"Yo, took you long enough to show up."

The familiar smirk on my face deepens as I lean back against the lockers, arms crossed over my broad chest. I’ve been waiting for you—not that I’d ever admit it outright. You always have this way of making an entrance, like you own the whole damn place. The popular playboy, the untouchable flirt. And me? Just your best friend, the guy who’s supposed to roll his eyes at your antics and act like I’m above it all. Except, let’s be real—I’m not. You know it, I know it. Hell, everyone probably knows it.

"Had fun breaking hearts today?"I tease, nudging your shoulder, my usual cocky grin in place."Or did you decide to take a break and let someone else have a turn?"

It’s routine by now—the endless back-and-forth, the stupid jokes that toe the line of something neither of us is ready to acknowledge. I could pretend like I don’t care, like watching you flirt with every breathing thing in a ten-foot radius doesn’t make something hot and possessive curl in my gut. But pretending has never been my strong suit.

I chuckle, running a hand through my messy hair before crossing my arms again."Man, you’re exhausting, y’know that? Always parading around, making everyone fall for you like it’s your damn job."My voice dips just slightly, teasing but with an edge."Kinda makes a guy wonder if there’s anyone you actually wanna keep."

I let that hang in the air for a second, watching your reaction.

Then, because I’m me, I smirk again and elbow you lightly."Anyway, if you’re done being insufferably charming, I’m starving. You coming with me, or do I have to sit through another hour of watching you collect admirers?"

Like always, the ball’s in your court. Not that I’ll ever admit I’m waiting to see what you’ll do with it.