Chapter 5

Liam POV

Great!

Not only was I clumsy, I was a complete idiot.

I’d just humiliated myself in front of Ryan and practically everyone else in the café. Hot chocolate soaked through my white shirt, the bitter smell clinging to the fabric as the stain spread across my chest.

Perfect.

“You okay?” someone asked.

I couldn’t even look up. My jaw tightened as heat crawled up my neck. The last person I wanted seeing me like this was Ryan.

I wanted to disappear.

Swallowing hard, I grabbed my backpack and pushed past the tables, ignoring the stares burning into my back as I rushed out of the coffee shop.

The cold air outside hit me instantly, but it did nothing to cool the humiliation twisting in my gut.

By the time I reached campus, the wet fabric had started sticking to my skin. I crossed my arms tightly over my chest and walked faster, keeping my head down.

Class was about to start, and I didn’t have time to change.

Not that changing would fix the disaster my life apparently was.

How could I have been stupid enough to think Ryan cared?

One kiss at a party and suddenly I’d built fantasies around him like some lovesick idiot. Meanwhile, Ryan probably didn’t even remember it happened.

That was who he was.

Jason had warned me about his brother from the beginning. Ryan liked attention. Liked collecting people until he got bored and moved on to someone new.

And now there was some blonde girl hanging off him like I’d never existed.

I clenched my fists.

Why the hell did it still bother me?

It wasn’t like his reputation was some big secret.

Still, part of me had been dumb enough to think maybe I’d be different.

“Fuck,” I muttered as I finally reached class.

I dropped into the nearest seat, shoulders tense, my shirt still damp against my skin. Every time the fabric shifted, I became painfully aware of how exposed I probably looked.

I wanted to punch something.

Instead, I stared at my textbook and forced myself to get through the lecture.

The class dragged on forever. By the end of it, my headache was pounding and my mood was even worse.

The second the bell rang, I grabbed my bag and headed straight for the door, nearly crashing into someone on the way out.

“Watch where you’re going.”

“Sorry,” I muttered automatically, trying to move past him.

A hand caught my shoulder.

“Wait.”

I stopped and looked up.

“I said I’m sorr—”

“Your shirt.”

My stomach dropped.

The guy pointed awkwardly toward my chest. “The stain kinda made it see-through.”

Shit.

I looked down and immediately regretted it.

The soaked white fabric clung tightly to my chest and stomach, outlining everything underneath—including the faint scars running across my ribs.

Instinctively, I yanked my backpack higher against my body.

“This day just keeps getting better,” I muttered under my breath.

“You don’t have to freak out,” the guy said.

Easy for him to say.

“I’m fine,” I lied.

He looked unconvinced.

Then, before I could ask what he was doing, he grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head.

I blinked at him.

“What are you doing?”

“You need this more than I do.”

Several people in the hallway slowed down to stare, and honestly, I understood why.

The guy was built.

Broad shoulders. Defined chest. Hard abs. Strong arms covered with faint veins. Not in an overly polished way either. He looked athletic. Solid. Like someone who spent more time training than showing off.

I realized a second too late that I’d been staring.

“You can’t seriously walk around campus shirtless,” I said.

A grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Wanna bet?”

Despite everything, I almost laughed.

He held the shirt out toward me again. “Take it.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t even know you.”

“That’s easy to fix.” He held out his hand casually. “Brandon Knight.”

The name fit him way too well.

“And,” he added with a crooked smile, “I hate seeing a handsome guy looking like he lost a fight with a cup of coffee.”

I shook my head, embarrassed all over again.

“You should change before someone else notices,” Brandon said, glancing toward my chest.

Right.

The shirt.

“Thanks,” I muttered finally, taking it from him.

The material was still warm.

“If you want to return it,” he said while stepping backward down the hallway, “Ultra Modern Dorm. Room 312. I’ll be around after eight.”

He winked once before turning away.

And yeah… half the hallway watched him leave.

Including me.

I looked down at the black shirt in my hands before heading straight for the nearest restroom to change.