“I believe in you.”
The words hang between us, simple and devastating. I step closer, drawn by her fierce loyalty and the way she’s looking at me like I’m worth fighting for.
“Eliza…” I reach up to brush flour from her cheek.
A tremendous bray erupts from outside, followed by the unmistakable thump of Chiron attacking the side of the house. We spring apart, both of us laughing despite the interrupted moment.
“That ass has terrible timing,” Eliza mutters, but she won’t quite meet my eyes.
“Or perfect timing,” I mumble.
Because if that donkey hadn’t interrupted us, I would have kissed her. And once I started, I’m not sure I would have been able to stop.
13
Eliza
I stare at the door Reed disappeared through when headlights sweep across my kitchen window. I hear laughter and van doors closing, which means trouble in the form of my meddling sisters.
Eden and Eila tumble through my front door without knocking, Eden carrying a six-pack of glass bottles and Eila oozing a drunken aura.
“We brought the prototype,” Eila announces as Eden sets the bottles on my counter with ceremony. “Honey hop beer. Eden’s wildflower honey with my cascade hops.”
“It’s nine o’clock,” I point out.
“Perfect time for alcohol,” Eden says, then stops mid-step. “Holy shit, Liza. You decorated.”
I follow her gaze around my living room, seeing it through her eyes. The scattered evergreen boughs rest on the mantle. String lights wind around the window frames. The wooden goat ornament Reed gave me sits prominently on the coffee table next to the containers of animal cookies.
“It’s nothing,” I mutter.
“It’s definitely something.” Eila pokes at the record player, which is still spinning Frank Sinatra. “Since when do you listen to crooner music?”
“Since I felt like it.”
Eden opens one of the bottles, using her silver bangle to pop the cap and pours three small glasses of amber liquid. “This smells incredible.” She glances toward my kitchen window where I’ve set up a small hydroponic herb garden. “When did you start growing basil indoors?”
“Reed mentioned the setup was simple for herbs.” The words slip out before I can stop them. “Someone was giving away the countertop thing on Buy Nothing.”
My sisters exchange a look loaded with enough meaning to power the city grid.
“Reed mentioned…” Eila repeats slowly.
“It was just a suggestion.”
“Uh-huh.” Eden hands me a glass. “How is Tree Boy?”
“Fine.” I take a sip of the beer, which is amazing—the honey rounds out the hoppy bite perfectly. “This is good.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Eila says, settling onto my couch with obvious plans to stay awhile. “Spill.”
“There’s nothing to spill. We made cookies for tomorrow’s exchange. He helped with the dishes. End of story.”
“Really?” Eden perches on the arm of my ancient recliner. “Because you’ve got flour in your hair and you’re glowing. I’m thinking you just got properly kissed.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “I am not glowing.”
“You are definitely glowing,” Eila confirms. “Also, you never put up decorations. Ever. Remember last year when Eva begged you to hang a spiderweb for Halloween, and you told her holidays are a capitalist conspiracy?”
