I was digging into my bag looking for my phone when someone came around the corner and collided with me. I stumbled back.

A second of shock, then I yelped in pain.

I glanced down at my front and saw that my entire shirt was soaked with some kind of green liquid. It smelled like coffee, but it was green.

Scalding green liquid.

“Jesus! Are you okay?” someone asked.

“Oh, shit! Shit! Shit!” My eyes burning with tears, I dropped my bag onto the carpeted floor. Peeling the shirt away, I started to blow on my skin to find some relief.

Some girl came running to the guy’s side.

“Sir, is everyth—”

“Go get me something to clean her up with,” the guy snapped at the girl.

“Olive Taylor?” He softened his voice for me.

Hearing my name, I looked up and saw Keith, the exec with the bleached teeth, hovering over me.

“Oh. Hello,” I said, my lower lip slightly trembling. I peeked into my shirt and realized my chest was already red.

Wonderful.

The girl reappeared next to us and handed Keith a wet towel.

“Let me,” Keith murmured, taking a step toward me.

I was in too much pain to decline his help, so I pushed my hair out of the way and let him gently press the cold towel onto my skin.

“Thank you,” I murmured. “That feels great.”

He met my eyes and gave me an apologetic smile. He was probably in his mid thirties, but for his age, he looked good—minus the teeth situation. When he slowly reached the swell of my breasts, I swallowed and looked away.

Maybe a wet towel wasn’t the best solution, but it was working. For now. I still had to lose the shirt somehow. It was completely soaked through and right then competing in a wet t-shirt contest was not on my to-do list.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, someone grabbed my wrist and I was wrenched away from Keith. My head jerked up and I saw Jason pushing me behind his back, glaring daggers at Keith.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing touching her?”

“Jason!” I gasped, a little belatedly. His hand was still around my wrist, but his touch was gentle.

Keith appeared calm, but upon hearing Jason’s tone, he raised his brows.

“Jason,” I said, tugging at his arm, trying to get his attention. “There is coffee all over me, he was trying to help.”

“It is smoothie, Olive,” Keith said looking at me with a small smile.

Hot smoothie?!

Seriously?

“By groping your breasts?” Jason growled. He looked down at me with his flushed face and I frowned up at him.

“Jesus,” he exclaimed when he finally dropped his eyes enough to get a look at me. “Jesus!” he repeated. Looking into my eyes, he asked, “Are you okay, little one?”

“I’ll be fine.” I looked at Keith over his shoulder and decided an apology was in order.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Thank you for your help.” I looked at Jason, lifted my arm, and eyed my wrist that was still in his grasp. “If you can let me go, I’ll just leave.”

He didn’t let me go, but at least his face wasn’t flushed with anger any more.

Glancing at Keith, he said, “Sorry, man. When I saw you two…I assumed wrong.”

“Understandable. She is your friend.”

Jason’s mouth tightened.

What in the world is going on?

“I hope we’ll see each other soon, Miss Taylor,” Keith said to me and walked away from us.

Jason dropped my wrist and gently brushed the hair that had fallen over my shoulders away from my chest.

“We’re going to the emergency room.”

“No, we’re not. What’s wrong with you?” I asked, genuinely curious. “He was helping me. What did you think he could be doing out in the open like this?”

He had the decency to look away.

“How can I help?” he asked instead.

I sighed. “You should go back in there, Jason. I was leaving anyway.” Again, I peeled the shirt away from my skin. If another Uber was close by, maybe I could make it back to the apartment without being seen by too many people.

“We’re done with the reading.” He put his hand on my back and urged me forward. “Let’s go. I should have an extra shirt in my car. We’ll look at the damage as you change and then decide if we’re going to the emergency room or not.”

“Fine, Mom,” I mumbled, and he gave me a dark look.

“Your car really looks adorable from the front,” I said, once we reached the parking lot.

“It’s a Venom GT Spyder, Olive. It’s not an adorable car.”

I shrugged behind his back. To me, the eyes and the small mouth looked adorable.

Unlocking the doors, he leaned in and reached for something behind his seat.

A gray t-shirt.

“Take off your shirt,” he said, straightening up and turning to me.

“What?” I gaped at him.

His fingers reached out to lift the hem of my shirt, but I slapped his hand away.

“What are you doing?” I hissed quietly as two girls hurried passed his car, their phones glued to their ears.

“Olive,” he started. “I need to see how bad it is. Take it off.”

His hands came at me again. I slapped his hand harder.

“You want me to take off my shirt out in the open?”

He met my eyes. “We’re in the parking lot. No one who isn’t supposed to be in here is allowed to be in here. No one will see you between the SUV and my car. Go on.”

He reached at me again.

So, naturally, glaring at him, I slapped his hand even harder.

This time he laughed.

“Don’t make me take it off for you, Olive. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Your car doesn’t even reach your chest, Jason. I doubt it will do much to hide me from sight.”

“Face the SUV. I’ll turn around and cover your back. Or we can go straight to the ER. Your choice.”

“No,” I snapped.

“Then do as I say.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re annoying.” After a short staring contest that only ended up making me hot, I was the first one to turn away.

Grumbling under my breath, I gingerly lifted my shirt off of my stomach and took it off. It wasn’t hurting as much as it had a few minutes before, but I wouldn’t say no to rubbing some ice cubes on my chest either. Dropping the shirt to the ground, I…

Shit! The extra shirt was still in his hands.

“Hand me the damn shirt,” I whispered, looking to my left to see if anybody was walking around.

“Why are you whispering?” he asked right over my shoulder, his hot breath tickling my neck.

The annoying-hot-jerk chuckled when I squealed and jumped around.

“You were supposed to turn around,” I accused him hotly.

His eyes dropped to my chest. His jaw hardening, he quickly looked up and away.

“What is that?” he gritted through his teeth.

Covering my breasts with my forearm, I snapped, “They’re breasts. What does it look like?”

Did he think they were too big? He probably did. I definitely didn’t have those small elegant breasts where you could go to bed without wearing a bra.

“Why aren’t you wearing something white and simple?”

Despite the stupid situation, I looked down at my chest and laughed. “Why do you care what I wear? And what is wrong with this one?”

He looked up at the sky. “It’s…it doesn’t…do anything. You can see through it.”

“So?” I asked.

“You aren’t supposed to wear stuff like that.”

“Says who? I’m sure you must’ve seen much better stuff than this.” I took a deep breath and let it out. “Just give me the damn shirt, Jason,” I said impatiently. “It wasn’t my intention to disgust you or embarrass you or whatever it is happening right now.”

“Disgust me?” His eyes shot back to my eyes. “Olive,” he said, taking a step toward me.

I cut him off before he could tell me something brotherly and piss me off, or—even worse—break my heart even more.

“Jason, there are people around. Please give me the shirt so I can cover myself.”