Page 46 of Make Me Dream of You

LIVVY

“Noah, stop! Let him go!”

The color has drained from Anthony’s face, his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t do anything, I swear!”

I put my hand on Noah’s arm—it’s hot and hard, flexed, holding onto Anthony’s shirt.

“He didn’t hurt me,” I say.

His grip on Anthony’s collar loosens and he turns slowly around, his scowl melting away and his face softening when he looks at me. Though his chest is still puffed up.

“He just didn’t know about my bruised ribs, and we were—” I swallow, my throat suddenly dry and ears warm. “It was an accident.”

He lets go of Anthony, who takes a couple steps back. “Jesus Christ, dude. What the fuck?”

Noah ignores him, eyes trained on me, he quiets his voice. “You’re okay? Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“All right.” He nods, running his fingers through his hair, still shaking a little. “I’m sorry.” He turns to Anthony. “I’m sorry, man, I just—I thought?—”

“I get it. Whatever, man.” Anthony looks at me. “I guess I better go, then.” He takes a step toward me, but Noah makes no move to step aside, staying between us.

I’m not sure what to say or do—the whole situation changed so fast.

Anthony shoots a glare at Noah before looking back at me. “Good night. I’ll call you.”

I wave as he leaves.

Once he’s gone, it’s silent in the apartment.

“I can’t believe you did that,” I say.

“Livvy, I’m so sorry. I heard you say he was hurting you, and I lost it.”

“That wasn’t okay. You scared me.”

“I’m sorry, I—fuck.” He rakes both hands over his head, his hair a mess. “Are you sure you’re okay? Can I look at your side?”

“No, you may not.” I turn and head toward his room without another word and shut the door firmly behind me.

The audacity of that man. Thinking he can act that way—like I’m his to protect. Or that he has the right to see my body.

My head is still spinning, body buzzing. I won’t be able to sleep for a while.

I change out of my dress then casually reach for the T-shirt I’ve been wearing to bed. Noah’s T-shirt he gave me the first night. I should have given it back, but he never asked for it, and I like sleeping in it.

Leaving the shirt, I instead go to my bag. Thankfully, we were able to go to the apartment and get most of our things earlier this week while repairs are being done. I dig out my sleep tank and shorts then head to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth.

Of course, Noah is in there. He’s at the singular sink, brushing his teeth. I swear to god, he’s the only person who could make brushing his teeth look sexy. His jaw sharp against his flexing, tattooed neck. The veins in his hand bulging under the ink.

Stop looking at him, Livvy! You’re still mad at him. Don’t even acknowledge him.

He steps aside silently as I turn on the water to wash my face. He rinses his toothbrush while I dry off, looking straight ahead in the mirror and not at him. But his eyes are on me. My traitorous body reacts to his attention. Heart beating faster. Nipples hardening. Oh shit, I forgot how thin this tank top was. And these shorts are so short.

“You’re not wearing my T-shirt,” he says as he puts his toothbrush away.

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to give it back to you.” I get my toothbrush out, still not making eye contact.

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