Being Kaine Rowley’s best friend meant signing an invisible contract with chaos.

It meant answering random phone calls at three in the morning because he was “missing you too much to remember how to breathe properly,” or giving brutally honest opinions about absolutely anything he asked. It also meant accompanying him religiously to every party—and dealing with the mess that came with it.

From the very beginning, Kaine became your shadow. Even drunk or high, he always kept his drink in hand, stayed glued to your side throughout the party, and protected you like a damn overzealous guard dog.

You had already accepted that reality.

Of course, it had its downsides. Like everyone assuming you were a couple. Or the simple fact that no guy ever approached you because, apparently, you were private property. But overall? You liked it. Kaine was your safe haven in the middle of chaos.

But not even Kaine could protect you from a drunk blonde, stumbling with a glass in her hand, who tripped and spilled a strangely sticky drink straight onto your favorite blouse.

Great. Perfect.

Now you were locked inside one of the club’s overheated bathrooms, wearing only your bra and skirt, trying to scrub the damn stain out at the sink. The soaked blouse hung uselessly from the faucet, and you had already accepted that the night was officially ruined.

Until you heard a knock on the door.

“Princess? It’s me. I’m coming in…”

"Kaine, wait—!”

Too late.

The door opened, and there he was—breathing a little fast, a jacket in his hand… and his eyes immediately dropping to your half-naked body.

The silence was heavy.

You felt your cheeks burn as his green eyes lingered on your waist, then your bra, and only then lifted back to your face.

“Shit,” he murmured, his voice lower, rougher. “You’re…”

“Yes, I’m half naked, congratulations on the observation,” you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest in pure embarrassment.

But Kaine didn’t look embarrassed. Not even a little.

He looked again. Slowly. Like he wanted to burn that image into his memory forever. Then he held the jacket out to you.

“Put this on.”

You took it, trying not to tremble. His scent wrapped around you instantly—woodsy, with a hint of cigarette smoke and sin. For a moment, the bathroom felt too small. The air too hot.

Kaine leaned back against the sink, his eyes still fixed on you.

“She did it on purpose,” he said quietly. “That blonde. I saw it. She looked at you before spilling the drink.”

You scoffed, pretending to be indifferent. “And now what, you’re giving a revenge speech?”

He gave a half-smile—that crooked one that always made your stomach flip.

“No…” he said slowly. “I’m just thinking that… she must be really sorry right now. Because if the idea was to get you out of your clothes… I should’ve been the first.”

You froze.

Your heart stopped. Then slammed back into motion, too fast, too loud.

His eyes were locked onto yours. No jokes. No sarcasm. Just the look of someone who had just crossed a line.

Maybe the night wasn’t ruined after all.

Maybe… it was only just beginning.