"Stuff?" Verity couldn't help herself asking, even though she was certain she didn't want to know the answer. Knowing meant she had to do something, and she wasn't sure she could.
Shaking her head, Verity cocked her head to the side, listening to the coffee maker. "Would Amity let you drunkenly ramble at her at two in the morning and feed you crisps and coffee?" She jerked her thumb towards the kitchen, silently asking him if he wanted the coffee. "I'll give you a hint. She wouldn't. Cos I've tried."