Min Jun stopped and did a double-take. Was this really his home? The one he had always taken such pride in.
Liam lay splayed on the couch with a beer can in his hand. The coffee table was strewn with chip bags, empty cans, and a plate of what looked like shrimp shells. The air was stale with an undercurrent of feet. Min Jun spotted a sock dangling from an end table and another one lying beneath the coffee table. A trail of crumbs marked the path from the refrigerator to the couch. He was beginning to feel sorry for making Dillon share a room with this guy. He tried hard not to envision what their bedroom looked like if this was how Liam treated a common area.
