Liam woke up feeling like a truck had hit him, reversed, and then hit him again for good measure.
His head was pounding. His throat dry. His stomach wobbly.
"Oh my god," he whispered. "I'm actually dying."
He groaned, rolling over to grab his phone.
Seven messages from Gary.
Gary: WELL??
Gary: How was the party??
Gary: DID BLAKE KISS YOU
Gary: DID YOU KISS HIM
Gary: Hello??
Gary: Are you alive
Gary: Answer me before I call the police
Normally Liam would laugh and write back, but right now?
Nope. Not today.
He tossed the phone aside and forced himself out of bed. Every movement sent a new wave of pain through his skull. He dragged himself to the bathroom and took a long, hot shower, letting the water wake him up.
When he got dressed, he still felt terrible, so he headed off campus toward the small pharmacy near the bookstore.
Painkillers.
Water.
And maybe something sugary to survive the day.
Once he paid, he decided to stop by the only café he'd seen open on move-in day. It was a quiet Saturday—no classes, no pressure, just the sounds of students wandering around campus.
Inside, the café smelled like roasted coffee beans and vanilla. Soft indie music played from the speakers. The peaceful vibe instantly soothed his headache.
Liam ordered an Iced Americano and a blueberry muffin, then found a small table near the window. He took the painkillers, sipped the icy drink, and opened the book he brought from home.
Finally—calm.
He turned a page.
Took another sip.
Breathed.
And then the door opened.
Liam swore his soul left his body.
There he was.
Blake.
And not alone—he entered with two friends, all laughing, one of them smacking Blake on the shoulder, saying something Liam couldn't hear.
Liam ducked slightly, lowering his book like a shield.
No, no, no—please don't see me. I look like a ghost. A dehydrated ghost.
He tried to focus on the words on the page, pretending he didn't notice the group entering the café.
But curiosity got the better of him.
Just one peek.
He lifted his eyes—
And froze.
Blake was already looking at him.
Smiling.
A soft, warm, knowing smile that said: I see you, Liam. And I remember last night.
Liam's heart slammed against his ribs.
His face turned so red he could've boiled water with it.
Oh God. Oh no. Oh please, universe, bury me alive.
He quickly snapped his eyes back to his book and pretended to read with the intensity of someone studying for a final exam. Meanwhile, Blake said something to his friends, then—very casually—started walking toward him.
Liam wanted to slide under the table, roll across the café floor, and escape out the back door.
Instead, he sat there stiff as a board, praying his heart would stop beating so loudly.
Because apparently… he wasn't done embarrassing himself around Blake Carter.