Not Yours

Chapter One

"Wrong Cup"

 ~

The coffee shop was too loud.

Not in an overwhelming way—just enough chatter, espresso machines hissing, milk steaming, chairs scraping against the hardwood floor—that it blurred into background noise. Most people found it comforting.

Ivy Reynolds did not.

She stood in line, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, eyes flicking up to the clock mounted above the menu.

8:43 a.m.

Twelve minutes. That was all she had to get her drink, cross campus, and make it to her education lecture before attendance closed.

Again.

She exhaled slowly through her nose, fingers tightening around the strap of her tote bag. Her planner lay open inside, color-coded and crammed to the edges with assignments, deadlines, and reminders. Every minute of her day had a purpose. Every. Single. Minute.

Except this line.

"Next!"

Finally.

Ivy stepped forward. "Hi—uh, iced vanilla latte, oat milk. Light ice." Her voice was precise, clipped, like she had already rehearsed this a thousand times in her head.

The barista nodded like she'd heard it a thousand times—which she probably had—and tapped it into the system.

Ivy paid, her fingers brushing over the cool surface of the counter, and stepped aside, checking the time again.

8:45.

Cutting it close.

Across the shop, at a small table tucked near the window, two guys were lost in their own world.

"No, I'm serious," Will said, leaning back in his chair, eyes scanning the room like it was a live show just for him. "That guy has been pretending to do work on that laptop for ten minutes. Ten minutes! And he hasn't even typed a single word."

Macklin didn't even glance up from his drink, just scrolls through his phone. "You've been watching him for ten minutes?"

"It's called observing," Will corrected, elbows propped on the table. "I'm a student of human behavior."

"You don't even go to school."

"Not relevant," Will countered.

Macklin snorted quietly, finally glancing up. "You're weird."

Will grinned, completely unbothered. "And yet, you choose to spend your mornings with me."

"That's because if I don't, you text me things like, 'I think I just saw a guy propose at a pastry case,' and I need to verify if you're lying."

"I would never lie about something like that."

"You absolutely would, don't lie."

Will opened his mouth to argue, but Macklin leaned back, still scrolling through his phone, clearly ignoring him. "Honestly, man... do we even feel like practice today?"

Will froze, frowning at the thought. "You're saying we could... skip?"

Macklin shrugged. "I'm just saying... the ice is cold, the rink smells like old sweat, and Warso is gonna yell at us anyway. I'd rather sit here and people-watch."