Chapter 410

Another drunk causing trouble.

Layla pretended not to hear.

"I'm talking to you," the burly man growled, his voice rough and menacing.

"Are you deaf? Don't resist me, just drink with me. Hey!" Seeing that Layla still ignored him, the man angrily kicked the table.

A staff rushed over at the sound and said, "Sir, please sit back down. I'll bring you a few more beers..."

"Get out! Who needs your beer? I have money to buy beer. I want her to drink with me today." The man reached out to grab Layla.

"Let go." Layla's cold gaze fixed on him.

"Come here..." Just as the man was about to forcefully pull her, a figure pushed him away.

"Mr. Evans..." she said.

"You punk." the man threw a punch, and Brian started fighting with him. Seeing this, others quickly came to help, ganging up on the man.

Layla's eyes flashed with determination. She flipped the table, kicked one of the men in the ankle, and then took another down with a swift move.

The man let out a scream of pain.

Layla's movements were incredibly agile, as fast as lightning, catching the burly men off guard. Before they could react, two of them were already down.

Brian was stunned. Layla, with her petite frame and delicate appearance, looked like someone who needed protection. He never expected her to be so skilled.

One of the men, realizing he couldn't win, grabbed a chair and swung it at Layla's back.

"Watch out!" Brian shouted, rushing over to shield Layla, taking the hit himself.

Layla kicked the man away.

The scene was chaotic, with the men writhing on the ground in pain. The police arrived and took them away.

"I'll take you to the hospital," Layla said, supporting Brian.

Brian was pale with pain and cold sweat on his forehead. He gritted his teeth and shook his head. "I'm fine."

"You're in so much pain. Stop pretending. That hit must have bruised your back," she said.

"I don't want to go to the hospital." Brian continued to shake his head.

Seeing his insistence, Layla relented. "Then wait in the car. I'll go buy some medicine."

"Okay." Brian was sweating in pain inside the car.

"I'm back," Layla said, carrying some bruise ointment as she got into the car. "Let me rub the medicine for you."

"I can do it myself," he added.

"You can't reach that spot, and you need to rub it hard. You don't have the strength to do it yourself. Let me help," she insisted.

"No, it's not appropriate..." he replied.

Layla laughed. "It's just applying medicine. What's inappropriate about it? I grew up practicing martial arts at my dad's school, and I often helped the students rub medicine. Don't be shy. Take off your shirt."

It was the first time a woman had asked him to undress, and Brian felt awkward.

"If you don't take it off, I'll do it myself," Layla said, reaching out.

"I'll do it." Brian finally started unbuttoning his shirt.

The first button, the second, the third... Brian's face grew redder. The cramped car, with no air circulation, made it hard for him to breathe.

"Why are you so slow at taking off your shirt?" Layla, impatient, pulled down one of Brian's sleeves.

Brian let out a low cry, shivering all over. "You..."

"Turn your back on me," she demanded.

Brian bit his lip. His hand trembled slightly as he held onto his shirt. After hesitating for a while, he slowly let go.

"Your back is bruised. I need to rub it hard to get rid of the bruise. It will hurt, so bear with it," Layla said, placing her hand on Brian's back.

Almost instantly, as Layla's soft hand touched his muscles, a tingling sensation spread through Brian's body. He couldn't help but let out a muffled groan, his heart racing, and his ears turning red.

"I haven't even started rubbing, and you're already making noises." Layla teased, thinking Brian was in pain.

Brian's ears turned even redder.

Layla's small hands began to massage his back, turning it red as warmth spread through his body.

In the darkness, Brian bit his lip. His face flushed as if filled with blood. He seemed to be enduring something, his face full of restraint and excitement.

'Stop, stop...' Brian urged himself silently, but when Layla finally said, "All done," a sudden wave of disappointment washed over him.

Brian silently pulled up his sleeve, his voice awkward. "Thank you."

"You got hurt because of me. I should be the one thanking you," Layla said, putting away the ointment.

"It's a man's responsibility to protect a woman, but I didn't expect you to be so skilled," he replied.

It seemed more like Layla was protecting him.

Layla smiled nonchalantly. "There's no rule that says men have to protect women. We women aren't weak. We can protect ourselves."

Brian knew Layla was a strong-willed person,unlike those who talked about independence but lacked the ability and just liked to show off.

Layla's efforts and character made her shine. That light was increasingly affecting Brian.

Just sitting here, she looked so charming and captivating.

Brian hadn't felt crush in a long time.

Brian could hear his own heartbeat, the sound of his blood rushing, and he unconsciously gripped his knees.

Layla suddenly looked at him in surprise and exclaimed, "Mr. Evans, your face is so red! You're blushing."

"No, I'm not." Brian hurriedly denied, turning his face away.

Layla, however, leaned in excitedly, teasing. "You totally are, it's obvious. Why are you blushing? Are you shy? You're so innocent."

Layla couldn't resist teasing such a contrasting man a bit.

Brian couldn't help but feel irritated. "I said I'm not."

"Alright, you're not..." Layla smirked, clearly pleased with herself.

Brian was even more annoyed by Layla's laughter.

At 3 a.m., Brian woke up from a "nightmare."

He sat on the bed for a while, got up, poured a glass of ice water, and sat in the living room, staring blankly at the lights on the river.

His brows furrowed, seemingly conflicted.

Tonight, Brian had a dream.

Daily work drained Brian's energy, and he usually came home late, fell asleep immediately with dreamless nights. He only dreamed a few times a year, usually work-related, during particularly stressful periods.

But tonight, Brian dreamed of Layla.

He dreamed of hugging Layla, even kissing her. The moment their lips touched, he woke up, feeling both surprised and inexplicably disappointed.

Brian held the cup in one hand, the other hand unconsciously touching his lips.

When Brian realized what he was doing, it was as if the dream had scared him awake, and he quickly pulled his hand away.

What was he doing? Did he actually want that dream to be real?

Having such fantasies about a woman made Brian feel ashamed, as if he were a lecherous creep.

The pain in Brian's back was still there, both sore and slightly itchy.

His muscles still retained Layla's warmth and pressure, making him itch intensely.

Brian couldn't control it. His heart pounded even harder.

That night, Brian couldn't sleep.