“Hold still, or you’re gonna make it worse,” Justin muttered.
He sat on the bench, a first aid kit open beside him and his fingers gentle as he dabbed at Liam’s split lip with antiseptic.
Liam winced but didn’t complain.
His hands rested on his knees.
The cut on his lip had swollen, dark red against his skin.
Marco stood a few feet away, his arms folded across his chest.
His jaw was tight and his eyes hard as he watched Justin work.
“I can’t believe you,” Marco said, his voice low and dangerous.
“We were all worried about you. You came home late last night, acting all weird, barely saying two words. And the whole time you were shagging Brandon’s girl? Are you insane?”
Liam’s eyes flicked up, meeting Marco’s gaze.
“I’m fine. It’s just a split lip.”
“Just a split lip?” Marco’s voice rose.
“You got hurt. Brandon is not someone to mess with. Do you understand that? He has connections. His big brothers have connections with some goons.”
“Marco.” Liam’s voice was calm, almost weary.
“Chill out.”
“Don’t tell me to chill—”
“Seriously. Chill, man.” Liam groaned.
“Stay still,” Justin pressed the antiseptic a little too hard, and Liam hissed through his teeth.
The door to the locker room burst open, and Trevor and Anthony rushed inside, their faces flushed and breathless.
“Liam!” Trevor’s eyes scanned his friend’s face, landing on his lip.
“Are you okay? We saw the news. We came as soon as—”
“I’m fine.” Liam’s voice was flat, controlled.
Marco scoffed.
“He’s fine, he says. Meanwhile, his face looks like he went three rounds with a heavyweight champion.”
Trevor raised a hand, palm out, in a placating gesture.
“Calm down, Marco. I know you’re concerned. We all are.” He turned to Liam.
“What happened? In the shots, Brandon said—”
“Brandon is a nutcase.” Liam’s lip twitched, but Justin pressed another cotton ball against the cut, and the movement turned into a wince.
“We’re just worried,” Anthony said, stepping closer.
“Brandon’s not someone you want as an enemy. He’s got a temper, and his people—”
“His people,” Marco repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“His people are going to come after you, and for what? A girl who’s not even worth it?”
“You guys really need to calm down.” Liam’s eyes narrowed.
“I didn’t hook up with Brandon’s girl. Okay.”
The locker room fell silent.
Justin’s hand paused mid-motion, the cotton ball hovering near Liam’s lip.
Trevor blinked, a confused look on his expression.
Anthony frowned.
Marco’s arms uncrossed slowly as he shifted his posture.
“What?” Marco said in a low tone.
“I didn’t hook up with her,” Liam repeated.
“She asked me for a favor. She found out Brandon was seeing some theatre girl. Famous Elle, I think. And she wanted to make him jealous. So she asked me to play along.”
Trevor rubbed his temples, a low groan escaping his throat.
“So you agreed to be bait. Just like that.”
Liam shrugged, a casual gesture that seemed to contradict the tension in the room.
“It was fun anyway. At least I got to pay him back.”
Marco scrunched up his face.
“Pay him back for what?”
Liam didn’t speak immediately.
“Start talking, Liam,” Anthony said.
Liam reached for the water bottle on the bench and unscrewed the cap.
His throat moved as he swallowed, and when he finally spoke, his voice was quieter.
“The other day, when I went to apologize to Isla, Brandon showed up with his guys. He said some things that made her leave.” His jaw tightened.
“We were just starting to get along, and he ruined it.”
The group exchanged glances.
“Really, man?” Marco’s voice had lost its edge, replaced by something that sounded almost like disappointment.
“That’s a petty move. Even for you.”
Liam grinned.
“I know.”
Justin shook his head, resuming his work on Liam’s lip.
“You’re impossible, you know that? You got busted lips for something you didn’t even do.”
Marco studied Liam for a moment, his eyes narrowing.
“Are you obsessed with Isla now? Because that’s—”
“I’m not.” Liam’s voice was too quick, too defensive.
“She hates me. It’s fine. I don’t care.”
Justin’s fingers paused over the cut.
“Well, she might hate you less, as you guys spend time together preparing for the shoot. And that’s if you behave yourself during the shoot.”
“What shoot?” Trevor interrupted, frowning.
Marco sighed.
“The team got a sponsorship deal with Thunderbolts. Liam and Isla are the faces of the campus campaign. They’re doing a shoot together.”
Trevor’s eyebrows shot up.
“Wow! How did that even happen?”
Marco shrugged.
“It just happened.”
“That’s… unexpected,” Trevor said, shaking his head.
Anthony let out a low whistle.
“One piece of advice, buddy: make sure it doesn’t end with you being cooked again. You should call a truce.”
Liam scoffed.
“She turned me down.”
“Man! She’s tough.”
Liam shook his head, a humorless laugh escaping his lips.
“I’ve got things under control. Don’t worry about it.”
Marco stepped forward, pointing a finger at him.
“Just don’t mess up like this again. We can’t keep bailing you out.”
Liam’s lips curved into a smirk.
“Okay, Dad.”
The tension in the room broke.
Trevor laughed, the sound bright and relieving.
Anthony’s shoulders relaxed.
Even Marco’s grim expression softened into something resembling fond exasperation.
“Idiot,” Marco muttered.
Trevor clapped Liam on the shoulder.
“I’ll have a chat with Brandon. Smooth things over. And see if I can convince him it was all a misunderstanding.”
Liam shook his head.
“Don’t tell him the hook-up was false. Let him wonder.”
Trevor hesitated, then nodded.
“Okay. I’ll keep your secret.”
A few more minutes passed in ease.
They spoke about dinner plans.
Trevor complained about the cafeteria’s food.
Anthony offered to buy everyone burgers at the diner downtown.
Liam grabbed his bag from his locker.
He was just about to follow his friends out when the locker room door swung open again.
Isoldea stood in the doorway, her chest heaving and her eyes scanning the room until they landed on Liam.
“Liam.” Her voice was breathless, almost ragged.
“Are you alright?”
“Fine as hell,” he replied.
A small smile played around his lips.
Isoldea didn’t react to the joke.
“Can I have a minute with you?”
Liam glanced at his friends.
Marco raised an eyebrow.
Trevor shrugged.
Then they filed out of the locker room, the door swinging shut behind them with a soft click.
“What do you want?” Liam asked.
Isoldea’s eyes dropped to his lip.
“Did you really hook up with Brandon’s girl?”
Liam’s expression shuttered.
“I’d rather not talk about it.” He slung his bag over his shoulder.
“That’s not an answer.”
“That’s all you’ll be getting.” He shrugged.
“And if you don’t have anything else to say, I’d like to leave. I’m exhausted.”
He tried to move, but her hand shot out and held his wrist.
“Wait.” Isoldea’s voice sounded urgent.
“I have something to say.”
Liam gently pulled away from her hold.
“Shoot.”
Isoldea took a breath to steady herself.
“Someone told me there’s a chance Isla used her connections to get on the shoot with Thunderbolts.”
Liam’s head tilted.
“So?”
Isoldea blinked, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find her words.
“So? It’s suspicious.”
Liam raised his brows.
“How is that suspicious?”
“Think about it, Isla only just got on the team, and now Thunderbolts wants her as the face of their campus campaign? That doesn’t strike you as strange?”
“Hold up,” Liam’s jaw tightened.
“Are you unhappy that Isla got what you wanted?”
“What?” She gasped.
“No. No—” Isoldea’s voice cracked.
“I’m not unhappy about some damn shoot. That’s ridiculous.”
“Okay. If you say so.” Liam walked to the door, not minding if she was done talking or still had more to say.
“That’s it?” Isoldea turned to face him.
Liam paused, his hand on the door.
“Yes, that’s it.” He nodded.
“And keep Isla out of your mouth. Don’t go around spreading rumors without proof. It’s a bad look.” Then he pushed the door open, leaving Isoldea standing alone in the empty locker room.
Isoldea stood frozen, her fists clenched at her sides and her nails digging into her palms.
Rage settled in her chest, hot and suffocating.
She could feel her pulse in her throat, her temples, and her fingertips.
Her breath came in short, sharp gasps that did nothing to calm the fire building inside her.
He defended her.
The thought was a knife, twisting deeper with every beat of her heart.
Liam defended Isla.
Isoldea’s jaw tightened.
She hated it.
Hated the fact that Isla had only arrived in less than two weeks and she had been trending with him.
She was paired with him for a shoot.
That should have been her.
And now, he was defending her.
Isoldea hated what Isla represented.
A possibility that she may have what she’s always wanted with Liam.
“Not on my watch.” She seethed.
Isoldea held back the urge to kick at the nearest locker.
After a few minutes, she stormed out of the locker room.