She was supposed to play along.
Instead, she was playing him.
And worst of all?
She wasn’t even trying.
He dragged his fingers along the bar’s edge, letting the silence sit long enough to be felt. Then he stepped back, smooth and unhurried.
“It’s been a pleasure, Miss Rivers.”
He paused. Tilted his head. Trying to work her out.
“I’ll see you around.”
And with that, he walked away.
Not rushed. Not rattled.
Just… thoughtful.
His footsteps faded into the low thrum of music, swallowed by the club’s velvet hush.
Arden let the glass slip from her hand to the counter with a soft clink—small and grounding.
But Arden wasn’t watching him anymore.
Because Gideon had entered the room.
She felt him before she saw him.
Not like Colton—not a shift in pressure, not a snake waiting to strike.
No. Gideon’s presence was different.
A weight. A shadow. A heat at her back.
She glancedup as he reached the bar, his gaze locked on Colton’s retreating form.
“What did he want?”
Not a demand. Not a growl.
Low. Steady. Loaded.
Arden exhaled, tossing the bar towel over her shoulder. “Nothing.”
She expected him to let it go.
He didn’t.
His fingers curled around the bar’s edge, knuckles flexing once before releasing. “Arden.”
She sighed, finally meeting his eyes.
And then, almost imperceptibly, she worried her lip.
A small tug at the left corner of her mouth.
