The next thing I know, I’m being pulled off the pavement and steadied on my feet.

“You alright?”

Two strong hands grip my arms, anchoring me as I blink up into a familiar pair of stormy gray eyes. Simon. My next-door neighbor. Grumpy, silent, and the single dad who rarely says more than five words to anyone on a good day.

“Simon?” I breathe out, still trying to process what just happened.

“Tell me you’re hurt,” he growls lowly, “so I can flatten that bastard right here.”

“I-I’m fine,” I say quickly, my voice shaking. “What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t answer. He just steps in front of me like a wall and locks eyes with the man who had grabbed me by the arm moments before.

“Back off,” Simon snaps. “Get in your damn car and drive. Now.”

The guy—Evan—throws his hands up in mock surrender. “Relax, man. Just talking to my ex. You don’t need to get involved.”

Simon’s jaw ticks.

“She’s my neighbor,” he grits out, taking a step forward, towering. “I come home to see her on the ground with you looming over her like a creep. That’s real damn concerning to me.”

Evan glares but takes a step back. “Whatever, dude.”

Simon doesn’t blink until Evan’s car screeches out of the driveway.

Only then does he turn to me, his voice rougher but softer. “Next time, call me. I don’t care if it’s 2 a.m. I’ll be there.”