“Yeah, um… how did you know?”
“Ivy mentioned it,” she says smoothly.
I glance at Ivy.
She beams.
“I might have casually dropped it into conversation when I ran into Violet at the coffee shop,” she says. “You know. Like a normal person.”
“You are not?—”
“Oh! I brought coffee.”
Ivy takes the Luna from Violet, murmuring over the cat.
Violet heads to her car, then returns with a cardboard drink carrier.
She holds it out like a peace offering.
I stare at it. “Why?”
“Because moving is miserable,” Violet says simply. “And you need help.” She gestures to the moving truck I rented.
Ivy snatches a coffee. “I may have mentioned what Sebastian and I drink.” She hands his over, then nods toward Violet. “She already knows what you drink, Drew.”
Of course she does.
Violet holds my drink out to me.
I take a sip.
Yup. It’s my drink.
Hot, bitter, and thick like sludge. Or that’s what my brother said when he tried my coffee.
I drag in a slow breath, trying to get a grip on this situation before it spirals completely out of control.
“Thank you,” I say carefully. “You didn’t have to come?—”
“I wanted to,” Violet says softly. There’s no hesitation in her voice.
My chest tightens. I ignore it.
“Right,” I say. “Well. Thanks. That’s?—”
Helpful?
Suspicious?
Probably both.
She gives me a look I haven’t seen from her before.
I glance at Ivy.
Maybe I have seen that look before.
Ivy looks at Sebastian like that.
