9:00 a.m.
The hum of the industrial dryers and the scent of lavender detergent filled the campus laundromat.
Taylor was sitting on a folding table, her legs swinging back and forth. She was peeling the label off a water bottle, her eyes fixed on me as I pulled a hoodie from the dryer.
"So," Taylor started, her voice dropping into that low tone she used when she was about to pounce.
"The MacBook Pro. The silver bracelet and the fact that you didn't come back to the dorm until 6:00 a.m. looking like you’d just stepped out of a perfume commercial."
I buried my face in the warm hoodie, trying to hide the blush creeping up my neck.
"It was just a nice night, Tay. We talked. A lot."
"Oh, I bet you did," she teased, hopping off the table to stand in front of me. She crossed her arms, a s
