She rolls her eyes. “Noah. Dr. Noah Almonte.”
Her entire face turns red when my grin widens. I twirl my hand impatiently, gesturing to her to continue.
She sighs softly through a shy smile. “Well, he works with Owen—er… Healer—at the clinic. We’ve known each oth—”
“There you are.”
We both jump at the sharp voice cutting through the room. I glance up to see Ryder striding toward us. His walk is casual, but there’s a rigid irritation in his posture that immediately sets me on edge.
He softens slightly when his gaze meets mine, all while I’m frowning at his abrupt intrusion.
“I was wondering what was taking you so long,” Ryder drawls with a charming smirk. “Gossiping, love? Really?”
My expression drops into a flat glare. “You just interrupted the only fun I have in this damn club.” I add an exaggerated huff for good measure.
He shakes his head, amused. The moment his gaze lands on Isabelle, the easy humor drains from his face, replaced by a sharp scowl.
She’s sliding off the bar stool, standing stiffly like she’s ready to bolt.
“I’d suggest you don’t use a brother’s legal name again, Bel,” Ryder says coolly. “I won’t tell Healer, but there better not be a next time.”
I frown at the harshness in his tone.
It’s not hard to imagine why Isabelle might slip up every now and then. At the clinic, she calls him Dr. Owen Moore all day.If I worked those hours, I’d probably forget he even had a road name.
I’m about to defend her when she murmurs a quick, “Alright,” and flees the dining hall.
Ryder’s scowl lingers until she disappears completely.
“That was harsh,” I mutter, crossing my arms.
He raises a brow at me. “You know better than anyone you don’t use a brother’s given name where people can hear it.” He gestures loosely around the open dining area—far from private.
I slump a little. “Fair,” I admit reluctantly.
Before I can question his irritability further, he steps closer. “So,” he says lightly. “How’s the protection detail going? Ruin giving you trouble?”
I roll my eyes. “No. Not since the… the—the… thething.”
“The ambush?” he supplies, grimacing.
I nod, but his gaze has already dropped to my plate. The full plate of pasta I’ve barely touched.
“Why aren’t you eating?”
I shrug, resting my elbows on the counter. “Not really hungry. This whole situation’s messing with my appetite.”
“You’ve got cabin fever, Charlotte,” he concludes.
He’s not wrong. It feels like I’ve been gasping for air in a room with no oxygen.
“Tell you what,” he murmurs. He leans in close—so close his breath brushes the shell of my ear. His fingers gently hook under my chin, turning my face toward him. “We’ll go out to the Whiterun Bridge Trail once this is over,” he says softly. “Beautiful falls. Blue water. We’ll make a day of it.”
He’s so close it feels like he might kiss me. His breath fans over my lips.Do I want him to?
The strange moment shatters when his phone vibrates between us. He curses under his breath, stepping back and pulling it from his pocket. “Prez?”
I sit up straighter immediately. My nerves spark to life.
