Episode 6: Are We Doing This Or Not?

Ryú sat casually on the exam table, long legs stretched out slightly, devastatingly handsome in an effortless way that should have irritated her more than it did.

At first, confidence rested easily on him.

He had planned this moment carefully.

But then he saw it.

It flashed across Nari’s face instantly.

Recognition.

Attraction.

Irritation.

And then—

That mask.

The one she hid behind when she was hurt.

Ryú felt his confidence slip almost immediately.

Slowly, he held out the golden glass dragon toward her.

Nari couldn’t believe what she had just walked into.

And the nurses knew. Of course they knew. Who else would have been able to set this up?

Of all the arrogant, ridiculous, manipulative things—

Then she saw the dragon.

Gold.

Glass.

Beautiful.

And suddenly realization hit her all at once.

The flowers.

The fairy figurines.

The mermaids.

The tea.

The movies.

The gifts.

It hadn’t been Kai.

It had been Ryú.

Every. Single. One. Of them.

Her eyes lowered to the dragon still resting carefully in his hands.

And suddenly this gift felt different from all the others.

He was giving this to her directly.

Accepting this would mean something entirely different.

She knew it.

And apparently…

So did he.

Because when Ryú saw the hesitation in her eyes, some of his polished confidence left him.

“No expectations,” he said quietly. “I promise.”

His fingers tightened imperceptibly around the dragon before he continued.

“I just wanted to apologize.”

His voice softened further.

“I never meant to deceive you.”

Nari raised one eyebrow and just stared at him.

“I didn’t know Kai never told you exactly who I was.” His mouth twitched faintly.

Sorry, Kai. I really have to throw you under the bus on this one, he thought.

Despite herself, Nari almost smiled, because she knew that was exactly why Kai didn’t tell her.

Almost.

“He didn’t tell me until afterwards what happened,” Ryú continued gently. “Or why you reacted that way.”

The moment the words left his mouth, he saw it and wished he hadn’t said them.

Humiliation.

Pain.

Both flashed openly across her face before she could stop them.

Her cheeks paled slightly on a sharp inhalation.

Ryú straightened immediately.

“No— no, please don’t look like that.” His voice dropped softer. “I’m not blaming him.  Or the situation.”

Nari’s eyes darted away.

“He was just trying to explain things,” she said quietly. “Kai worries too much.  I’m fine.”

A small huff of amusement escaped Ryú before he could stop it.

“Worried is not exactly what I would call it.  He’s…been tearing himself apart for days.”

That pulled her eyes back to him immediately.

“Arjun actually sent him home Thursday because he started waxing tragic prose during a client presentation for a skincare campaign.”

Nari blinked.

A startled laugh escaped her before she could stop it.

Small.

Soft.

Real.

Ryú felt something unclench painfully inside his chest at the sound.

His expression turned rueful.

“Thank God the executives found it emotionally moving instead of deeply concerning. We somehow ended up with that contract and two additional ones.”

“That’s Kai,” Nari murmured, shaking her head affectionately.

Silence settled between them again.

Not uncomfortable.

Just uncertain.

Her gaze drifted back down to the dragon he still held toward her.

Beautiful.

Fragile.

Offered carefully.

Hopefully.

Like her acceptance mattered.

More than his pride.

Slowly…

Tentatively…

Nari reached for it.

Her fingers brushed his briefly as she took the dragon into her hands. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

She held it reverently, almost afraid she might break it.

Or what it represented.

Ryú watched her carefully.

“Please forgive us?” he asked softly.

Not me.

Us.

Because he understood now.

Kai and Nari had always protected each other.

Even when angry, hurt, or feeling betrayed, they still loved and protected one another.

Nari searched his eyes for several long seconds.

Looking for deception.

Expectation.

Pressure.

Any deception.

She found none.

Only sincerity.

Only hope.

Very carefully, she scrutinized the man and the dragon in her hand.

She rubbed the glass dragon’s head, then looked up at him.

And for the first time since she walked away from him…

Ryú allowed himself to breathe.

• • •

“I’d like to start over… if we can.”

Ryú’s voice had lost all of its earlier cocky confidence.

Not weak.

Just honest.

“I really did enjoy our time together.” His eyes held hers steadily. “There were—and are—no expectations. No promises. Just two people meeting, talking, enjoying each other’s company.”

A faint, almost self-conscious smile touched his mouth.

“Can we do that?”

Nari said nothing immediately.

She simply stood there, softly rubbing the golden dragon’s head as she studied him with quiet intensity.

Weighing him.

Testing him.

Trying to decide whether this man standing in front of her was genuine… or simply very good at appearing genuine.

Finally, she spoke softly.

“You did all this?”

Her gaze flicked toward the exam room around them before lowering to the dragon.

“The flowers. The gifts. Coming here.” She looked back at him carefully. “All this just to say you were sorry?”

There was no accusation in her voice.

That somehow made it worse.

“Why?” she asked quietly. “You didn’t know me. You didn’t owe me anything.”

Ryú went still.

Because instinctively he understood this moment mattered.

His answer mattered.

Maybe more than anything else so far.

“I know,” he admitted softly.

“But I didn’t like hurting you.”

The honesty of it settled between them.

Ryú exhaled quietly before continuing.

“I pride myself on being straightforward. It’s how I handle everything in my life. Business. Relationships. Problems.” His expression turned faintly rueful. “Ambiguity creates misunderstandings. I’d rather avoid that happening between us.”

He saw one of her brows lift slightly at the word us.

Ryú continued anyway.

“At the very least… I hope we can become friends.”

His gaze softened.

“I think you would be a valuable friend to have.”

The second both of her eyebrows rose, Ryú knew immediately he had stepped directly into something unfortunate.

He just had absolutely no idea what.

Nari tilted her head slowly.

“So it’s the value of what this friendship can bring to you that matters?”

Ryú blinked once.

“That’s not what I—”

“Friendship isn’t supposed to be dependent on value, Mr. Alexander.”

The formal title hit him like a slap.

Ryú visibly cringed.

God, he was beginning to hate hearing her call him that.

Nari watched him quietly.

“What value exactly are you expecting from this friendship, Mr. Alexander? Just so we are on the same page.”

He cringed again.

It felt worse this time.

“Ryú,” he corrected immediately. “Please.”

Nari remained unconvinced.

He rubbed a hand across his face before sighing.

“That didn’t come out right at all, did it?”

When she simply stared at him, one corner of his mouth finally lifted.

Then, unexpectedly, Ryú laughed softly at himself.

Low.

Warm.

Entirely genuine.

“I sound like I’m proposing a corporate merger instead of offering my friendship.”

That startled a smile out of her before she could stop it.

Encouraged, Ryú shook his head lightly.

“What I meant was…” He paused, picking his words more carefully this time. “Some people drain your life when they enter it.”

His expression softened as he looked at her.

“And some people make it better simply by existing in it.”

The room went still.

“I think,” he said gently, “you’re probably the second kind.”

Nari’s breath caught slightly before she looked away quickly.

And for the first time since walking into that exam room…

the mask slowly slipped from her face.

• • •

Nari laughed softly to herself, lowering her gaze briefly before looking back up at him through her lashes.

“Nice save, Mr.—” she paused deliberately, watching him tense, “—Ryú,” she said softly.

The way she said his name nearly undid him.

“One cannot place a value on true friendship,” she continued quietly. “It’s either worth your time… your loyalty… your love…”

Her fingers traced lightly over one of the dragon’s delicate golden wings as she looked back down.

“Or it isn’t.”

Ryú listened carefully, studying her with an intensity that would have unnerved most people.

But not Nari.

She tilted her head slightly.

“It’s really that simple.”

Then her eyes lifted fully to his.

Warm brown meeting storm-dark silver.

And suddenly the room felt far too small.

“Are you worth my time, Ryú?”

There it was.

Not flirtation.

Not teasing.

A genuine question.

One wrapped in old hurts, quiet disappointments, and smashed hopes.

Ryú felt the weight of it settle directly into his chest.

Because instinctively he understood what she was truly asking.

Will you enrich my life… or leave me emotionally bankrupt?

Will you take more than you give?

Will I regret letting you close?

For once in his life, Ryú Wei Lóng Alexander answered without the thought of loss or gain.

Unguarded.

Without polish.

Without charm.

“I honestly don’t know yet.”

The admission startled both of them.

“But…” He exhaled softly, eyes never leaving hers. “I know I would like the chance to prove to you that I am.”

Nari’s expression shifted slightly.

Something gentler flickered in her eyes.

More vulnerable.

Noticing, Ryú continued quietly.

“I don’t think people should promise things they haven’t earned the right to promise yet or have any intention of keeping.”

The honesty in those words hit her harder than some grand declaration would have.

“I won’t give dramatic vows,” he said softly. “I won’t pretend I know exactly where this will lead.”

One corner of his mouth lifted faintly.

“I just know that when you walked away from me…”

His voice lowered.

“…I hated it.”

Silence filled the room again.

But this time it felt different.

Warmer.

Lighter.

Alive.

Nari looked down at the dragon in her hands again, buying herself a moment to steady her suddenly uneven heartbeat.

“You really are dangerous,” she murmured softly.

Ryú blinked once.

“Dangerous?”

A tiny smile tugged at her mouth.

“You say emotionally intelligent things seconds after accidentally sounding like a corporate acquisition lawyer stuck in litigation.”

To his complete horror, Ryú could see exactly what she meant.

Ryú actually laughed.

Full and genuine this time.

The sound wrapped around her warmly, unexpectedly intimate.

“Oh, that’s bad,” he admitted. “That’s very bad.”

“It was terrible.”

“I panicked.”

“You absolutely panicked.”

“I did,” he said ruefully.

Nari shook her head slowly, smiling despite herself.

And Ryú realized with quiet astonishment that this—

this right here—

felt better than every gift he bought her combined.

• • •

She studied him for another long moment.

Really studied him.

As though weighing not only the man sitting in front of her…

but the risk of allowing him close again.

Then slowly—

she smiled.

Genuinely.

And Ryú felt it like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

Warmth.

Life.

Something terrifyingly close to hope … and something else—his brain wouldn’t formulate what.

But…

God.

This woman was dangerous to his well-being.

To his sanity.

To every carefully controlled part of his existence.

And he would be damned if he didn’t want it anyway.

“Okay, Ryú,” she said softly. “I’ll give you another chance.”

The breath he hadn’t realized he was holding rushed out of him all at once.

A slow, devastating grin spread across his face before he could stop it.

And Nari’s stomach promptly dropped somewhere near her knees.

Dear God.

That smile…

It should have some type of federal clearance regulations attached to it.

He is going to be incredibly dangerous to my heart, she thought helplessly.

Ryú leaned forward slightly, hope flickering openly across his features now.

“May I call you tomorrow?”

“To make plans?”

The carefulness in the question touched her more than she wanted to admit.

Nari just smiled at him.

“Tomorrow sounds great, Ryú.”

Hearing his name on her lips again caused his heart to flip. God, he didn’t know what he was going to do if he reacted this way every time she said it.

Ryú felt his entire nervous system short-circuit.

When he answered, his voice came out slightly huskier than before.

“I’ll call you tomorrow then.”

It could not come soon enough.

Nari nodded softly.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Still clutching the golden dragon carefully in her arms, she turned and opened the exam room door.

Only to find nearly half the clinic staff suddenly pretending they had urgent business elsewhere.

Folders shuffled.

Computers clicked aggressively.

One nurse nearly walked directly into a wall trying to look innocent.

Nari blinked.

Slowly.

“…Seriously?”

Several people scattered immediately.

Except Tessa.

Tessa remained exactly where she was at the nurses’ station, leaning shamelessly against the counter with the grin of a woman who knew she was witnessing premium entertainment.

Her eyes darted between Nari and Ryú knowingly.

Then to the dragon in Nari’s arms.

Then back to Nari.

“Oh my God,” Tessa whispered dramatically. “You kept him.”

Nari’s face instantly flamed.

Behind her, Ryú looked entirely too pleased with himself.

Which only made the situation worse.