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to have been at Juniper's half an hour ago but Lexie was clinging to his leg and he couldn't peel her off for long enough to get out of the front door.

"Please, Oli!" she wailed, planting herself firmly down on his shoe so he'd have to quite literally shake her off if he wanted to be freed. His little sister felt as pesky and inconvenient as a fly, especially right now, but he had to draw the line at shaking her off like one. He didn't think his parents would be pleased. "Please let me come! Pleaaaaaaase!"

"No," Oliver said firmly, for what had to be the millionth time. "I've already told you, Lexie, no."

Lexie only clung to him tighter. "Pretty please, with a cherry on top, and lots of icing, and sprinkles – "

Oliver gritted his teeth and picked her up in one swift motion, considering she was about as heavy as a bag of feathers. Lexie smiled, thinking this was concession, but Oliver just wanted her to see his face properly so she would know he wasn't about to budge. "I'm meeting my friends," Oliver told her. "All my friends who are bigger and older than you. They don't want you there."

A little twist of the truth, considering it was Oliver who didn't want his annoying sister getting in the way, but he was sure they'd all be in agreement that a six-year-old the last thing anyone wanted to deal with.

Lexie pulled a face at him. "But I want to be there."

"Well, tough. If you go play with your dolls, I promise I'll bring you a cupcake back. Just like the one you had last time."

Lexie looked conflicted between continuing to kick up a fuss and getting a cupcake (Oliver had tried to explain a few more times that it had been a muffin before giving up and letting his sister have her way, as usual) for listening to him, before settling on the former. She squirmed and squealed and Oliver knew the waterworks were coming soon, not that he'd be swayed by that. He might have sounded heartless but Lexie used her tears to get anything she wanted and he'd grown immune to their effect when he saw them pretty much every day. He set her back down and pulled his jacket on, ignoring her when she dove forward to hug his legs again with loud wailing. Lexie was too old to be throwing tantrums like this, in his opinion, but it didn't matter if he let her scream them out. His parents were still too soft and coddling on her.

Right on cue, his mum appeared at the top of the stairs to investigate what all the racket was about. "What on earth is going on here?"

"Oli won't let me play with him and his friends!" Lexie exclaimed.

His mum frowned at him. "Oliver?"

"Seriously, mum? I'm not taking her with me when I'm going to hang out with my friends," Oliver sighed, plucking Lexie off him once again and setting her off to one side. He pressed his index finger against her forehead in a surprisingly effective technique to keep her from barrelling right back at him and found some entertainment in watching her struggle to get around it. "That's just weird and I'm not on babysitting duty, anyway. She has no reason to come."

"Nonsense. Reed always loved Lexie."

"Yeah, when she was a baby who couldn't speak," Oliver said. "Not when she's dipping her sticky fingers in his drink."

"My fingers are not sticky," Lexie retorted, with a surprising amount of indignation for such a small body. "They are perfectly clean and washed." She stretched her arms up, as if to shove them in his face, as if she even cleared his waist in height. "See?"

"I stand corrected," Oliver said, just about managing to refrain from rolling his eyes. "Mum? Can you deal with her?"

"Actually, I was just coming to ask you a favour," his mum began, and Oliver groaned, because he knew exactly where this was going. "Your dad took the car for repairs and I just got called in to the office, something fell through on the sales pitch, so I need you to watch over Lexie. Just for a couple of hours," she added, when he opened his mouth to protest. "You're going to Juniper's? Just buy her a drink or snack and she'll be good, I'm sure. Right, Lex?"

Lexie beamed, all fluffy blonde curls and cherubic cheeks. "Of course!"

"I don't have a choice, do I?" Oliver grumbled.

"Sorry, love, but someone needs to watch her," his mum said apologetically. "I'll make it up to you later and come pick her up when I'm finished at the office, okay? Let me know when you leave so I know whether I need to come."

Which was how Oliver ended up making the walk to Juniper's with Lexie skipping along at his side, clutching his hand resolutely with her small fingers and humming a tune from one of her cartoons on TV. Oliver had considered skipping out on going out at all – Lexie could be a handful at the best of times and he didn't want to have to be constantly worrying about making sure she hadn't wandered out into the road – but his curiosity had won out in the end. Apparently, according to Charlie's enthusiastic and countless texts, there was something he had to see. So he'd bundled Lexie up in her coat to ward off the early October chill, warned that he wouldn't buy her any cupcakes if she wasn't on her best behaviour, and set off.

He saw what had changed the moment he walked into the warm café. Bailey had been working at Juniper's since Oliver had returned, serving customers and whipping up drinks, but it was none other than Reed who had donned the black apron behind the counter today. Oliver's heart did the usual little skip he'd grown accustomed to just at the sight of him and he ignored his body's traitorous reaction, which had also become a habit. Harder to ignore would be the picking up of his pulse and prickling of his palms when Reed looked at him, or smiled at him, or did anything even remotely...well, remotely him. It was slowly growing from an inconvenience to a genuine issue but he tamped down those concerns to mull over another time and headed to the counter. Reed appeared to be wrestling with the cash register, muttering some choice unkind words towards it under his breath, but he glanced up at Oliver's approach.

"Does the cash register really deserve that abuse?" Oliver asked, amused.

"It's a piece of shit. I'm this close to chucking it through the window. So," Reed said, abandoning the cash register to sweep an expansive gesture to the large board with an array of drinks on display, "pick your poison. And if you even think about saying some long fucking complicated drink, like a venti iced skinny hazelnut macchiato with sugar-free syrup and light ice, no whip, I will throw this cash register at your head."

"To avoid being taken out by a cash register, I'll just have a cappuccino," Oliver said, suppressing a smile at the frustration written across Reed's face as he punched the order in. Considering how easily irritable Reed was, Oliver couldn't imagine a worse job than being a barista for him. Difficult customers and complex drinks were a recipe for disaster. "Did someone seriously order that venti iced whatever?"

"The woman before you. I lost braincells making it."

Oliver folded his arms across the counter and watched Reed make his drink. "Since when did you work here?"

"Since I quit last week," a voice chipped in, and Oliver glanced over to see Bailey had joined them. He saw the others, Adam and Clair and Charlie, at a table further back in the café. "My dad needed help with his restaurant so I'm doing all my part-time shifts there now. Laura, the manager, was happy to let me go without notice because I gave her someone to replace me."

"But you already have a job," Oliver said, frowning at Reed.

"I had two jobs," Reed corrected, pushing a couple of buttons and watching as hot milk jetted out into the cup. "Now I have three. I have to keep up with the expensive Woodway lifestyle somehow, don't I?"

Oliver knew Reed did dog-walking and tutoring on the side, to earn a little extra money. It had never bothered Oliver in the slightest, but he knew it was a touchy subject for Reed, how his family was nowhere as well off as the other private school kids attending Woodway and he could only get into the school on a swimming scholarship. A swimming scholarship he had only applied for because of Oliver. They'd met at their local swim club and when high school came around, they were desperate to attend the same one. The only problem was that Oliver's parents were adamant he go to Woodway to "get the best future possible" and Reed's parents simply couldn't afford the tuition. The two boys had found the scholarship themselves, sneaking into Oliver's study room to use his dad's expensive Mac, scrounging the website until they saw a possible opportunity to get Reed into the school.

It was a sad irony that for the majority of their high school years, Oliver hadn't even attended the school Reed worked so hard to get into.

Lexie, whose attention had been captured by the large glass case filled with sweet treats and had gone unnoticed by the other two, decided she'd grown bored of staying quiet. "Hello," she said, so loudly than a couple of customers from nearby tables glanced over. She flicked her green eyes between Bailey and Reed curiously. "Are you Oli's friends? He's my friend, too, but you're his bigger friends and you're all bigger than me, especially you – " she pointed at Reed, who blinked in bemusement, before turning her finger on Bailey " – and I know you! You're the girl that let us keep the cupcake last time!"

"Hi," Bailey smiled. "Lexie, wasn't it? Nice to see you again. I'm Bailey."

Oliver caught Lexie's hand and pushed it down before she started jabbing her fingers at strangers. "It's not nice to point at people like that, Lex. Sorry about her," he said, with an apologetic look. "My parents were busy so I'm stuck looking after her."

The irritation in Reed's eyes faded away as he met Lexie's wide-eyed staring with a considering one of his own. "She's so big now," he said.

"I am," she said proudly. "I've never seen you before. Are you a new friend?"

"This is Reed," Oliver told her. "He knew you when you were a baby."

Lexie accepted this without question and continued the outright staring that only children could get away with. "Is that your real hair?" she wondered.

"Lexie," Oliver groaned.

"Yes," Reed replied, his lips quirking up into a smile. Predictably, on cue, Oliver's heart started beating a little faster at the sight of it but no one was paying him any attention. He was grateful for Lexie's presence for once because she was stealing all the attention. "I've had this hair my whole life."

"But it's so pale," she said, her mouth forming an o shape. "It's almost white. How can you have white hair?"

"It's blonde, Lexie," Oliver said. "Same as your hair."

"No, my hair is yellow, just like that woman over there – " she started to point but Oliver stopped her in time, " – and like the man at that table. But Reed's isn't actually yellow, it's white. Also, what kind of name is Reed, anyway? I've never heard it – "

"Okay," Oliver interjected, before she could start grilling about him about the colour of his eyes and where he lived. "That's enough of that. Look, Adam's sitting over there – you remember Adam, he picks me up in the morning in his car – go and sit with Adam for a bit."

Lexie pouted. "But I wanna – "

"I'll buy you a chocolate cupcake if you go over there," Oliver promised her, knowing she could never resist the bribe of something sweet. "But only if you go over there and don't ask any difficult questions."

"Okay! What are difficult questions?" Lexie's eyes widened. "Was that a difficult question?"

Oliver heard Reed snicker behind him and Bailey looked like she was trying to suppress her own laughter. "Just don't ask any questions," Oliver suggested, with an air of defeat, and Lexie nodded happily before skipping over to where Adam and the others were sat. Oliver watched she actually made it to the table instead of veering off to chat to strangers before turning back to Bailey and Reed.

"She's adorable," Bailey said.

"A handful, you mean," Oliver said, shaking his head. "You know she's never once asked me about my eyes? She has to be the only kid I've ever met who hasn't asked why my eyes don't match and it certainly isn't out of politeness. She just doesn't think there's anything strange about them yet can't believe there are different shades of blonde hair."

Reed handed over his cappuccino and Oliver don't know why he did it, more on a whim than anything – he reached out for the cup before Reed let go, knowing he hadn't let go yet, and let their fingers touch for longer than necessary. He felt the spark of heat jolt up his fingers, but more interestingly, he knew Reed felt it too from how quickly he yanked his hand back. Oliver lifted his gaze to Reed's face but he had already turned away, his attention on the coffee machine and his back turned away from Oliver. That Reed had felt it too left him with conflicting emotions. On one hand, it wasn't entirely one-sided and whatever they'd left untouched yet not unforgotten from that night five years ago still lingered between them.

On the other hand, that thing between them was essentially what made their friendship fall apart and Oliver had vowed he'd let it go. He'd told himself he'd ignore whatever feelings he had, no matter how strong they were, and yet here he was playing with fire. With someone as volatile as Reed, no less. Oliver couldn't deny he had wanted to touch Reed. He had wanted to touch him, even if it was a brief brush of their fingers, and he had given into temptation. It was like a drug – no, Reed was like a drug. Now that he'd had a taste he only wanted more.

"Little kid logic," Bailey said, oblivious to the strange tension in the air, and it took Oliver a moment to realise she was talking about Lexie's selective curiosity. She didn't seem to have noticed anything – she was looking over at where Lexie had the table's full attention as she chattered happily with a small smile. "I guess she doesn't think there is anything out of place about your eyes, because she grew up with them, but she's never seen platinum blonde hair before."

Oliver swallowed around his sudden guilt and said, "Yeah, that makes sense." Here he was, having inappropriate thoughts about the person he could never have, right in front of his girlfriend who was nothing short of a lovely person. Even if Reed wasn't repulsed by whatever attraction there might have been between the two of them, which he evidently was, nothing could have happened. Nothing will happen, he reminded himself.

"It's strange, though. She doesn't look anything like you," Bailey mused. "Eyes aside, I wouldn't have guessed she was your sister."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Reed still with a hand raised to the coffee machine and glance at him. Him and Adam were the only two at school who knew the truth about his family background, and Oliver knew Reed was waiting to see how he would respond. He could have brushed the comment aside easily enough to change the subject but just because he didn't broadcast the truth didn't mean it was exactly a secret. Oliver knew Bailey well enough to not mind her knowing.

"Actually," Oliver said, "she isn't my biological sister."

"Oh!" Bailey looked surprised. "Step-sister?"

"Not quite. I'm adopted," Oliver said.

He saw the surprise on her face shift into something else as she struggled with what an appropriate reaction, finally settling on an uncertain sort of sympathy. It was better than the pity some people looked at him with after he told them that. Oliver could have told her not to worry – it was a closed adoption, so he had never met his birth parents, but he had been raised by his parents from the day he was born. Oliver couldn't remember anything before the family he'd grown up in, the one he shared a surname with, and didn't feel as if he had missed out on anything in his life. Lewis and Maria Sterling had raised him as if he was as much their own as Lexie was and they were as much the parents he ever needed.

"It's fine," Oliver said with a smile, seeing Bailey floundering for something to say. "It's never really affected me and it's certainly not a problem."

Oliver felt a hand at his elbow and glanced over to see Clair had appeared at his side, effectively putting an end to that conversation. "I'll have another macchiato," she requested, clicking her fingers a little imperiously to get Reed's attention.

"Manners cost you nothing," Reed returned.

Clair laughed. "Isn't the customer always right?"

"Not when it's you. You still owe me two eighty-five," Reed told Oliver, his expression carefully blank.

"No mates rate?"

"You wish. You can have the cake for Lexie on the house, though," Reed added, as an afterthought. "Because she's cute."

His immediate response was on the tip of his tongue – and I'm not? — but he stopped himself saying it aloud, just in time. Something told him that came a little too close to the region of flirting and wouldn't go down well, especially in front of Clair and Bailey. Oliver was a little unnerved at how easy it was for his guard to come down around Reed. He always considered his words before he spoke and never let himself say anything risky, do anything risky, without overthinking it. Oliver had always liked that about being around Reed, how it stripped away his inhibitions and pushed him to spontaneity, but this was dangerous. He couldn't afford to say something that could push their already precarious friendship off the edge.

Oliver paid for the coffee and the muffin. He didn't want to be the reason Reed was fired on his first day for giving away baked goods. He was distracted from his dilemma regarding Reed by Clair, standing closer to him than she needed to and her hand still lingering on his arm. She was close enough that he could smell the faint vanilla scent from her hair and felt the strands brush his shoulder every time she turned her head. As if sensing his gaze, she slanted a glance in his direction. Oliver didn't like the look in her eyes.

"You should have taken the free muffin," she said.

"I didn't want to get Reed in trouble. Besides, it was only an extra two pounds fifty."

"Ooh, only," she grinned. "Aren't you a rich boy?"

Oliver frowned. "I'm not rich – "

"No, you're just noble. Noble and mysterious," Clair said, as if she was agreeing with something he said. She laughed when his frown only deepened. "Lighten up, Oliver! I'm just messing with you. I mean, I'm sure you are noble and definitely mysterious, but we're getting ahead of ourselves. Where's that macchiato, Reed?"

"Wait a bloody second," Reed snapped, flicking the milk steam wand without bothering to conceal his irritation. "These things take time, Clair."

"Your customer service is appalling," Clair tutted.

Reed shot her a dirty look. "Bite me."

"No thanks," she said, and winked at Oliver. "I've got Oliver here for that. Bring that macchiato over when you're finally done, will you? I'm bored of waiting."