Evan nodded. "That is so." His eyes dropped, of their own accord, to her chest. "I mean, I'm not going to stop you if you want to take it off, but that's definitely not why I'm here. I just wanted to innocently bake some goods. You're the one talking about mixing butter and sugar and covering me in flour. I only got a tiny teensy bit on your face."
He let go of her then. "Lucky for you, I've got a shirt on under this. Or should I say...unlucky for you?" He quirked a brow and then winked at her before pulling his polo shirt over his head. As it moved, flour shook out of it and littered the floor even more. Even his beater underneath had some powdery bits on it.