Ayla
I hadn’t even finished processing Rhett’s words when my eyes landed on the one person I really didn’t want to see right now: Hana Nakamura.
She walked into the cafeteria with effortless grace, carrying a tray with a salad, a cappuccino, and that friendly smile that seemed to charm everyone in a ten-foot radius. Even the way she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear looked like something out of a luxury perfume commercial.
And for some reason, I kept watching. Maybe because her steps were headed straight toward River’s table. Of course River noticed her. He shifted in his seat, making room for her like a perfect gentleman.
They exchanged smiles, a few words, and then Hana laughed—soft and delicate, like the sound of crystal glasses clinking.
Something burned in my chest. I
