The door swung open fast.
And standing there—half-asleep, hair messy, eyes sharp even in the dark— was Keifer.
I didn't think. I didn't breathe. I didn't even look.
I just ran straight into him and hugged him like my life depended on it.
His arms came up slowly, surprised, warm, steady. "Jay?" he said softly. "What happened?"
That's when my brain finally turned back on.
And I realized something.
Keifer. Was. Shirtless.
Completely shirtless.
I froze in his arms. My face went red so fast I thought I was going to explode. I stepped back slowly… very slowly… eyes wide.
And then I made the mistake of looking up.
He was staring at me. Calm. Confused. And definitely aware that I was staring at his chest like an idiot.
His eyebrow lifted. "You're staring."
"I—NO—I'M NOT—YOU'RE JUST—THE AIR—THE LIGHT—THE—SHUT UP," I stuttered, covering my face.
He smirked. A slow, dangerous, teasing smirk.
"Jay," he said, voice low, "you're still staring."
"I'M NOT!" I yelled, staring even harder.
He stepped closer, still smirking. "Should I put on a shirt? You look… distracted."
"I AM NOT DISTRACTED," I said, absolutely distracted.
He crossed his arms over his chest—making it worse. "So," he said, "why did you run here in the middle of the night?"
I swallowed hard. The whisper behind me. The footsteps. The cold breath on my neck.
"I… I needed water," I said. "And the hallway was quiet so I went to the canteen. But then—something whispered behind me. Right behind me. I didn't look. I just ran. And your room was the closest."
Keifer's expression changed instantly. The teasing faded. His eyes sharpened.
"You shouldn't have been out there," he said quietly. "Not alone. Not at night."
"I know," I whispered.
He stepped aside and nodded toward the room. "Come inside. Stay until the noises stop."
I hesitated. He waited.
And then I stepped inside his room—still red, still embarrassed, still very aware he was shirtless.
The door closed behind us.