“It didn’t mean anything,” I say. “All we did was sleep. I only asked him to stay because I had this weird experience when I was a teenager where I thought someone was breaking into my house, so when I heard Reggie, I just got really freaked—” Willa holds up her hand. “Hold up,” she says. “What are you talking about?” I look at her, completely confused. What is she talking about, if not that? “About Peter sleeping in my bed last night.” Her eyes widen. “Wait, what?”
