“Your hotel?” I echo.
He lifts a lean, elegant hand and points casually at the mirror behind the counter where, above the rows of gleaming bottles, etched in an elegant gold script, are the words: Rockwood Resort.
Ah. I glance at the bike helmet, and now it makes sense. “You must be Liam Rockwood.”
Heir to the Rockwood fortune. The man whose family is trying to take Ryder’s land.
His eyebrows lift. “Have we met?”
“No. But I’ve had the displeasure of being disturbed by your obnoxious bike. Some of the other deafened towners were kind enough to inform me who I had to thank.”
“Ah, guilty.” He chuckles as if my irritation amuses him. “Sorry about your hearing.”
He doesn’t sound sorry at all.
“How do you know my name?” I ask.
He leans back against the bar, completely at ease. “I’m a huge fan of the Eclipse Born series.”
My heart skips. Eclipse Born is my most popular RPG.
“I was totally hooked on parts one, two, and three,” Liam continues, swirling his whiskey. “But when part four came out, and it was total crap, I did some digging to figure out what changed.” He tilts his head, gray eyes bright with amused provocation and, more worryingly, something close to admiration. “And apparently, what changed is that you”—he points a finger at me—“didn’t program that game.”
I try really hard not to be flattered.
Because he’s right. Eclipse Born IV is a pile of crap. They messed up the core values of the world, the new storylines are garbage, and the pacing is off. And I love that without me, the game bombed spectacularly, even if the saga was my most beloved work.
But I’m not about to admit any of that to Liam Rockwood.
“Why did you leave the industry?” he asks, his tone casual but his gaze sharp.
If he looked me up online, he already knows.
“No comment.”
“Are you going back to making video games?”
“No comment.”
His smirk widens. “Is there something you will comment on?”
I finish my Coke in one long gulp and stand, grabbing my phone and shoving it into my pocket.
“Yes,” I say, meeting his eyes. “The Evanses are my friends. And if your family even considers pulling strings to force a foreclosure while they’re down after being hit by a tornado, I’ll take care of whatever payments are due. You won’t get their land.”
I don’t know if I’m overstepping. If Ryder will hate me more for doing this. But if I do nothing, I’ll never forgive myself.
Surprise flickers across Liam’s face, and his smirk falters, jaw setting.
“Has my reputation in town gotten that bad?” he asks, and for the first time, his words aren’t laced with arrogance.
I don’t really know. Ryder only mentioned Liam’s father as being ruthless, and I can’t say how far the apple has fallen from the tree.
“Why don’t you run a focus group and find out?” I shoot back.
He scoffs at that, but has no comeback.
I turn to the bartender. “Can you put the drink on my room tab?”
