Page 69 of Make Me Dream of You

“Deal,” she says softly.

I roll onto my back, listening to the storm and the way her breaths slow and even out until, finally, I can’t hear them anymore at all.

“Livvy,” I whisper. “Are you awake?”

She doesn’t answer.

I exhale, staring at the ceiling, preparing for the unending thoughts to start worming their way in. The memories that keep me awake. The conversations never had. Everything that’s been nagging at my brain, any worry that’s been creeping around the edges of my mind, are all about to flood to the surface now.

Livvy lets out a sweet sigh and rolls toward me, pressing the side of her body against me. And now all I can think about is her. Next to me, touching me. Her warmth. Her scent.

I close my eyes to the sound of the rain.

I don’t wake up until the sun is streaking through the curtains. Livvy is next to me, unmoving. Soft, rhythmic breaths. Her feet have tangled with mine in the night, but I won’t move and risk waking her.

I slept all night. For the first time in years. Since I was a teenager. Since before.

Livvy’s dark lashes are fanned across her cheeks, hair sparkling golden in the morning sunshine. The light dances around her, warming her skin. So much skin. Her bare arms and delicate shoulders, her slender neck, across her collarbone, and down to the soft flesh of her breasts, which are trying to free themselves from her tank top.

Ignoring how just the tiniest peek of a single pink nipple has my cock throbbing, I tug on the strap of her tank top, twisting and pulling it up to cover her.

A hard knock rattles the door and vibrates through the room.

“Livvy,” Wood calls from the other side.

Her eyes open, my fingers still intertwined in the strap of her shirt.

Shit.

CHAPTER 13

LIVVY

Noah snatches his hand away from me.

“I was adjusting, uh…” He gestures toward my top, looking comically distressed.

For a moment we’re still. His eyes locked on mine. Dark gray blue. He’s so close his breath tickles my skin. Holding my breath, I slide my foot against his. He closes his eyes and lets out a little sigh that almost sounds like a whimper.

A knock comes again. Wood. Fuck. Noah throws the covers off and pads to the door.

Wood’s voice is muffled through the door. “Sorry to wake you. Do you know where Noah is? I can’t find him?—”

Noah opens the door, Wood is standing there, fist in the air as if he’s about to knock again, mouth open.

“I’m right here,” Noah growls.

Wood blinks, his eye shifting to me lying in Noah’s bed.

“It’s not what it looks like,” I say.

Wood puts both palms up and takes a step back. “None of my business. I won’t say anything.”

“There’s nothing going on.” Noah’s morning voice is husky and rough.

“Exactly.” Wood does an exaggerated wink.

Noah sighs.

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