It was the middle of the night, and I was being stupid.
I ended up going to a 24-hour diner, and after my phone blew up with calls from Mason, then Logan, and finally Taylor, I texted Taylor to tell her where I was.
I’m coming. She texted back. Don’t leave.
After that, my phone stopped ringing, so I assumed she’d told Mason and Logan where I was too.
Fifteen minutes, two cups of coffee, and a glass of water later, she came my way down the aisle between tables. She wore black leggings, an oversized hoodie sweatshirt, and a baseball cap pulled low over her face.
I half-snorted/half-laughed. “You could be in a magazine with that outfit.” Her hair was gorgeous. It had grown longer over the year, and some of it was pulled over her shoulder. The rest fell down her back.
I wasn’t a girl who
