The lottery kid who'd somehow beaten Blair's elite squad. The nobody who'd caught Vale's personal attention. The student whose rapid improvement raised questions that led to uncomfortable answers.
Misato pulled on fresh clothes, her uniform crisp and professional. The lime green tie felt like armor against the day ahead. In the mirror, she looked like what she was supposed to be. Competent squad captain. Reliable instructor. Someone who had everything under control.
The reflection lied with perfect confidence.
Her phone buzzed. Jace: "Survived Vale's warm-up. Actual training was attempted murder. Coffee in 20?"
She typed back quickly: "I'll bring the good stuff. You'll need it."
Twenty minutes to figure out how to act normal around him. How to pretend that holding him last night hadn't felt like coming home after years of being lost. How to ignore the way her pulse jumped whenever she thought about his arms around her.
