Page 5 of Secondhand Secrets

Though Chip’s attention kept bouncing between Ally and Blaine, Blaine snapped his fingers and pointed to Chip. “That’s right. At MIT. And I hear you finished top of your class.”

Now Chip’s focus clung to Ally, his stiff gaze unreadable, while the bell to resume play now rang. Somehow, that tight expression pulled into a tiny smile, just as confusing as his previous look. “I better get back out there.”

Even though he spoke to the group at large, his message seemed meant for her alone, and then just like ten years prior, he turned and walked away.

And just like ten years ago, he stopped and peered over his shoulder to her one last time. Except, unlike ten years ago, there weren’t any tears. Only his renewed smile and a quick wink. His unspoken promise to see her again.

Three

“Must have been weird seeing Ally again.”

Chip turned from the stove in his home—once Sarah’s home, and before that, their childhood home—his sister’s steadfast amber gaze now holding firm from her position at the pale-wood dining table.

Oh, right, she wants an answer.

“Yeah, it was.” He poked at a steak sizzling in the pan, limiting his reaction to those three understated words. This was his first sit-down dinner with his sister and her new fiancé in his three days back in Harlow.

And even in those three days, he’d figured he’d see Ally eventually, but no amount of mental preparation had slowed the racing of his heart when he’d finally met her.

Just the first lock of gazes hit him with an onslaught of emotion, then came the pure ease of speaking with her again. He’d clung to her every word and reaction. Yearned for hours together to reconnect, instead of those mere few minutes.

What still baffled him now was how one short conversation could obliterate an entire decade of absence. Even more confusing, he hadn’t thought about much more than her in the long hours since…

Dean wandered into the bright, open-plan dining area, his added height and piercing blue eyes, turning all “wandering” into a somewhat intense stalk.

“You and Ally still haven’t ironed out your differences, have you?” He peered at his new fiancée and took a seat at the table beside her.

Sarah toyed with the carrot stick in her hand, her gaze falling to the tabletop while she shook her head.

“You two are fighting?” Chip switched the stove off and turned his full attention to his sister.

Even with Sarah’s perpetually prickly personality, he couldn’t imagine Ally being all that combative.

Maybe she’s changed…

“I wish we were fighting.” Sarah let out a rough laugh and met his gaze. “That day at Maynard’s, you know, the one when Emilia realized Dean was a Syndicate member, and he got arrested? Well, Ally said something about being glad she’s a wallflower, and she hasn’t spoken to me since.”

Chip frowned. Ally instigated this rift?

He couldn’t imagine her holding a grudge against anyone, let alone Sarah. They’d been friends for years. And why would she call herself a wallflower?

His past perceptions of Ally as mischievous, but harmless, took a hard dent. Now, he stared at Sarah in her fitted, white tank top, looking about ready to leave for a run, even though she wasn’t. As usual, the act of sitting still seemed unnatural on her. “What happened?”

“Let’s see, aside from the fact that our friendship began after you begged me to hover around Ally and keep her safe in your absence?” She shrugged and bit into her carrot stick, sending him a taunting sort of stare.

“Now, that’s a copout.” He shook his head, turning to the steak’s savory scent on the stove. “Every time you visited me in Boston, you had some funny story about Ally. Promises aside, you both got along just fine.”

He pierced a steak and dropped it on a plate, soon ferrying it over to his sister.

She held a hand out and took the food offering, her gaze pinned up at him. “Well then, I guess when you’ve known someone long enough, you’re bound to hit some trouble eventually…”

“No.” Dean let out a sigh, his attention falling to his fingertips already drumming a steady beat on the table. “Ally’s outright pissed at you. What did I say about letting that whole charade of us not being together run on too long? You let her believe that I was free to date, leading her to a humiliating attempt to get my attention. She thinks you lied.”

“Hey”—she swatted out a hand and gave Dean a weak tap on the bicep—“you lied too!”

“I was just some blow-in from L.A.” He didn’t return her offended glare, his perpetually unaffected gaze somehow more impactful. “You were her best friend.”

The tension on her face slipped away, the closest Sarah would get to an admission of guilt. “Well, ‘the charade’ was your idea.”

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