My arms unfolded slowly. Why was he being so vague? I took a step forward as I opened my mouth, but snapped it shut as I remembered what Zayne had said last night.

There’s a lot you don’t know.

If Zayne wanted me to know, he’d tell me, and if he didn’t, then I needed to engage in a little mind your own business.

I hated minding my own business.

“But what are you—” I heard the bathroom door click shut. “Okay. I’ll just wait out here while you take your ten-year-long shower and then I’ll just wait here all afternoon until you’re done doing whatever it is that you’re doing.”

There was no response.

Obviously.

I let my head fall back and groaned, “Ugh.”

“Yeah.”

Squeaking, I whipped around and saw Peanut by the kitchen island. He nodded.

“You guys are as awkward as getting caught picking your nose. You should work on that.”

I sighed. “Thanks for the advice I didn’t ask for.”

“You’re welcome.” He gave me a thumbs-up with half his arm transparent. “And by the way—a dude in the shower for that long, after waking up in the morning? What do you think he’s doing? Washing his hair twice and deep conditioning with Herbal Essences? Uh, no.”

“I...” My eyes widened. “Oh. Oh.”

“Let him live his best life.” Peanut vanished.

My gaze flew to the bedroom, and my imagination ran wiiild for about 10.3 seconds. Then, because there was nothing else to do, I walked to the couch and face-planted it.

“‘When you was young, you never needed anyone,’” Peanut sang from somewhere in the apartment.

I needed to do laundry. I guessed I could do that this afternoon since I was—

“‘All by yourself.’” Peanut came through the bedroom wall and continued singing about me—or someone—being alone and insecure and unable to see love.

I blinked slowly. “You’re a jerk.”

“‘But you’re all by yourself!’” he sang back to me, disappearing through the wall.

I’d been all by myself since Zayne left about thirty minutes ago, off to do stuff, and I had no idea what to do with my afternoon. It was the first free time I’d had since I’d come here.

Twisting my hair into a topknot, I turned toward the open bedroom door. “Hey, Peanut, you still here?”

“Yeah,” he called back. “What’s up, buttercup?”

“That spirit last night—did he say anything to you?”

“Besides referring to me as Casper?” Peanut blinked into existence in the doorway. “No. He was just poking around the apartment like he belonged here.”

“That’s weird.” I glanced at the messy bed, frowning. “I guess he saw me outside and followed me here.”

“Then why did he freak out when he realized you could see him?”