“Yuck?” I finish for him, smiling softly, less at the word than at what Reid has told me—something about his private life, something that’s not tied up with his broken engagement. “You have a sister?”

Another nod while he keeps those blue eyes so focused on me, his fan-fucking-tastic face fixed in concern.

“She’s younger. She still lives at home with my parents.”

“Oh,” I say, but suddenly I have ten thousand questions, so many questions about Reid and his life that the weight of them distracts me from the extremely unpleasant weight in my abdomen. It would be nice to sit for a while, to put my feet up. I’ll rest and drink some water, and if it doesn’t help, I’ll make my way back to the train and go home to sleep it off, ask Reid if he can meet again in a couple of days.

But for now, while I’m waiting it out—why not play a game of twenty questions?

“There are seven of you?” I say, my voice high-pitched.

Reid flattens his lips, but this is the kind of lip flattening that I now know means he’s hiding a smile.

“There are.”

I adjust my ass on the hard slats of the bench beneath me. It may not be all that comfortable in terms of furniture, but it’s lovely, this enclosure—small and shady and quiet, even though it’s only a few steps off the busy traffic on Sixth. Around the various landscaped beds are low, arched black fences, and while the landscaping is still sparse this early, most of the bushes are full and green, and the trees above us rustle with a light breeze.

Best of all? There’re two signs that seemed to greet us when we came in, both on the same wall of the building that forms one edge of the park. They’re old, faded, and partially obscured by the trees, both advertising the same local pharmacy that’s no longer in business. One has white letters on a black background; the other, black letters on white. Sans serif fonts, sturdy and practical, more lovely for the wear and tear, and every time I ask Reid a question, he looks up at them.

“Do you all look the same?” I ask now, my eyes wide. Seven Sutherland siblings, he’d told me. Six boys and one girl. After this I’m going to ask if they ever performed a concert in Austria, or had a series of romance novels written about them.

It is ridiculous how much better I feel.

Reid looks at the sign, his brow furrowed. “Some of us do, I suppose. Connor and Garrett and I, we all have this hair color, same as my dad.”

Do they all have your jawline?! I want to ask.

“But Owen and Ryan and Seth and Cady all have my mom’s dark hair.”