Chapter 3
3
ISABEL
“ T hat sucked,” I said dramatically as I burst through the door of my apartment and tossed my clutch onto an easy chair.
No response.
I sighed, kicking off my heels and rolling my shoulders, trying to shake off the tension from the night. The air inside was thick, warmer than it should have been, and just as I was about to call out for my roommate, Pia Paige, a sound filtered through the apartment—one that made me freeze mid-step.
A rhythmic, breathy moan.
“Oh—fuck, Ben?—”
My face went hot. No, no, no.
The sounds only got louder. The distinct creak of Pia’s bed, the low rumble of her boyfriend’s voice, the breathless gasps that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.
I clamped a hand over my mouth, mortified.
It wasn’t the first time Pia had brought Ben over— hell, he practically lived here—but they usually kept it behind closed doors. Apparently, not tonight.
Moving fast, I inched toward my bedroom, hoping to make it there before?—
“Oh, God, yes?—”
Nope. Nope. Nope.
I slammed my door shut behind me, pressing my back against it, eyes squeezed shut like that would somehow erase what I’d just walked into. My heart was pounding—part from secondhand embarrassment, part from the fact that I had zero experience with anything remotely close to what Pia and Ben were doing.
Sure, I’d kissed guys. Had a few fumbling, forgettable moments in college. But that? The kind of raw, uninhibited need I’d just overheard?
I didn’t know that. I wasn’t that.
I could still hear them. Less now, muffled by the thin walls, but enough that I knew they weren’t stopping. I buried my face in my hands, debating my options. I could blast music, leave the apartment, or die of sheer mortification.
Before I could decide, a sharp knock sounded against my door.
“Izzy?” Pia’s voice was high-pitched, sheepish.
I sighed. “You realize your door is wide open, right?”
A long pause. Then—“Shit.”
I heard hurried whispers, movement, the rustling of sheets, a door finally slamming shut. I dropped onto my bed, shaking my head, my face still burning. Of course, this was my life.
A minute later, my door creaked open. I peeked up to see Pia standing there, flushed and disheveled, wearing one of Ben’s t-shirts .
She winced as she piled her long blonde hair into a knot. “So, um … how much did you hear?”
I shot her a flat look.
She groaned, covering her face. “Oh my God. Kill me now.”
“You should be apologizing to me,” I muttered, grabbing my pillow and hugging it to my chest.
“I know, I know.” She sighed dramatically, then plopped onto the edge of my bed. “To be fair, I didn’t know you’d be home so early.”
I rolled my eyes. “That doesn’t make it better.”
She grinned. “No, but it makes it understandable.”
I groaned, flopping onto my back. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” She nudged me. “So, tell me—how was Dominion Hall?”
I exhaled, staring at the ceiling. “Fancy. Intimidating. Full of men who probably have offshore accounts and kill people for sport.”
Her eyes widened. “Hot.”
I snorted. “Not the word I’d use.”
“Did you meet anyone interesting?”
I hesitated. One name flickered through my mind.
Ryker.
The way he’d watched me. The way he’d stood between me and the dark, like he was the only thing keeping it at bay.
My stomach twisted. Nope . Not thinking about that.
Pia narrowed her eyes. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“That look. You just made a face.”
I shook my head, sitting up. “You’re imagining things.”
She grinned. “Izzy, did you meet a man?”
“No,” I said too fast .
Pia gasped. “Oh my God, you did. Who is he?”
“No one.”
“Liar.”
I groaned, rubbing my temples. “Fine. His name is Ryker Dane, and he’s?—”
I hesitated. What exactly was he?
Will’s friend. A former soldier. The kind of man who looked at me like he already knew what I tasted like.
“He’s … intense,” I finished.
Pia wiggled her eyebrows. “Intense how?”
“Intense like I don’t think he has normal human emotions,” I muttered. “Like he could break a man’s spine with one hand and not blink. Not to mention, he has a snake.”
Pia looked positively delighted.
“Izzy.” She grabbed my hands. “Are you telling me you finally met a man who isn’t a safe, predictable, workaholic humanitarian?”
I glared. “I like humanitarian guys.”
“No, you tolerate humanitarian guys.” She waved a hand. “But this? This is interesting.”
I groaned, shoving a pillow over my face. Because the worst part? She wasn’t entirely wrong. Ryker Dane wasn’t a man I should be thinking about.
As I lay there, listening to Pia’s muffled giggles, I already knew it was too late. I was thinking about him. And I wasn’t sure if I wanted to stop.
My phone buzzed against the comforter.
I ignored it at first, too busy glaring at Pia, who was still grinning like she’d just uncovered my deepest, darkest secret. But then the second buzz came, insistent.
I sighed, reaching for it. My stomach did a strange little flip when I saw the name on the screen.
Unknown Number .
I hesitated. Probably spam. Or a wrong number. Or?—
I swiped to answer, putting it on speaker. “Hello?”
A pause. Then?—
“Did you make it home?”
My breath caught. Oh. Oh no.
I sat up, gripping the phone tighter. “Uh—who is this?”
Silence. Then, that voice again. Low, rough, effortlessly controlled.
“Ryker.”
Oh, God.
Pia shot up from my bed like a bloodhound catching a scent, eyes going wide as she mouthed, No fucking way.
I cleared my throat, forcing my voice to stay normal. “How did you get my number?”
“Will.”
Of course. I should’ve known. Overprotective big brother strikes again.
Ryker didn’t say anything else, just let the silence stretch, like he wasn’t in any rush to fill it. Like he was content letting me squirm.
I shifted under the weight of it, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear even though he couldn’t see me.
“Well,” I said, trying to sound casual, “I’m alive. No kidnappings, no assassins waiting outside my door. I think I’m good.”
Another pause.
Then—“I wouldn’t be so sure.”
A chill ran down my spine, but not from fear. No, this was something else.
I swallowed. “Excuse me?”
“You walk through the world too soft, Isabel.” His voice dipped lower, edged with something that shouldn’t have made my stomach flip. “One day, someone’s going to notice.”
I exhaled, ignoring the warmth creeping up my neck. He was messing with me. Probably trying to scare me, keep me in line like he did with everyone else.
I rolled my eyes. “Are you always this dramatic?”
“Not dramatic,” he said, his tone so steady it sent a ripple through my chest. “Just observant.”
Pia gripped my arm, her expression feral.
I shot her a please chill look, but she didn’t budge.
“So,” I said, attempting to take back some control, “is this what you do? Call women late at night just to warn them about vague, non-specific threats?”
“Only when they don’t listen.”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Because I had no idea what to say to that.
Ryker wasn’t flirting, not exactly. He wasn’t sweet-talking or charming or playing games. But somehow, the way he spoke—low, controlled, steady as a pulse—felt more intimate than any compliment I’d ever received.
Like he already knew how I’d react.
Like he enjoyed it.
I exhaled. “Well. Thanks for the warning, I guess.”
“Get some sleep, Isabel.”
A click.
The line went dead.
I stared at my phone, my brain struggling to catch up.
Pia made a strangled noise before launching herself onto the bed. “What the hell was that?”
I blinked at her. “A phone call?”
“That was not a phone call. That was the single most sexually charged thing I have ever witnessed! ”
I groaned, flopping backward. “It was not.”
“His voice,” she practically moaned. “That gravelly, deep, possessive—‘Get some sleep, Isabel.’” She mimicked, dropping her voice an octave.
I covered my face. “Stop.”
“I will not.” She sat cross-legged, bouncing slightly. “Babe, if I were you, I would be all over that.”
I peeked at her between my fingers. “You have a boyfriend.”
“And?” She grinned. “I can still appreciate when a man is criminally hot.”
I exhaled, shaking my head. “You’re impossible.”
She flopped onto her stomach beside me, kicking her legs up. “You like him.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You want to see him again.”
“No, I don’t.”
She smirked. “You’re thinking about him right now.”
I clamped my mouth shut.
She cackled, rolling onto her side. “Izzy. This is happening.”
“It’s not happening,” I insisted, shaking my head. “Even if I wanted it to, which I don’t, Ryker is—he’s not like that. He’s …” I trailed off.
Pia waggled her eyebrows. “Intense?”
I hesitated. Too intense. Too sharp, too calm, too in control. But also—too much in my head.
Because long after Pia drifted off to sleep, long after my apartment settled into quiet, his voice was still there.
Low. Rough. Dangerous.
Get some sleep, Isabel.
I rolled onto my side, pulling the blanket higher, pressing my thighs together against the warmth curling low in my stomach .
I hated that I wanted to hear it again.
And the craziest part—he had been there for years.
Ryker wasn’t just some stranger I’d met at a party. I’d known him since I was a kid. He was Will’s best friend, the one who was always there but never really there. Quiet. Watchful. The kind of man who faded into the background until he wanted to be noticed—and then you couldn’t look away.
I’d spent years not existing to him. And that had been fine. Expected. Will and his friends were older, untouchable, operating in a world I had no part in.
I never once thought Ryker would see me.
Not the way he had tonight. Not the way his voice still lingered in my head, wrapping around me like something I couldn’t escape. And definitely not in a way that made me wonder what it would feel like if he ever touched me.