“Fucking shit…” Xander mutters as you press a clean cloth against the wound on his cheek. He winces but gives you a lopsided smile, a mix of pain and pride. “Next time, I’ll just let them talk.”

“Yeah, right. You’d never forgive yourself,” you reply, shaking your head. He had gotten into a fight because someone insulted you at the party.

“Just wanted to protect you, mon soleil,” he says softly, glancing at the bandage on his split knuckle. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”