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I look up, actually the whole table looks up.

Mason is standing just inside the door, looking around to see if he can find a table, they’re all full this morning. Behind him, the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, Miles stands looking at his phone.

Under the table, Juno’s foot finds mine and presses down. Hard. I don’t look at her because the only person I want to look at is Miles.

Mason’s eyes land on our table, and with a smile he starts walking over to us. We have a few empty seats, so he’s looking to join us, and I’m hoping Miles sits next to me.

“Any chance…” he starts.

“Yes,” Juno says, so quickly that it makes Mason smile.

He pulls out a chair and sits down, looks over to the girl behind the counter and orders two coffees.

Miles takes the chair beside me, bringing a sudden rush of warmth. He smells incredible. Clean and warm, with something deeper underneath I can't quite place. As he leans in closer, the earthy, masculine scent completely envelops me. God, he smells like heaven.

This is what I think heaven would smell like, Miles Crawford.

The girl brings two coffees, and Miles thanks her, then gives her a wink. Why does that annoy me? He’s not mine, but he should be. He just doesn’t know it yet.

“I’m Mason,” Mason says.

“We know,” Juno says. “I’m Juno,” she says, full of confidence to Miles, “And you’re Miles Crawford.”

He looks up. “Yes.”

“We’ve heard about you…” Juno starts.

“Juno,” I say.

Something moves at the edge of Miles’s expression. He looks at me briefly, just for a second, just enough for me to feel it, and then he goes back to looking at his phone.

Mason, on the other hand, has already joined in with the table’s energy and matched it perfectly. He’s leaning forward on his elbows, coffee in hand, already in conversation with Maya about something I’ve missed the start of. Bree is watching Miles with the focused assessment of a person running calculations. Cara is doing what Cara does, which is knowing everything and saying very little.

“So,” Mason says to the table at large. “How long have you all been on campus?”

“Since September,” Juno says. “Same as everyone.”

“Some people arrive earlier,” he says. “We were here in August.”

“For what?” Cara asks.

“For various reasons,” he says with a smirk, meaning only one thing. He was here to have fun. “You’re on the gymnastics team do you compete this semester?”

“Regionals in three weeks,” Maya says.

“Are you ready?” Mason asks, and I glance over to Miles, who is still on his phone.

“Getting there,” I say. I don't really want them to know I’m working on the movements in my head every spare second I have.

Miles looks up at that. Not at the group, but at me specifically. “What event?”

“Floor and beam mainly,” I say. “Floor is the one I care about.”

“Why floor?”

“More room,” I say. “The beam needs precision. The floor is… it’s both. You have to be exact, and you have to make it look like you’re not.”

There’s a shift in his expression. It’s like I’ve said something that maps onto wht he already understood about me.