The words seemed out of context, but they seemed to offer her some relief. “Yes.”
She looked down at her sweat-soaked Green Day T-shirt. She gripped the worn fabric like it was a life vest and nodded, whispering, “Okay. Okay.”
“Yes, you’re okay.” This time when he reached for her, she came to him, letting him put his arm around her. Her body still trembled, but her breathing had eased down from hyperventilation mode.
Rebecca and Kincaid, who’d been standing in the hallway, stepped inside, both looking at Liv with worried eyes.
A guy Finn hadn’t seen before—presumably the night manager—came in behind them. He had to be all of eighteen but had a walk like he was going to go Wild West sheriff on them. “What’s going on here? Is everything all right?”
“I need a minute,” Liv whispered, turning her face away from the door. “Please.”
Finn turned, blocking the view of Liv. “Everything’s fine. False alarm.”
“False alarm?” the guy said with a frown. “Look at the door. My boss is going to be pissed. And y’all woke up half the building. What the hell happened?”
“I’ll pay for the door,” Finn said.
“I need to make a police report for property damage. And someone yelled the word gun. If there’s a—”
Rebecca had taken a few steps inside, and she shifted over in front of the table where Finn had placed his weapon. “There’s no gun,” she said. “Our friend just had a nightmare. We’ll cover the damage.”
“Sorry for any trouble,” Finn said. “Everything’s under control.”
“Doesn’t look that way.” The guy tried to peek around Finn and get a look at Olivia. “You sure your friend’s not high or something? Because we can’t have that kind of thing—”
“Look.” Finn gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to grab his gun, point it at the guy, and inform him he needed to leave—now. But that was Axel talking, the guy who ruled by ruthless intimidation. Finn took a breath, pushing that dark impulse down. “Look. It’s just been a rough day for us all. She had a nightmare. A bad one.”
“And we’d appreciate a little privacy,” Rebecca said, taking a no-bullshit tone. “This hotel assured us we’d get it.”
The guy’s attention moved to each of them like he was connecting some dot-to-dot puzzle. Awareness dawned on his face. “Oh, you’re the ones here for the anniversary. So she had a nightmare about…you know?”
Kincaid had been standing off to the side, watching Liv like a worried mother, but she turned at that. She pulled the pink robe she was wearing more tightly around herself and offered the manager a tight smile. “Sweetheart, I appreciate you rushing up here with me to intervene. That was real helpful and brave of you. But now that we know everything’s all right, we’d all just like to get back to bed. No one wants to be seen by God and all the world in their nightclothes.”
Kincaid’s sweet-as-pie approach seemed to soften him. He nodded. “Oh, right. Sure. I mean, I guess as long as no one’s hurt, we can just deal with the rest in the morning.”
“Good plan,” Finn said.
“Such a smart plan. I’m sure that’s why they put you in charge. Good head on your shoulders.” Kincaid ushered him to the door like she was seeing him off after a dinner party—all smiles and sugar. The guy had no shot against that level of brutal Southern hospitality and offered no further protest. Once he was out in the hallway, Kincaid shut the mangled door behind her and turned around, dropping the Miss America smile. “Jesus H. Christ. Some people can’t take a damn hint.”
She strode over to the bed. “Liv, are you all right, honey? That sounded like a helluva nightmare…Liv?”
Rebecca frowned. “Uh-oh. She doesn’t look so good.”
chapter
SIX
“Olivia?”
Her friends’ concerned voices were like safety ropes dragging Liv out of the terrifying in-between place she’d been stuck in. Kincaid. Rebecca. Both were staring at her. Finn’s arm was around her. Everything was okay now. This was real. Finn had his scar. She wasn’t wearing a Long Acre T-shirt soaked in his blood. Joseph wasn’t going to walk in and shoot them all. She licked her dry lips.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice scraped raw against her throat, and she slipped out of Finn’s hold, suddenly self-conscious about her friends seeing her in this state. “I didn’t mean to scare everyone. I’ll be fine. I’m okay.”
“Do you need us to get you anything, sweetie?” Kincaid asked, sitting on the opposite side of the bed from Finn. “Water? A pill? A former football player in his underwear? Because we’ve got the last one covered. And I can make the first two happen.”
Liv looked up at that, registeri
ng the fact that Finn was shirtless and his thick hair was sticking up every which way. Her gaze drifted down to his black boxer briefs. “You’re in your underwear.”