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Ramona groaned louder.

“Plus, this is not like Elena,” April said. “I highly doubt another narcissist of her level even exists in the world, and if they do, goddess help us all.”

Ramona peeked at April through her fingers. “She called me a slut.”

April’s brows lifted. “In a fun, kinky way, I hope.”

Ramona’s face flamed, and she dropped her hands. “Of course.”

April smirked. “And you liked it.”

“God, I did,” Ramona said, “but now she’s disappeared, and I’m not sure whether to report her missing or be pissed off that she ghosted me in her own house.”

“There’s got to be an explanation.”

“Maybe,” Ramona said. “Maybe I should—”

But she froze when another person sauntered into the room from the hallway that led to the two small bedrooms. Not just any person.

Leigh.

“Morning,” they said, looking bleary and mussed. Their hair was a complete mess, at least five inches tall, and they wore April’s favorite Sleater-Kinney T-shirt.

“Um” was all Ramona could say.

“Coffee’s in the kitchen,” April said.

Leigh sauntered off, and Ramona pointed at April’s tank top. “That’s Leigh’s.”

April shrugged and sipped her coffee. “I ran into them again after I locked up the shop and was craving ice cream.”

“They were at Sugar Sandy’s?”

“Eats Chocolate-Chocolate Monster like it’s laced with Molly. You remember that about them.”

Ramona shook her head. “You two didn’t waste any time.”

April grinned. “They’re only here for a few days. And let me tell you, they have learned someskillssince the last time.”

Ramona lowered her voice. “I thought if I wasn’t allowed to hook up with Logan, you couldn’t hook up with Leigh.”

“No such deal was ever made, darling. You said if you dated, then I had to date, and this”—she plucked at the chest of Leigh’s tank top—“is not a date. It’s just sex. I’m not in love with Leigh, nor do I want to be. Cloverians really need to expand their ideas about sex and pleasure.” She leaned forward. “I have to tell you, Leigh does this thing with their thumb that—”

“You’re here early, Ramona,” Leigh said, reappearing with coffee and plopping into the armchair, eliciting an annoyed mew from Bianca.

“It’s after eleven o’clock,” Ramona said.

“Is it?” Leigh said, then nothing else, sitting with one ankle propped on their knee as they sipped their coffee, looking exactly like the quintessential fuckboi they were.

“Ramona is having some girl trouble,” April said.

“April,” Ramona said.

“What? Leigh is an expert at girl trouble.”

Leigh smiled over their coffee mug. “Giselle?”

“Who?” April said.