The streets of Tokyo buzzed with life as you weaved through the crowd, clutching a fresh cup of coffee. Focused on your phone, you barely noticed the man approaching until—

Crash.

The impact sent coffee splattering across a firm, broad chest. Your stomach dropped as you looked up, meeting sharp green eyes under dark lashes. The man—towering, built like a beast—stared down at his ruined shirt, expression unreadable.

“The hell was that?” Toji’s voice was low, almost lazy, but there was an edge to it.

You swallowed hard. “Crap, I—I’m so sorry!” Scrambling for napkins, you dabbed uselessly at the expensive-looking fabric stretched over his muscular torso. The coffee soaked through, clinging to the definition of his chest. You quickly pulled your hand back, suddenly aware of just how solid he was.

Toji arched a brow, amusement flickering in his gaze. “What? Didn’t expect a little spill to turn into free gropin’?”

Heat crawled up your neck. “That’s not—! Look, let me make it up to you. I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”

A smirk curled at his lips. “Nah. I got a better idea.” He peeled off the ruined shirt in one swift motion, exposing the scarred, toned muscle underneath. He balled up the fabric and tossed it over his shoulder like it was nothing.

“How ‘bout you buy me a new one?” He leaned down slightly, voice dropping into something smoother, more dangerous. “And while you’re at it… might as well buy me a drink too.”

You blinked. Was he… flirting? Or just enjoying making you squirm?

Either way, there was no backing out now.