Killian hadn’t planned on stopping by the coffee shop.

  He had a routine—gym, class, a few minutes of socializing before heading back to his dorm. But today, something pulled him off course. Maybe it was the restless energy he couldn’t shake, or maybe it was the need to do something instead of overthinking Anastasia’s strange avoidance.

  The café was packed with students, the scent of roasted coffee beans hanging in the air. He barely glanced at the crowd as he stepped inside, heading straight for the counter.

  And then—he saw her.

  Anastasia.

  She was seated near the window, a cup of coffee in front of her, her posture relaxed in a way it never was in class. There was no notebook in her hands, no hint of distraction.

  And she wasn’t alone.

  Across from her sat Sebastian Thorne.

  Killian’s jaw tightened.

  Sebastian was practically his equal—if there was such a thing. Tall, confident, sharp-featured. A senior who carried himself with the kind of effortless charm that made people gravitate toward him. They weren’t friends, but they weren’t enemies either. There was no rivalry—just an unspoken understanding that they existed in the same sphere.

  Which begged the question: What the hell was he doing with Anastasia?

  Killian watched as Sebastian said something that made Anastasia huff out a quiet laugh, her lips curling at the edges. It wasn’t the forced politeness she gave to others. It was real.

  Killian’s grip on his phone tightened.

  She never looked at him like that.

  She never even gave him the chance.

  The barista called out his order, but he didn’t move. He just stood there, staring, watching as Anastasia tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable yet at ease.

  Killian had spent weeks trying to get her attention, to figure her out, to understand why she didn’t care about him the way everyone else did. And yet, here she was, sitting across from Sebastian Thorne, looking like she belonged there.

  Something twisted in his chest.

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  He didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  Killian wasn’t the type to overthink his next move.

  So when he grabbed his coffee and made his way toward the seating area, he told himself it was just coincidence that the only open seat happened to be at the table next to theirs.

  Total accident.

  Or at least, that’s what he wanted it to look like.

  Sliding into the chair, he stretched out lazily, setting his cup down with just enough force to make a soft thud—not loud enough to be obnoxious, but noticeable enough.

  And sure enough, Anastasia’s head turned slightly, her mismatched colored eyes flicking toward him in recognition.

  Finally.

  But instead of reacting—finally giving him something to work with—she just blinked once, then returned her attention to Sebastian as if Killian weren’t even there.

  That irked him more than it should have.

  Sebastian, however, did notice. A slow smirk spread across his face as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping over Killian with amusement. "Well, well. Lancaster. Didn’t expect to see you here."

  "Yeah?" Killian took a slow sip of his coffee, giving a casual shrug. "Didn’t expect to see you here either."

  Sebastian chuckled. "Guess we both have good taste."

  Killian’s jaw ticked. The guy had a way of making every sentence feel like it had a second, hidden meaning. He wasn’t sure if he was talking about the coffee shop—or Anastasia.

  Anastasia, for her part, didn’t seem interested in whatever game was unfolding between them. She took a sip of her drink, completely unfazed. "If you’re both going to puff your chests and circle each other, let me know so I can leave."

  Sebastian laughed. "Relax, Anya. Just a friendly conversation."

  Killian tilted his head, eyes settling on her, Anya? A pet name? That irked Killian even more. "Yeah, Anastasia. Relax."

  Finally, finally, she looked directly at him.

  And her expression? Completely unreadable. No irritation. No amusement. No interest. Just a calm, steady look, as if she were merely acknowledging an object in the room. And somehow, that was worse than being ignored.

  He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbow on the table. "Didn’t know you and Thorne were friends."

  Anastasia didn’t answer right away. She glanced at Sebastian, as if debating whether or not she even needed to explain herself. Then, after a moment, she said simply, "We talk sometimes."

  Sebastian grinned. "You jealous, Lancaster?"

  Killian let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Of you? Please."

  But the way his fingers curled slightly against his cup told a different story.

  Anastasia sighed, pushing her chair back. "Right. And on that note, I think I’m done here. See you later, Seb."

  Just like that, she stood, grabbing her bag. Not a single glance at Killian. No parting remark. Just a quiet, effortless exit—like she had already decided this wasn’t worth her time.

  Sebastian watched her go, his smirk never fading. He picked up his coffee and took a sip. "Y'know," he mused, glancing at Killian, "...she’s really good at slipping away, huh?"

  Killian didn’t answer.