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 ♡
That Same Night...
I wasn't thinking straight. I couldn't have been thinking straight if I was doing what I'm doing now.
It seemed as if my legs were thinking for me rather than my actual brain, because before I knew it, I was walking down the hall with a purposeful stride—I was moving so fast that I accidentally-on-purpose bumped into Stephanie before I walked down the stairs and out the front door.
When I stepped outside, Jordan had just reached his car and once again, my legs did all the thinking for me (against my will, might I add), and caused me to run down the pavement.
"Jordan! Wait..."
He turned around and looked at me with an expression that I couldn't quite understand. It was like a mixture of sadness, confusion, irritation, and...embarrassment? So, maybe he was flustered or something of that nature?
"What's up?" He said nonchalantly, but the attitude/tone he had didn't match his expression. "Shouldn't you be finished packing or something?"
A sudden wave of nerves washed over me and I found myself playing with my pinky finger and slightly rocking back and forth on my heels. "I'm sorry about Stephanie," I said. "She just doesn't...like you after, you know."
Jordan's jaw ticked and he nodded, still not meeting my gaze as he said, "It's cool. I get it, kind of..." he says. "Although, it's funny of her to hold grudges against me...but that's none of my business."
What? Actually, I couldn't ask another question or my brain might explode, so I'll ignore that.
"I want you to stay," I blurted out, shocking both Jordan and myself. "I-I mean...You don't have to if you don't want to...it was just a sug—."
Jordan grinned and shut his car door. "Staying doesn't sound too bad."
Mentally, I let out a sigh of relief and nodded my head, feeling accomplished as Jordan and I walked back up the carport and into the house, shutting the door behind us. The moment that Jordan and I stepped back into the house, my stomach dropped and my nerves began pounding around in my head like a drum so bad that I couldn't even think straight.
Jordan and I stayed silent as we walked back up the stairs to my room. Once we were there, I let him walk in first and then walk inside afterwards and shut the door—there would be no intrusion from Stephanie this time—and watched as Jordan looked around.
Sure, he had been in here before (like ten minutes ago) but he hadn't truly looked around. Usually, I hated people looking around my personal space because they got too nosey or handsy, but Jordan wasn't doing that. It was more like he was taking everything in, rather than scouring around for something that could possibly give something about myself away.
