Chapter 4

Uriah, calm as ever but clearly entertained, lifted his drink. "Sooo... you two know each other?"

Julian opened his mouth to answer, but Sloane beat him to it—far too quickly.

"We just met last week!" she blurted, too loud, too fast. "Like barely!"

The air tightened.

Julian looked down at her, one eyebrow arching, that infuriating grin tugging at his lips again—slow, knowing, playful. The kind of smile that said he was enjoying every second of her unraveling.

And Sloane, against all logic, felt a flicker of something.

From this angle, Sloane noticed something she hadn't before—Julian had blue eyes and snakebite piercings. Two little silver rings glinting on his lower lip. Oh. Okay. That was... unexpectedly distracting. And unfairly hot.

"Yeah, we're friends," Julian said, casual as ever.

"Maybe!" Sloane cut in, turning toward the others with an awkward laugh.

"Maybe?" He looked at her, amused, that stupid half-smile tugging at his lips.

"We just met!"

"Valid," he said with a small nod, that grin of his still firmly in place.

Laura cleared her throat loudly, eyebrows arching in pure betrayal. The look she shot Sloane basically screamed, 'Excuse me, how did this happen, and why am I only hearing about it now?'

"So," she said sweetly, "how exactly did you two meet, then?"

"She threw a bagel at my head,"

"I gave him his book back."

Julian said at the same time Sloane blurted.

They froze. Then laughter. Julian bit his lip to hold back a chuckle, which—unfortunately—did things to Sloane's composure that she was absolutely not ready to unpack. She decided to pretend it didn't happen for the sake of national security.

"At least get your story straight," Lynn teased through her laughter.

Sloane gently scooted away from Julian's arm and leaned forward to explain, though he didn't seem to mind her moving. He stayed leaning back, relaxed, his arm now draped across the back of the booth.

"What happened," Sloane started, trying to sound composed, "was that I saw Julian in the hallway outside the admin office, and I noticed he dropped a book from his backpack. So I just tried to give it back."

Julian laughed—a low, warm sound—and leaned sideways to catch her eyes. "And the best way to get my attention was to throw a bagel at my head?"

Sloane lifted a shoulder, feigning innocence. "I called for you first! It was either that or a three-hundred-page textbook. I went with the merciful option."

By then, Uriah was practically crying from laughter, slapping the table between gasps. The rest of the group followed suit, laughter bubbling up until the awkward tension dissolved into something that almost felt at ease again.

"I would never throw my breakfast at a guy, no man is worth my hunger." added Lynn to which she gained the howling laughter of the table.

Still, Sloane couldn't ignore the way Julian's smirk lingered, slow and knowing, his gaze catching hers just long enough to set her heartbeat skittering. There was a kind of quiet challenge in his eyes—like he knew exactly how flustered she was and was choosing, with annoying precision, not to call her out on it.

"Alright, what's all the noise about?"

Oliver's voice cut through the laughter like a record scratch.

His tone was easy, teasing even, but it hit the group like a pop balloon. He was smiling—he was always smiling—but Sloane recognized that little tilt in his grin, the one that didn't quite reach his eyes.

He approached the booth with his hands shoved in his pockets, casual and effortless in that classic Oliver way. The light caught on his hair just so, that golden-boy glow that had once made her stomach flip. Now it just made her wish the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

As if she was caught doing something she wasn't supposed to, unreasonable though they were, in his words, only and forever best friends.

"Hey, man!" Uriah greeted, clueless to the tension crawling into the air. "Come meet Julian—he's the new guy on the team!"

Julian turned his head, slow and deliberate, that same calm confidence dripping from every move. "So this is the famous King I keep hearing about," he said, voice smooth and playful, though the smirk that came with it had a bite.

A joke—technically, since that was Oliver's last name. But the delivery, clearly a challenge.

Was Julian after the 'King' of the track title? That would be no surprise.

Oliver's grin faltered just for a second—so quick anyone else would've missed it. But Sloane saw it. It dawned on her that Julian and Oliver were in the same category in almost all races, therefore they were rivals.

"Guess that'd be me," Oliver replied with a practiced nod, not bothering to extend a hand.

And there it was—the tension again. The kind of silence that made even the air feel heavier.

Julian didn't flinch. He simply leaned back, one arm draped lazily along the booth, his body language screaming comfort. And then, almost as if on cue, his arm slipped around Sloane's shoulders once more—an easy, thoughtless motion. Except it wasn't thoughtless.

His fingers brushed against her bare skin, warm and steady, and Sloane swore her pulse jumped straight into her throat. She didn't move. Couldn't. Or maybe... she didn't want to.

And because apparently her brain had clocked out, she leaned into him. Just slightly. Just enough for her hair to brush his chest, soft and deliberate.

It wasn't even a second before she realized what she'd done, but by then, it was too late. Her mind screamed what the hell was that, Sloane?! What game are you playing?

A test. It had been a test. For Oliver.

And she hated that.

She was over him. She was.

Still, she caught the flicker in Oliver's expression—the faint jaw twitch, the narrowing of his eyes, the practiced smile tightening like it was holding something back.

Laura bit her lip to hide a grin. Lynn tried to take a sip of her drink and nearly choked. Uriah looked like he was seriously considering diving into his fries just to escape the moment.

Sloane, meanwhile, forced a casual smile, pretending not to notice the heat radiating from Julian beside her... or the daggers Oliver was quietly glaring across the table.