair beside me and sits down. Ali’s still prepping for the night, his head clearly only half in the conversation.
“You gonna bring her around Saint Street?” Reeve asks. He’s always had a slight aversion to new people; his friendship with Poppy was practically nonexistent, and she was around for a few years. But to give Reeve credit, when he warms up to someone, as he has us three, he’s there for you, hell or high water.
“Eventually,” I confirm. “I don’t want to completely throw her into the deep end before I know she’ll stick around.”
Owen laughs, and a small smirk tugs at Reeve’s lips.
“I know I’m probably getting ahead of myself, but there was something about her that just made me feel like we could be good friends. Plus, it can never hurt to have a few girlfriends. I’m constantly surrounded by all this testosterone; I need something to mellow it out with!”
The guys roll their eyes in jest as I pull out my lipstick and reapply, hoping the edges match up as I managed to lose my mirror.
Owen rises from the table, leaving Reeve and me to our own devices. There is no awkwardness between us, our encounter three years ago a distant memory.
Reeve inclines his head, and I turn mine to the side in question. Reaching out, he swipes his thumb across the base of my lip.
I stare at him in question like a dumbstruck idiot.
“Lipstick.”
Oh. I had lippy on my face. Jesus.
“Thanks.” I grin, attempting to hide any semblance of embarrassment. What am I gonna do, ask him to touch my lip again? Lord knows rational thought goes out the window when he’s around, so I could. Who knows?
He just nods before pulling out his mobile and replying to a message.
“Em, you coming to Evie’s tonight?” Ali yells from behind the bar. I drag myself out of my chair and head over to him.
I smile up at my older brother. “You bet your ass I am. I wouldn’t miss a Sunday roast with Evie even if it was my child’s first birthday.”
“She’s coming,” Ali calls out to Owen, who’s on the phone in the corner, talking to who I’d assume is Evie, his ma.
Owen nods before redirecting his attention to his mama. Owen is the world’s biggest mama’s boy, and Evie worked her arse off all her life to make sure Owen and his little brother were taken care of. Owen’s dad died when he was just a kid. I can’t imagine growing up without my dad; I’m thankful I got him, even if it was just for sixteen years.
“I can’t believe we aren’t gonna see her for nearly an entire year!” I throw my body against the bar, full of dramatics. “Who’s gonna cook me Sunday roasts while Evie is living her best life globe-trotting?”
Ali laughs, both of us knowing I’m fully kidding.
If anyone deserves to travel the world for nine months, it’s this woman. Evie met her new husband, Steve, four years ago, and after marrying last summer, they’re finally taking their long-awaited and long-deserved honeymoon.
“Mum’s keen you’re all coming tonight,” Owen says as he takes a seat next to me. “She says come at six or don’t come at all.”
“Perfect. I gotta go home and change. Can’t let Evie down by looking like a dog.” I hop down, collect my stuff, and say my goodbyes.
“You heading to the Tube?” Reeve asks.
I nod.
“I’ll come with you,” he says, grabbing his jacket.
“See ya at six sharp.” I wink at Owen as Reeve and I exit.
“I’m gonna miss Evie and her cooking,” Reeve says as we walk the Notting Hill streets together.
“Tell me about it. The only times I get a home-cooked meal are on Sundays with her. I might have to start cooking for myself.” I cringe.
“Oh, the horror!” Reeve teases. I nudge his arm with my shoulder as we laugh, side by side. It’s in moments like these I thank my lucky stars I didn’t fuck it all up between the two of us all those years ago.
“You could learn how to cook, you know.”
I shake my head. “No thanks, I would burn down my flat and no one wants that.” We keep walking, and I find myself saying my inner thoughts aloud—something I would usually want to keep to myself.
“It’s more than that, anyway.” The words are louder than a whisper but have raw truth in them. “Evie is like a mum to me. I guess being around her, even for something as small as eating that food, makes me feel like I’m at home. I know it’s stupid, and nothing would ever replace my mum and dad. But sometimes it’s nice knowing there’s someone who cares enough to make sure there’s chicken for everyone and that my potatoes are extra crispy.” I laugh at how silly it all is, but people remembering those small things about you can make all the difference.
We’re quiet for a few moments, perhaps both of us lost in memories of our time with Evie, a surrogate mother to us all. Reeve’s home life is no more functional than mine or Ali’s.
“I could do it for you.” Reeve finally speaks, his words catching me off guard.
I peer at him, eyes questioning.
“I’m no Evie. But the one thing my nan taught me was how to cook. So, uh, I could do it. If you want, I mean.” Nervous Reeve, that’s a new one.
“You’d do that for me?”
He nods, zero hesitation. “You’re family, Emilia. Of course. You just can’t tell the guys about my special skills. Otherwise they’ll make me be in the kitchen for every birthday and holiday, and I don’t have it in me.”