"Oh, stop. You're lucky I'm kind enough to dry your clothes, mister."
I take the shirt, walk to the bathroom where we have our dryer—it's not a huge one, just a small machine big enough to handle a few light clothes at a time.
By the time I come back out, Zach's parked himself on the floor, back against Sam's bedframe, his long legs stretched out.
I hesitate, then sink onto my bed, tucking my legs under me.
The air feels...different. Heavy.
I don't even have to look up to know his eyes are on me. It makes the fine hairs at the back of my neck stand at attention, like my body hasn't figured out whether to run for cover or lean into it.
I try my best not to look fidgety, but it's impossible.
The silence between us is thick enough to choke on, and neither of us is making the slightest move to break it.
My eyes flick to the bathroom door, practically begging the dryer to hurry the hell up so Zach can grab his shirt and go.
"So, uh... how's Taylor?" The words slip out before I can stop them.
Perfect. Of all the things I could've asked, I just pickedTaylor Lewis.
Bravo, Care. Really nailed the self-sabotage today.
When I glance at Zach, his brows are lifted like I just caught him off guard. Guess he didn't expect me to bring up his former fake fuck buddy.
Former, right?
Or are they still doing their little "pretend we're a thing" act?
God, I want to ask, but no—nosy much? That's not my business.
"She's doing okay," he says finally, his voice softer than I expect. "As okay as she can be. We went to Campus Safety earlier to report what happened. The campus cops pulled the hallway footage from yesterday—caught her ex coming at her clear as day. Having that on record made it easier to back up her statement."
His mouth curves into a small, relieved smile.
"This time, they actually took her seriously, not like before when she tried reporting him. They helped her file for a restraining order, and the paperwork's already moving. They said he'll probably get served within three to five business days."
"That's... really good," I say, relief sneaking into my tone. "Hopefully once it's official, he'll back off and actually leave her alone."
"Yeah." Zach runs a hand over his damp hair. "The cops said if he tries anything after he's served, it's an automatic arrest. That seemed to calm her down a little."
"Well, that's something," I say, hugging my knees to my chest. "She deserves to live like a normal college student, not constantly watching her back."
"Exactly," he mutters, jaw tight. "Taylor's tough, but even she's been looking over her shoulder nonstop. At least this gives her some control back."
"I'm glad," I admit.
For a second, Zach just studies me, like he's not sure what to make of the fact that I even asked.
Another awkward silence stretches before Zach finally says, "So... uh, Taylor and I ended the whole arrangement thing we had." His eyes flick toward me, like he's trying to read the fine print on my face.
Lucky for me, my poker face is working overtime, even if my chest is begging him to keep talking.
When I don't say anything, he lets out a slow breath and tips his head back against Sam's bedframe.
"We talked earlier, when I drove her back to her apartment. I told her that ever since I saw you again, it feels like I've been handed this crazy, impossible second chance—like the kind of shot you don't waste twice. And I knew right then I couldn't continue our arrangement. Not if I wanted you to evenconsiderletting me back in."
He pauses, like he's choosing his words.
