I was brushing out the last bit of tangles in my hair when I heard it—the unmistakable edge in Ramona’s voice.
“Are you serious right now?” she snapped, her voice rising from down the hall. “You’re really standing on what you said? You’re not coming to dinner with me?”
I froze, my brush mid-air, eyes darting toward the door.
From the corner where she sat cross-legged on the bed, Sloane looked up too. “Is that...?”
I nodded slowly. “Ramona.”
Sloane’s brows lifted in silent alarm. “Here we go.”
“I don’t get you, Alex!” Ramona’s voice carried again, louder this time. “We literally won the game together. You promised—!”
“Don’t say that. I didn’t promise you anything,” Alexander’s voice came in low and even, but I could hear the strain in it, the way he was trying to keep his comp
