The Collision
Her messy brown hair was tied up in a loose bun, and she gave me a bright, curious smile.
“You must be Jace,” she said, stepping aside. “Come in. Ariana’s at her desk pretending she’s not nervous.”
I stepped inside, my eyes finding Ariana right away. She was sitting at a small desk by the window, laptop open, notebook beside her. She wore a simple gray sweater, hair pulled back, but something about the focused way she sat there made my chest feel tight.
“Hey,” I said softly.
She turned in her chair, her expressive eyes meeting mine. “Hey. Thanks for coming.”