Chapter 5

If awkwardness were an Olympic sport, this table wasn't just winning gold—they were setting a new world record.

Julian was the first to crack under the weight of the tension. "Damn, it's suffocating in here," he said loudly enough for everyone at the table to hear. Then, lowering his voice just a touch, he added with that effortlessly smooth tone, "Think I'll get some air."

His eyes flicked toward Sloane, catching hers in a way that made her heart skip before he asked, "Wanna come with me?"

Every girl at the table practically vibrated in silent shrieks. Sloane could feel their collective blushes merging with her own. She nodded, trying to play it off casual.

"Yeah... I could use some air too."

"Alright, let's go," Julian said easily, standing up and offering his hand to help her out of the booth. He gave the group a small nod—half polite, half smug—and led the way out.

Sloane only managed a quick glance back at her friends. Lynn's mouth hung open, Laura looked seconds away from combusting, and Oliver... Oliver's expression was unreadable, a storm cloud behind his calm face. He'd always been a little territorial, but this? This was new. She almost laughed—finally, someone cooler and more handsome than him had entered the picture.

Outside, the air was warm and sweet with pine. The tavern's porch stretched out in weathered wooden boards that creaked softly underfoot. A string of old bulbs cast a golden haze over the railing, and beyond that, the forest was a mess of shadows and soft glows from fireflies drifting lazily between the trees.

They walked along the porch until they stopped near a pillar, up to that moment she hadn't realized that they were still holding hands, then she let go of his hand softly, and didn't meet any resistance. Sloane leaned against it, watching the faint shimmer of the dirt road that passed for a "highway" in these parts. The night buzzed quietly, the smell of grass and smoke from someone's distant bonfire hanging in the air.

Julian sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling something out. Sloane caught a flash of white and narrow—oh, no way. Her mind jumped immediately to the worst conclusion.

"Wait—are you seriously about to smoke right now?" she blurted, voice sharp and disbelieving. "You're an athlete. That's literally a sin!"

Julian frowned, confused for half a second before pulling out... a cherry lollipop.

"What?" he said with a crooked grin, peeling off the wrapper. "I was craving something sweet."

He popped it into his mouth with a loud, playful pop.

Sloane blinked. Then blushed hard.

Oh god. She hadn't realized she was staring—at his mouth, no less—and now her brain was spiraling, zeroing in on how the candy stick looked between his lips, or how his silver loop piercings glinted when he shifted it.

Great. Fantastic. She officially needed to be lobotomized.

"Right. Of course," she muttered, crossing her arms and trying to look unapologetically unimpressed. "A lollipop."

Julian just smirked around the candy, leaning beside her against the pillar, close but not touching. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable exactly, but it was the kind that made her hyper-aware of how her heartbeat sounded louder than the crickets.

They stood there like that for a while, both pretending to admire the dark woods.

Julian rolled the lollipop between his teeth, the red candy catching the porch light like a little ember.

He shifted his weight against the wooden post, twirling the lollipop stick between his fingers. "Well," he started, tone light but his eyes curious, "I'm glad I finally got to meet you properly."

"Huh?" Sloane blinked, caught off guard.

"You look really good tonight," Julian said easily. "I barely recognized you."

Sloane frowned. "What?"

She was about to demand what that was supposed to mean—but then it dawned on her. The outfit. The makeup. Right. She looked 'good' tonight.

She actually looked different tonight. Her mind flicked back to the day they met: black yoga pants, an oversized hoodie, hair half-falling out of a claw clip. At least she'd showered that morning, she thought grimly.

Sloane never really saw the point of getting dressed up for school—or for any casual thing, really. She was just going to sweat through training anyway. Looking good for five minutes only to ruin it later felt vain and pointless.

She'd once assumed college would change that mindset—but it didn't. If anything, it made it worse. Half the girls showed up to class in sweatpants or pajamas, which only validated her habit of staying comfortably disheveled.

"Oh, yeah about that, don't get used to this view, I was literally forced to wear this tonight." She replied sarcastically as she gestured to her torso.

Julian chuckled, low and easy. "I was actually excited to finally meet the bagel weirdo up close."