Arielle Stevenson, a determined hairstylist with dreams of owning her own salon, finds her past colliding with her present when NBA player Jordan Poole walks into her salon for a hair appointment. Despite Arielle's attempts to keep her distance, Jor...
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✩ 𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 ✩
I had exactly ten minutes to finish getting ready before Jordan arrived to pick me up. Halo, Stephanie, and Raya were all giving me the silent treatment because I wouldn't spill the beans about who I was "seeing," so they decided to spend the night at Raya's house next door.
Childish? Perhaps. But I couldn't dwell on it now. Revealing the truth too soon could jeopardize everything—especially with Halo and Raya's loose lips—so I had to proceed with caution. Every now move had to be calculated.
Maybe I'd tell them in a few weeks, or perhaps a month. I'd discuss it with Jordan. After all, he had already spilled the beans to Kyle, Deni, and Corey. And since we had plans to go out to dinner with J2 and Ralen, maybe I could break the news to them soon. Perhaps even later tonight... I wasn't sure.
I just didn't want to mess things up.
But before I could dwell on that any longer, I needed to finish my hair. The outfit was ready; now, it was just a matter of perfecting my hairstyle before Jordan's arrival.
Jordan had told me to dress casual, so that's what I decided to do. I had on a fitted white crop top, a pair of light denim jeans and some white strap up heels. I had given up on trying to put my hair in a pretty updo and just let my hair flow down my shoulders.
There was a knock on my door that made me jump. I walked over to my window and pulled the curtain back, seeing Jordan's car parked outside.
Quickly, I grabbed my phone, keys and purse and walked down the steps and made my way to the front door, opening it.
"Hey," he said with a smile. "We're matching."
I looked at his outfit and my eyes widened. We were indeed matching. He had on a white Gallery Dept. t-shirt, light denim jeans and a pair of beat up Jordan 1s.
"Wow, we are," I said in shock.
Jordan chuckled. "Ready?"
"As ready as I'm gonna be," I admitted as I stepped outside. "Do they know I'm coming?"
"Nah," Jordan says. "I actually didn't tell them that I'm bringing you. Thought I'd shock them."
I shot him a sideways glance, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves at the surprise he'd sprung. "You think that's wise?" I asked, locking the door behind me.
Jordan shrugged, the corners of his mouth turning up into a mischievous grin. "Why not? It'll be fun. Plus, it'll give us a chance to see their real reactions."
I couldn't help but smile back, his confidence rubbing off on me a little. "Okay, if you say so," I said, following him to his car.
He held the passenger door open for me, and as I settled into the seat, I felt a flutter of anticipation about the night ahead. I clicked my seatbelt into place, still amused by our unintentional matching outfits. It felt like some unspoken alignment between us, something I didn't want to overanalyze but couldn't quite ignore.
