Page 14 of The Scout

“Something like that,” I muttered, adjusting the name tag pinned to my blouse.

Sasha cocked her head, her eyes narrowing with interest. “You’ve been weirdly quiet all day. Spill. Did Will drop some heavy family bomb, or are you just mooning over Mr. Tall, Dark, and Broody?”

I rolled my eyes, heat creeping up my neck. “Neither.”

“Uh-huh.” She drew the words out, her smirk widening. “Come on, Izzy. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice the way Ryker was practically glued to your side in the café. If looks could smolder, the place would’ve gone up in flames.”

“It wasn’t like that,” I protested, though my voice lacked conviction. “He’s just … doing Will a favor.”

Sasha raised an eyebrow, her grin downright devilish. “Oh, honey. That man doesn’t look at you like you’re a favor. He looks at you like you’re a problem he’d very much like to solve.”

I groaned, pressing my hands to my cheeks as if I could cool the blush spreading across them. “Can we not talk about this?”

“Sure,” she said breezily, her tone suggesting the opposite. “But just so you know, if you don’t go for it, I might.”

I shot her a glare, but she laughed, leaning closer. “Seriously, though. What’s the deal? You two have this whole tension thing going on, and don’t even try to deny it. I saw the way you were looking at him.”

“There’s nothing going on,” I said firmly, though the words felt hollow. “He’s … not interested in me like that.”

Sasha snorted. “Girl, you need to give yourself more credit. Men like him don’t waste their time unless they’re interested.”

I wanted to argue, but the words stuck in my throat. Ryker was an enigma—silent, imposing, and completely out of my league. The idea of him being interested in me was absurd. Yet, I couldn’t stop replaying the moments we’d shared, the way his gaze lingered a second too long or how his voice dipped when he spoke my name.

“Let me guess,” Sasha said, breaking into my thoughts again. “You’re thinking about all the reasons it would never work. He’s too cold, too serious, too … what’s the word? Intimidating?”

I didn’t answer, but the look on my face must have been enough, because she let out a triumphant laugh. “Knew it. Izzy, let me give you a little advice. Sometimes, the best things are the ones that scare the hell out of you.”

Her words hung in the air, teasing at the edges of my resolve. She wasn’t wrong. My entire dating history was a series of safe choices, of relationships that were comfortable but lacked spark. Ryker was the antithesis of everything I thought I wanted, and maybe that was exactly why I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Still, the idea of pursuing anything with him felt impossible. He was older, more experienced, and carried himself with a confidence that made me feel like a naivelittle girl in comparison. He probably saw me as a kid—Will’s baby sister who needed watching over, not someone worth noticing.

“I’m not his type,” I said finally, trying to shut the conversation down.

Sasha shrugged, her grin softening into something more sincere. “Maybe. But you’re someone’s type, Izzy. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Her words stayed with me long after she went back to her work, leaving me to finish out my shift in relative silence. I tried to focus on the tasks in front of me, but my thoughts kept drifting, circling back to Ryker.Ugh.

By the time I got home that night after my double shift, I was no closer to sorting out my feelings. Pia was sprawled on the couch with her laptop, barely looking up as I dropped my bag by the door and kicked off my shoes.

“Long day?” she asked, glancing at me over the top of her screen.

“You have no idea,” I muttered, collapsing into the armchair across from her.

She smirked. “Well, at least you’ve got Mr. Bodyguard to keep things interesting.”

Will must have texted her.

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Not you, too.”

“What?” she said innocently. “It’s not every day a brooding billionaire takes an interest in your roommate. I’m just saying, if you don’t want him, I’ll gladly?—”

“Pia,” I interrupted, shooting her a warning look.

She laughed, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But seriously, Izzy. Don’t overthink it. If he’s offering to look out for you, let him. You don’t have to do everything on your own, you know.”

Her words were well-meaning, but they only reminded me of how much I hated feeling dependent on anyone. I’d spent years building a life for myself, working my way through college and landing a job in hospitality—my dream career. I wasn’t about to let anyone, not even Ryker, make me feel like I couldn’t handle things on my own.

As I climbed into bed that night, though, I couldn’t stop the flicker of doubt creeping in. Maybe Pia and Sasha were right. Maybe I was overthinking it. Or maybe Ryker was just doing what he always did—analyzing the situation, finding the safest path forward, and keeping his promises to Will.

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