Page 121 of From Drummer to Gamer

I narrowed my eyes. “Is that what you have to say?”

He exhaled before opening the door farther. “Come on in,” he said, eyeing Sierra with question.

“This is Sierra.”

He raised a brow but gave her a polite nod, which she returned with a small smile.

“Just so you know, your sister is not here,” Lan muttered as he padded to the living room. Katy and Lan lived in a sprawling modern mansion with stark white, clean aesthetic decor that had too many glass windows to count. Their living room had a view overlooking the hills and their outdoor infinity pool. It was a place I could never call home; it was more of a model house.

“Where is she?” I asked, following him.

“Not here.” He crashed down on the couch with a heavy sigh.

“Thenwhereis she?” I questioned, my tone stiff as I gestured for Sierra to take a seat and she did quietly.

Lan rolled his head back on the couch. “I just got here and when I called her, she said she was out of town.”

“Where were you?”

“I was out riding.”

Lan’s favorite thing to do other than brooding over the piano or following around my sister was his motorcycle obsession. He sometimes disappeared for weeks, crossing states riding on his favorite bike.

Lines creased my forehead as I really took him in. He did look exhausted—his T-shirt was creased, his dark brown hair longer than usual, and a thin layer of stubble covered his jaw. Hell, he looked worse than my sister.

“Lan, tell me what the fuck is going on with you both?”

He froze before his sharp eyes snapped to me. “That’s between me and Katy.”

Oh, so somethingwasgoing on between them.

“Hmm, mind if I use the restroom?” Sierra asked, her eyes bouncing between us both. She could probably feel the tense energy radiating from the room and wanted to give us some space.

“Sure, it’s second door down the hallway, past the kitchen,” I said softly, and she nodded, leaping to her feet as she hurried away.

“You’re with her,” Lan stated, his eyes followed mine, zeroing in on Sierra’s back disappearing down the hallway.

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t seem to be your usual type.”

“I don’t have a type.”

“Really? All the women you’ve dated either had a stick up their ass or were all prissy bitches.”

“Enough about me. Can we focus back on my sister, please?”

He sighed, his eyes darting back to mine. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“When did you call her? She won’t pick up any of my calls.”

“Just a while ago,” he mumbled, pulling out his phone and thumbing through it. A moment passed before the shrill sound of the ring slithered through the air.

Right at the seventh ring, Katy’s voice flowed through. “Lan?” she asked in a mellow, hesitant tone.

And it stung to know my sister didn’t pick up my calls but still picked up his.

“Matty’s here, and he wants to talk to you,” Lan muttered as he leaned over and handed me the phone.

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