Worlds Collide

The rain had been falling since morning. First soft, then steady. By the time Sharon Miller had gotten to faculty for her economics class, her sneakers were soaked. Each step made a squish sound she hated. Her hoodie clung to her arms, too thin to keep her dry.

She pulled the hood tighter over her head. Everyone else seemed fine. Students in nice coats hurried past, carrying umbrellas and leather bags. Sharon hugged her old notebooks to her chest and kept walking, trying to ignore the cold.

Her head was too full to notice much. Homework. Rent. Her next shift at the diner. The balance in her bank account that wasn't stretching far enough. So when she ran straight into someone at the corner, she almost fell.Her books hit the ground. Papers spread across the wet pavement.

"Watch it!" she snapped, dropping down fast to save her notes from the rain.

"Sorry-my fault."

The voice was deep but smooth. Calm, almost playful.

Sharon looked up quickly, ready to glare. But she froze. The guy was tall. Broad shoulders. Dark hair slicked back with rain. But what stopped her were his eyes-green, sharp, like they saw straight through her. He had the kind of face that made people stare, and the kind of smile that looked like he used it often.

Jake Lawson.

She knew the name. Everyone did. Son of a billionaire. Rich, spoiled, untouchable. People whispered about him in hallways-his cars, his money, the parties. The type of boy who lived in a world she would never belong to.

"Here," Jake said, picking up one of her notebooks. His fingers brushed hers as he passed it back. His hand was warm, even in the cold rain.

Sharon yanked the book from him. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." His grin widened.

"If we keep crashing into each other like this, people will think it's fate."

She raised an eyebrow. "This is the first time."

"Once is all it takes."

She hugged her books close, frowning.

"Save your lines for someone else." But Jake didn't leave. He fell into step beside her like he'd been invited.

"You don't believe in fate?" he asked.

"I believe in deadlines. And right now, you're making me late."

"Then I'll walk faster."

Sharon pressed her lips together to stop a smile. Don't let him get to you.

By the time they reached the lecture hall, her shoes were heavy with water. She found a middle seat, unpacked her notebook and pen.

The chair beside her scraped back.

She glanced over. Of course-it was him. Jake Lawson, sitting like he belonged there.

"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered.

"What?" he asked, pretending innocence. "Seat was empty."

"There are twenty other empty seats."

"None of them are next to you."

She shot him a glare. He only leaned back, relaxed, no notebook open.

The lecture started. Professor Alvarez droned on about supply and demand. Sharon bent over her notes, scribbling fast. She never wasted class time. She couldn't afford to.

Jake didn't even pretend to pay attention. Halfway through, he leaned toward her.

"So," he whispered, "supply curve. Why does it slope up again?"

She turned sharply. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Because when the price goes up, producers want to make more. More money, more supply."

Jake grinned. "So basically greed?"

"Motivation," she whispered back. "Efficiency. Call it whatever you want."

"I like how you explain things."

"Good. Now stop talking."

He chuckled. "Admit it-you'd miss me if I wasn't here."

She shook her head, writing harder. "I'd throw a party."

Jake Lawson wasn't used to being ignored.

Most girls on campus wanted his attention. They laughed at his jokes, tried to sit near him, smiled too wide when he looked their way.

But Sharon Miller? She scowled. She cut him off. She acted like he was an annoyance instead of the son of one of the richest men in the country.

And that made him curious.

More curious than he should be.

When class ended, Sharon packed up quickly and tried to escape. Jake followed.

"You walk fast," he said, jogging a little.

"Maybe you walk too slow."

"I was trying to be polite."

"You were chasing me."

"Fair point."

Sharon groaned. "You really don't take no for an answer, do you?"

"Not when I think it's the wrong answer."

"That's not how life works."

"Sometimes it is," he said, grinning. "Sometimes no just means try harder."

She stopped walking, turning on him sharply.

"Listen. If this is about some bored rich kid wanting to flirt with the scholarship girl for fun-forget it. I don't have time for games."

Jake blinked, caught off guard. His grin slipped.

"Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"What else would it be?"

He hesitated, voice quieter now. "Because you don't look at me like they do."

Sharon frowned. "Like who?"

"Everyone." His eyes held hers. "Most people see my name first. My money. What they can get from me. You don't. You couldn't care less that I'm Jake Lawson. And I like that."

Something in his tone unsettled her. It didn't sound like a line. But she wasn't about to let him see that.

"Maybe I just don't like you," she muttered.

His smile returned, softer this time. "Then that's still better than fake adoration."

The rain had slowed to a drizzle. They walked across campus, side by side. Sharon wished he'd leave, but he kept up easily.

"You're persistent," she muttered.

"Determined," he said.

"Annoying."

"Charming."

She sighed. "Unbelievable."

"Closer," he said with a grin.

She quickened her pace, but he matched it.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" she asked.

"Yeah. Here."

"You don't even know me."

"Then tell me something."

"I don't tell strangers personal things."

"Then tell me something impersonal."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. I hate the rain."

Jake tilted his head. "I like it."

"Figures."

"It makes everything fresh. Clean. Like a reset."

Sharon shook her head. "It makes everything wet and miserable."

He smirked. "Maybe you just need the right perspective."

"Or maybe you've never had to walk across campus in cheap sneakers that soak through in five seconds."

Jake glanced down at her shoes, then at his own leather boots. For a moment, his smile faded.

"Point taken," he said quietly.

When they reached the library steps, Sharon stopped.

"This is where I lose you," she said firmly.

Jake looked up at the stone building, then back at her. "You really want me gone?"

"Yes."

He studied her for a moment, then gave a small smile. "Okay. For now."

Sharon narrowed her eyes. "For now?"

"Yeah. Because you'll see me again."

She crossed her arms. "Confident, aren't you?"

"Hopeful."

She shook her head and started up the steps. But just as she reached the door, a sound caught her attention.

A deep, expensive engine.

Sharon turned. A black Rolls-Royce pulled up to the curb. Its tinted window slid down. Inside sat a man in a dark suit. His eyes were cold and sharp.

"Mr. Lawson," the man said. His voice was flat, but carried weight. "Your father wants a word."

Sharon froze, her stomach twisting.

Jake's jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists at his sides.

For a moment, she thought he might refuse. But then the car door opened.

Jake gave her one last look. His eyes held hers-something unspoken, something almost warning.

"I'll see you later," he said quietly.

And then he slid into the car.

The Rolls-Royce pulled away, smooth and silent, leaving Sharon standing in the drizzle.

She clutched her books tighter. Her heart raced.

Who exactly was Jake Lawson... and what had she just gotten herself tangled up in?