Holly hits me with the full weight of her attention. “Regular phone calls and everything?” The hope in her voice gives me all the opening I need.

“Why stop at phone calls? Other than Fred, we’re all in Philly. You wanna hang out, then just give me a place and time.”

I know I’ve said the right thing when her soft mouth curls up at the corners. The sweet smile does strange things to my chest, and suddenly, every inch of my skin heats up.

I’m so screwed.

HOLLY

Mr. Distractingly Devastating is getting back on my good list.

The idea of exchanging good-byes with this family today and then Marcus having his new kidney in a few months, no problem, is not something I can trust. I don’t need tabs on Fred twenty-four/seven or anything, but forming some sort of friendship could only help the situation. Same thinking when it comes to Mr. … okay, I should probably start calling him Ben.

“I’ll hold you to that. But Marcus just moved to New York City, so it’s really just me who’s local.”

Not that my brother is pushing for a get-together. Marcus is invested, but he has always been a bit of a loner. He trusts me to handle the human interactions most times.

“Yes, tell us about yourselves. All we really know are your names, that Marcus needs a kidney, and that you’re willing to donate one.” Ben’s mom stares at me, her gaze as fixed as a missile target.

I’m not intimidated. Mrs. Gerhard is my kind of woman. Straight to the point.

“Okay, sure. So, Marcus”—I wave my hand at my brother, knowing that he wants me to take over the introductions—“moved because he was offered a job at an architecture firm. That’s what he does for a living. Designing buildings and spaces. He’s pretty much a genius at it.”

“Holly.” Marcus uses his chiding big-brother tone, but I just roll my eyes at him.

“And, unless he’s trying to get you to hire him, he’s annoyingly modest about how amazing his work is.” Now, he’s the one rolling his eyes, but I just ignore him, as is mandated in the little sister’s guidebook. “As for me, I’m a student at Wharton, the business school at—”

“The University of Pennsylvania,” Mrs. Gerhard finishes my sentence with a surprised look.

I don’t know why though—unless she’s shocked that I made it into an Ivy League school.

“How long have you been at UPenn?” That’s from Ben’s father.

“I just started my third year. I’m working on a BS in economics and hoping to qualify for the fast-track MBA program.”

“That is a wonderful coincidence.” Ben’s mother smiles at me, so some of my defensiveness melts away.

“What is?”

“Well, we were excited enough to learn that there was a donor living in Philadelphia who was a match for Ben. But then to find out that you two attend the same university? It’s a small world!”