I stretched out on the bed, pulling the blanket over my legs. The guest room wasn’t exactly soundproof, and every word he said seemed to echo through the thin walls. It didn’t help that he had one of those loud, obnoxious laughs—the kind that grated on your nerves after about five seconds.
From the sound of it, Anya was enjoying herself, too. I could hear her laughter, light and carefree, mingling with his deeper voice. They were probably lounging on the couch, drinks in hand, completely unaware—or maybe just unconcerned—that I was upstairs, trying to ignore their presence.
I sighed again, debating whether I should put in my earbuds and drown them out with music. But even that felt like too much effort. Besides, with my luck, the battery on my phone would probably die halfway through a
