Page 43 of Ruthless Chaos

The person steadies me and helps me stand, then bends down to pick up my phone. When he straightens, he towers over me. I put a hand over my eyes to see him clearly as the sun is directly behind him.

“I’m so sorry,” I begin.Hewas the hard thing I bumped into.

He grins, revealing a set of pearly white teeth. “Don’t worry about it. I should’ve been paying better attention.” His voice is smooth, like whipped butter.

My cheeks heat, and I smile back. “Ditto.”

He’s not overtly muscular, but underneath the pastel-colored sweater vest I can tell that he’s got a lean, well-toned body. Something about him exudes boyish charm. I can’t be sure if it’s the way his curly brown hair playfully flops over his eyebrows, or the intent green gaze he’s pinned me with.

He stretches out a hand to me. I stare at it.

“I’m Liam, by the way. Liam Keller.”

I nod, realizing I’m supposed to take his hand. His palms are surprisingly soft. “My name is Allie Clarke.” The fake name rolls off my tongue surprisingly well, this time.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Allie,” Liam says, shaking my hand. He holds on to it for a second too long. “Forgive my curiosity, but you’re new here, right?”

I chuckle, fiddling with the collar of my shirt. “Is it that obvious?”

My ears heat up. The way he’s staring at me makes my stomach flip. I glance down at my shoes to break the intensity.

“Yes,” he says. Then he adds, “I’d never miss a face as beautiful as yours.”

My eyes snap to his face, and my brain short-circuits. He gives me a mischievous smirk.

My heart’s beating so loud I feel it in my ears. I have to remind myself to breathe. This good-looking guy just called me beautiful, and I no longer know words.

“Thanks,” I say, hoping my smile isn’t wonky. “You’re very nice to look at, too.”

My jaw goes slack the moment the words fall from my mouth. I was supposed to think that, not say it. Clearing my throat, I cough and try to backtrack.

“I mean, that’s—”

“I’m accepting that compliment before you take it back,” Liam interrupts me. He glances down at his expensive looking watch. “May I escort you to your class, Allie?”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

Liam extends his elbow, and we start walking together. As we do, he starts pointing out landmarks around campus, almost like he’s giving me a tour.

I smile and nod as he speaks, trying to seem unaffected by his proximity.

It’s surreal, like a scene from a romcom. All those months ago when I first applied to Harvard, I had dreamed up a situation just like this.

I had the script written of how I wanted to meet my first boyfriend.

I would meet a gentle guy with a heart of gold in a quirky way—like accidentally spilling coffee on him, trying to check out the same book in the library or, embarrassingly, the way I just bumped into Liam. He would be smitten, but not pushy.

In my fantasy, we would date slowly, celebrating every milestone. I would have all my firsts with him, and he would treat me kindly. My unusual upbringing wouldn’t be a turn-off for him, either.

Even if our college romance ends, we would stay friends.

I thought that dream died the moment my house blew up. But, to think that it’s even remotely possible to have something similar to what I dreamt of here, in this hellhole, fills me with an odd sense of hope.

It’s an unfamiliar feeling, but I take it in stride.

Liam walks me to my first class of the semester—Developmental Psychology.

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