He was calling out in his sleep again, worse than the previous nights. Normally I wouldn’t have interfered, I’ve been trying to keep my distance just like he told me to, but after I assured Vanessa today that he was fine, I knew I couldn’t just ignore him anymore. I’m expecting him to lash out at me, to tell me that I should mind my own damn business and I know it’s going to cut me to the core. But I would feel worse if I turned a blind eye and something bad happened to him because of it, because of my negligence. Vanessa would never forgive me and I would never forgive myself.

I flip the hall light on before I slip into his room. He’s tossing and turning, the sheets tangled around his muscular body, sweat making his bare chest gleam even in the faint light. I’m almost overcome by the impulse to straddle his waist and take him for a nice, long ride. If he weren’t in the midst of a nightmare I might give in to that desire, but instead I fight against it. Instead, I reach out to gently shake him awake, not expecting the act to startle him as much as it does.

“It’s okay,” I tell him, sitting beside him and squeezing his arm. Maybe I shouldn’t be this close, but it breaks my heart to see him like this. I instantly feel a surge of guilt; I should have done something sooner. Of course, part of the blame lays squarely on his shoulders, too. If he would only let me in, let me help him, I would hold him to my chest and assure him that everything would be alright.

“You can’t keep doing this,” I try to sound gentle, but I’m afraid my tone has a nagging edge to it. “You need to get some help, Matt.”

He doesn’t react, he just keeps staring down and that’s when I realize that my legs are a lot more exposed than I’m comfortable with. I want to tug down my skirt, but I don’t want it to seem like I’m accusing him of staring. The last thing I want to do right now is fight with him. I’m here to help and arguing about something stupid is the opposite of helping.

“Your Mom is really worried about you,” I keep saying, “I really think you should try talking to her about these nightmares. I covered for you today, but I shouldn’t have and I’m certainly not going to a—”

I’m not expecting his interruption and I’m certainly not expecting him to point out the bruises on my arm. My cheeks flush a hot red, both from being embarrassed that he noticed and ashamed of where they came from.

Still, I do want to confide in someone about what happened, but I’m not sure Matt is the right person. The twist of emotions cause my voice to catch in my throat, and as a result I just gaze back at him like a poor, dumbfounded idiot. I know he’s the last person I should trouble with my problems, and when I imagine trying to form the words to explain everything I feel, a well of discomfort sweeps away the urge to discuss it. Unfortunately, the darkness in his eyes and the firm set of his jaw tells me he isn’t about to let the matter rest. When he shouts at me to answer him, I jump, a twinge of frustration putting a frown on my face and giving me back the ability to speak.

“It’s none of your business,” I answer stubbornly, biting back the sudden urge to tell him to go to hell. For someone who doesn’t want me around them, he’s sure being nosy and pushy. Where does he get off grilling me about anything? Who does he think he is? He didn’t want me to be part of his life, I’ll be damned if he’s going to get to butt into mine!

“Don’t give me that crap, Piper.” He doesn’t back down, just like I knew he wouldn’t. He leans closer, his eyes boring into my face. “Just tell me what’s going on,” he commands again.

Normally the proximity would have my heart racing and my pussy aching, but the more he pushes, the more he acts like he’s entitled to know anything about my life, the angrier I become. If he wanted to be involved in my business, he shouldn’t have shut me out. He can’t have it both ways, either we’re friends or we’re not. As it stands, he has no right to demand anything from me. Nothing between us has changed, so whatever the reason for his sudden interest, I’m not dumb enough to trust it.

It’s time for me to go. He doesn’t want my help, he just wants to meddle and be a jerk and I don’t have patience for it tonight. I stand up off the bed, yanking my arm from his grip and putting much needed distance between us. “Look, it’s nothing,” I finally snap, my tone sharp as I lie, “a customer got a bit rowdy at work. Now if you’re done interrogating me…”

But of course he isn’t done.

“Wait a damn minute,” he throws his legs over the side of the bed and rises, closing the space I had purposefully created. His gaze is hard, the way the light shadows his face makes him look frightening, intimidating. “What customer, Piper?” The sound of my name coming from his lips sends a shiver of fear down my spine. What’s gotten into him? With our bodies so close to touching, I can’t stop myself from trembling, betraying my desire for him despite the unease I’m feeling at this situation. Matt looms above me, his muscles bunching with tension as he waits impatiently for my answer.

“What customer,” he presses again, his voice like gravel. “Tell me everything. Now.”

I set my jaw stubbornly. I’m not telling him anything. Not because he simply asks, and not because he’s scary, either. If I thought for a second that he was actually genuine, I would tell him the whole story, but given his behavior until now - well, he can go fuck himself. And that’s exactly what I say.

“Fuck you, Matthew, I don’t owe you any explanation,” the words sound braver than I feel. I stomp to the door, only pausing at the threshold to call back over my shoulder, “And for fuck’s sake, talk to your mother!”