Page 3 of Make Me Dream of You

Did I just ask if he comes here often? I want to smack myself.

He turns his body toward mine, licking his upper lip. “I do.” He shifts closer. “Now that you know my name, can I have yours?”

My heart pounds at the same time all the air escapes my lungs, and my chest tightens. The thoughts swirling in my head making me dizzy—or maybe it’s the drinks. What if I give him my name and it jogs his memory? What if he realizes who he’s been flirting with and he’s mortified? Or worse. What if my name stirs nothing in his memory because I was truly that inconsequential to him?

“You’ll have to work a little harder for that,” I say. Good one, Liv, stay aloof. Mysterious.

“Gladly.” His smile widens, showing more of his teeth. It’s a wicked, wolfish smile. And I’m the sheep.

Oh.

Riley places my drink in front of me, removing my empty one.

“So, A Girl with No Name.” Noah plays with his straw, twisting it between his teeth. “Why haven’t I seen you around here before?”

“How do you know you haven’t?”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t forget your face.”

The irony that he has already done so is not lost on me, and I laugh loud enough I’m pretty sure half the bar hears it and almost choke on my drink. But it was eight years ago. I was embarking on my first of two emo phases and had yet to experience the gift and curse of puberty. So, I’ll give him a pass.

He tilts his head, his thick brow furrowing. “Why was that funny?”

Still smiling, I suck down my drink, trying to think of what to say. “I don’t know. I’ve just always had a forgettable face, I guess.” Bex was always the prettier one, the fun one, the outgoing one.

Noah clenches his jaw for a second, the hard line of it only drawing more attention to his throat tattoos. “Anyone who would forget that face, that smile, that laugh”—the tip of his tongue grazes his upper lip then teases the edge of his straw, his gaze falling to my mouth—“is a fucking idiot.”

I think I might melt. Just cease to exist. Or that I’ve blacked out and this is an elaborate hallucination. Noah Dixon is flirting with me. Hard. My slightly inebriated brain cannot comprehend it.

I glance toward the doors just as Bex and Macy walk inside. It’s a sign that I should quit while I’m ahead. The longer I talk with Noah, the higher the probability I’ll say something silly or embarrassing.

“Thank you for the drink, Noah.” I slide from the stool.

“You’re still not even going to give me your name? What am I going to put your number under in my contacts?”

I smile. “I didn’t give you my number.”

“We should fix that.”

“You said you come here often. I’m sure I’ll see you here again. If you still want it next time, I’ll give it to you.”

His grin is devilish. “Deal.”

I turn and walk through the growing crowd toward my sister and Macy, before my legs give out, my heart beating so hard it’s about to burst out my chest, not daring to look back at him.

Holy. Fuck. What just happened?

“Livvy!” Bex squeals and scoops me into a hug like she hasn’t just seen me a few hours ago. She takes my hand and leads me around to the far side of the bar.

Macy trails after us, her curly red hair bouncing against her rosy cheeks.

I glance over to where I had been sitting, but Noah isn’t there anymore.

Riley spins behind the bar. “You’re late,” he says through a closed-tooth smile.

“Sorry!” Bex says.

“It was my fault,” Macy pipes in.

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