. . friendly capacity?”
Liza felt the heat move up her cheeks. “Yes. Well . . . mm-hmm.” But Liza saw Arryn’s eyes narrow slightly and knew she knew Liza was lying.
Arryn sat back in her chair, her smile growing. “Hmm,” she hummed, raising one perfectly arched brow. Liza wanted to laugh. There was something mischievous about Reed’s sister, but in a sweet, charming way.
Arryn leaned forward suddenly. “I don’t believe you.” She grinned. “I think you like my brother. And I get a good feeling about you. So, now’s your chance.”
“My chance?”
Arryn nodded, lacing her hands on the table in front of her. “Ask me all about him. I’ll tell you anything.”
Liza laughed and shook her head. “No, I couldn’t.” She didn’t even know what to ask. But she couldn’t deny that it felt good to feel immediately accepted by this girl who clearly knew Reed better than anyone.
This is what it had felt like to have a sister, Liza thought with a small pang in her chest. She’d been closer to Mady, obviously, and the trauma of their home life was a constant weight that colored every aspect of their lives, but this brought to mind the sweet parts of sisterhood. The laughter that could only be shared between girls, the female camaraderie . . . God, I miss you, Mady. I miss all that we would have shared, all our lives. And the thought brought sadness, but not the overwhelming pain that such a thought would have had in the past.
“Okay, well if you won’t ask about him, I’ll tell you the important stuff.” Arryn paused, tapping her finger on her lip. “He’s loyal. Like, not just sorta loyal, like if he considers you one of his own, he’ll lay down on train tracks and die for you loyal.”
Liza’s chest felt tight. Yes, she could see that about him. And she realized that while Arryn was confiding in her, and hopefully because she’d been honest about her good feelings about Liza, what she was really doing was warning her. My brother’s a great person who deserves the best, she was saying. If you’re not here to treat him that way, you should leave.
Liza liked her even more.
“He’s sensitive. He’d probably hate it if he heard me say that, but it’s true. And I don’t mean sensitive in a weak way, I mean sensitive in a way where you’ll never get away with not telling him something because he’ll read it on your face.”
Yes, Liza had already learned that one.
“Tears slay him,” Arryn went on. “He gets all wide-eyed and fidgety and will do anything if it means you’ll stop crying.” A glint came into her dark, almond-shaped eyes. “Use that one if you need to. But for good, not for evil.” She winked at her and Liza laughed.
“Arryn?” Both women whipped their heads around and saw Reed standing in the doorway, looking between them with a confused look on his face. They hadn’t heard him enter over the sound of their own laughter.
Liza stood quickly, smoothing her skirt.
“Liza,” he said, and she heard the confusion in his tone, but she also heard the warmth. The happy surprise. And she felt an answering rush of affection.
“Hi. Hey,” she said.
“Hi.” He let his eyes linger on her a moment. “Are you okay?”
She bobbed her head. “Yes. I’m fine. Good. I dropped by to see you and Arryn was here.”
He turned his head to his sister. “Yeah? What’s that about?”
Arryn stood and picked up a key sitting on the counter. “I borrowed the extra one you leave at the farmhouse.”
“That’s for emergencies.”
Arryn rolled her eyes. “This is an emergency. Mom and Dad are driving me crazy.” She dragged out the last word.
“So you ran away?”
“I didn’t run away. I’m nineteen. I left them a note. I just decided to take a short vacation.”
“At my apartment?”
“Well, I’m a little low on funds,” she said, pressing her thumb and index finger together. “But I used the gym downstairs, hung out in the sauna for a while. I mean, I could go somewhere else if you want to loan me—”
“Why don’t you wait in the guest room while I talk to Liza?” he said, his tone terse, gaze direct.
“Fine. I need to dry my hair anyway.” She turned to Liza. “It was very nice meeting you. I hope I see you again soon.” She turned to leave and then turned back. “Oh, one last thing. Don’t play Monopoly with him. Ever. He doesn’t even