Chapter 24 Boys, Boys, Boys
The dining hall is filled with its usual chaos, trays clattering, voices rising in swells of gossip and laughter. Noah guides us toward a quieter corner, away from the spotlight. I’m not sure if it’s intentional, or just another one of his oddly considerate tendencies.
He slides into the seat across from me like we do this all the time. I’m halfway through biting into a sandwich when I hear someone behind me.
“There you are,” River says, voice light, like we are in the middle of some casual rom com. “I’ve been looking for you.”
Noah doesn’t even glance up from his tray. “Found her,” he says flatly.
River’s smile freezes, the edges dropping a bit. “Mind if I sit?”
Noah finally looks at him — not irritated, not angry. Just calm. Calm like a warning before a storm. “I do, actually.”
River blinks. “Seriously?”
“Dead serious.”
“I’m not trying to start something,” River says, his voice dipping lower, confused and annoyed. “I just figured—”
Noah cuts him off with a tilt of his head. “You figured you went on one date and that makes you special?”
River flinches slightly but covers it with a snort. “Isobel and I are talking. I didn’t realize she had to check in with you now.”
“She doesn’t,” Noah replies, still maddeningly calm. “But she also doesn’t need you following her around like a puppy.”
“Noah,” I say, voice firm.
He doesn’t look at me. Just says, “This isn’t about your feelings, River. It’s about respect. And if you actually gave a shit about her, you’d give her space.”
River’s jaw tightens. “Right. Because you’re the picture of respectful.”
Noah’s voice drops to a near-whisper. “If we wanted background noise, we’d sit closer to the vending machines.”
River clenches his teeth. “I just wanted to spend time with her.”
“And I’m sure she’ll call you,” Noah says, already turning back to his tray, effectively dismissing him. “Later.”
River looks at me, hurt flickering behind his eyes. I can’t think of what to say.
After a long pause, he walks away.
I exhale, the silence between us suddenly thick.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I say quietly.
Noah doesn’t look up. “Didn’t have to. Still did.”
“Why?”
He taps a finger on the table between us. “Because that guy doesn’t see you. Not really. He sees some idea of you he can put on a shelf.”
“And you think you do?”
“No,” he says. “But I’d like to.”
“But why so brutal? Like you didn’t have to destroy the guy.” I glance over my shoulder, not seeing River anywhere.
“Yes, I did.”
“Why?” I turn back to Noah
He leans forward, voice low, almost too soft. “Because watching him kiss you felt like swallowing broken glass.”
I stare down at my sandwich, appetite gone. The weight of eyes on me still lingers — not just from the surrounding tables, but from the seat across from me. Noah doesn’t say anything else. Just eats, calmly, like he didn’t just dismantle a boy with just a few choice words.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I want to.” He shrugs.
I gape at him. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” I admit, voice low. “It feels like… too much. All of it. Everyone watching. The looks…”
“Because you’re not used to being wanted,” he says with a shrug. “That doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”
“But it feels wrong,” I whisper. “I’m doing something I don’t know how to do.”
Noah leans back, his arms crossed, studying me like I’m a particularly complex puzzle he’s determined to solve. “You don’t know how to be wanted without a price attached.”
That strikes a little too close to home.
“Don’t analyze me,” I grumble, eyes back on my tray.
He smiles, but it’s not mocking. It’s warm. “I’m not. I’m just telling you the truth.”
A pause. Then, casually, “This is dating, Isobel.”
“Huh?”
“This. Awkward meals. Mixed signals. Unspoken tension. Questioning if you’re allowed to like more than one person. Trying to figure out if your ribs hurt because someone punched you during training or because someone kissed you too well the night before.” He smirks. “Dating.”
I let out a shaky breath, unsure if I want to laugh or hide under the table.
“I don’t think I’m cut out for it.”
“You are,” he says, softer now. “You just haven’t figured out how yet. But you will.”
He picks up his juice carton, pops the straw, and takes a slow sip like he didn’t just drop a truth bomb and leave it smoldering on the table between us.
From across the dining hall, Tex’s stare is like a brand on the side of my face. And I don’t even need to look to know Jace is watching too.
Too much attention. Too many possibilities. Too many ways to burn.
I regret turning down the deserted hallway when I see Jace, leaning against the wall.
Fuck. Can’t turn back around now.
I roll my shoulders.
“Surprised to find you alone,” Jace says.
I sigh. I know I shouldn’t respond, but I take the bait anyways. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Thought you’d be soaking up the attention from your little fan club.”
“I don’t have a fan club.” I roll my eyes. “If anything, it’s a smear campaign. You’ve had most people at the school teasing me for weeks.”
“Okay then.” He pushes off the wall, his hands in his pockets. “Your reverse harem.”
He circles me, his finger brushing one of my curls off my shoulder. I suppress a shiver.
“I’ve been told it’s called dating.” I’m proud that my voice comes out even.
“You could call it that.” He shrugs, his heat surrounding me.
Why does this asshole seem to have some sort of effect on me?
“I think you just like spreading your legs for anyone who gives you attention.”
That snaps me right out of it.
I glare at him. “I haven’t spread my legs for anyone. Not that it’s any of your business.”
He stops right in front of me.
“In fact…” I step up closer to him, pressing a finger into his chest. “If anything, you sound concerned someone else might get what you want.”
I can’t help the small smirk that spreads across my face as his jaw flexes, his eyes narrowing.
“I’m not concerned at all,” he bites out.
“But you admit you want me.”
“No.”
“Oh, you’re jealous.” It’s my turn to circle him.
“That’s absurd.” He huffs, it sounds forced.
“You feel threatened?” I smirk.
“Absolutely not,” he snaps.
I hum.
Before I can think, I’m shoved up against a wall.
“What the—”
“Listen here, Ashthorne,” Jace hisses into my face, “I don’t know what game you’re playing at here.
But I’m Jace Ravencourt. I lead, and people follow.
If anyone is threatened in this situation, it certainly is not me.
I’m a man, while you play around with little boys.
You can’t even imagine being with someone like me. ”
I smile. “Sounds like you’re afraid the little boys are winning.”
He scoffs. “They aren’t competition. You’ll get bored of their amateur games, and you’ll crave for a real man to make your legs tremble. And I won’t be interested.”
I press closer to him, smirking as his breath hitches, and position my lips right next to his ear.
“Trust me, I won’t be looking for a man like you.”
I duck under his arm and saunter away. Feeling his stare drill into my back.
I’m halfway down the dorm corridor, just finished my training sessions, lost in thought, when I hear my name.
“Isobel.”
I turn, startled. River stands at the end of the hallway, shoulders tense, jaw tight. He’s ditched his blazer, rolled his sleeves up, and his easygoing smile is nowhere to be seen.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he says, voice low but sharp around the edges.
“What’s wrong?”
His brow furrows, and he closes the distance between us in a few long strides. “What the hell was that at lunch?”
“Lunch—?”
“With Noah.” His hands flex at his sides. “He doesn’t just ask me to leave, Isobel. He humiliated me. In front of everyone.”
I wince. “I didn’t ask him to do that.”
“You didn’t stop him, either.”
That stings, because it’s true. I didn’t. I sat there frozen, trying to play neutral while the floor fell out from under me. Again.
“I didn’t know what to say,” I admit.
River exhales through his nose, looking away for a moment before returning to me with something harder in his eyes. “Is he your boyfriend now? Is that what this is?”
“No,” I say quickly. “I… I don’t know what anything is.”
“Because from where I’m standing,” he says, narrowing his eyes. “It looks like I’ve just been someone to kill time with until the others started noticing you.”
“River, it’s not like that.”
“Then tell me what it is, Isobel.” His voice softens, the anger thinning into something more vulnerable. “Because I like you. I really like you. But I’m not going to fight for someone who doesn’t want to be fought for.”
I look down at my shoes. My hands are shaking, just a little.
“I do want you,” I whisper. “Or… I want to want you.”
River’s face twists in confusion. “What does that even mean?”
“It means I’m messed up,” I say, voice cracking. “I don’t know what I’m doing. It means I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be normal. I’ve never dated anyone, and I’m still learning how to be safe in my own skin, let alone figure out who I want to give pieces of my heart to.”
His expression softens slightly, the edge of anger and hurt dulling. “I’m not asking for all of you. I just want honesty.”
That’s when the weight in my chest turns prickly.
I look up at him. “Then I have to tell you something.”
His brows knit.
“There was… a moment. With Tex.” I feel my stomach lurch as I say it. “He kissed me. It wasn’t planned. It just… happened.”
River steps back like I’ve hit him. “When?”
“After our date,” I say quietly, ashamed. “Right after you dropped me off.”
His mouth opens, then closes. “So, that’s why you were acting weird.”
I nod, unable to meet his eyes.
He scrubs a hand over his face. “And now Noah’s sniffing around too?”
“I’m not leading anyone on,” I say quickly. “I’m confused and trying to make sense of everything and I didn’t expect—any of it. I just… I’m trying to be honest. Like you asked.”
He stares at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “You’re honest,” he says. “But that doesn’t mean this doesn’t hurt.”
“I know.”
He nods, then backs away another step. “Figure out what you want, Isobel. But maybe don’t keep collecting hearts while you’re doing it.”
And then he turns and walks away.
I’m shutting my room’s door when a hand slams against it, stopping it cold.
I jump, heart leaping into my throat.
“Jesus—Tex?” My voice is shrill.
He leans into the doorway, filling the frame with all his muscles and contained rage. His jaw is hard, and his eyes are dark, unreadable.
“Of course.” I roll my eyes. “What do you want?”
“To talk.”
“Why?”
“Because River looked like he wanted to throw something when he left, and you look like you want to disappear.”
I scowl. “That’s none of your business.”
“It became my business the second I kissed you.”
“You mean the kiss you ambushed me with?”
He exhales a sharp breath, straightens up. “You kissed me back.”
My jaw tightens. “Doesn’t mean it meant anything.”
“Liar,” he growls.
The word slices through the space between us. I flinch — because it lands too close to the truth.
I push the door again, but he doesn’t budge. “Move.”
“No.”
“Tex—”
“I’m not letting you walk away as if nothing happened.”
“Why not?” I bite out. “So, you can say I belong to you now? That’s how this works, right? You take, and you claim, and you break things just to see if they’ll still want you after?”
He goes still at that. His gaze drops, lashes brushing his cheekbones. When he looks back up at me, there’s something raw in him — a ripple beneath all the bravado.
“I don’t want to break you,” he says, voice low. “I don’t want you ruined, Isobel. I just…”
I stare at him, breath caught.
“You make me feel something.”
“It’s too late,” I whisper.
He flinches like I hit him. “Is it?”
I don’t answer. I just stand there — staring at the boy who barged into my life like a wrecking ball and is suddenly looking at me like I’m the one who could destroy him.
“I came because I needed to know.”
“Know what?”
“If I imagined it. The way you kissed me back.”
My breath stutters.
He steps forward just enough to close the space between us, but not enough to touch. Not yet.
“Did you feel anything, Isobel?”
My throat constricts. I want to lie. I want to slam the door in his face and pretend it never happened. But I can still feel the ghost of his lips on mine. Still feel the fire he lit.
“I’m trying…” I whisper. “Trying to want something normal. Something easy.”
“Does he make you feel alive?” Tex asks, and suddenly his voice is a raw thing — all gravel and thunder. “Because I know for a fact you make me feel alive.”
My heart is hammering.
“Let me in,” he says, softly.
He waits. And I hate how badly I want to say yes. To everything. To him.
I don’t know why I do but I take a step back, letting him in. Tex doesn’t smile. Doesn’t smirk. He just walks in like he knows he’s crossing over a line.