Chapter 7 Dirty Laundry
- Aella
- He’s here. The guy from the café, standing in front of a dryer and pulling out a T-shirt. Our eyes meet, and the world seems to halt, all sounds muffled, all thoughts obliterated by the shock of the moment.
- “Evening, beautiful,” he says in that rough drawl, shooting me a wink. “Fancy meeting you here.”