Page 20 of Matched with the Playboy Next Door

She holds my gaze for a long time, and for a brief moment, I think maybe she’s letting her guard down. But then she looks away, the walls going back up in an instant.

“Thanks, I guess,” she says, her voice stiffening again. “But I don’t need saving, Ethan.”

I take a step back, feeling the space between us widen once more. “I’m not trying to save you, Riley. I’m just trying to prove that not everyone walks away.”

The silence lingers, heavy and unresolved, as she turns to head back inside.

“You’ve still got that wall up, haven’t you?” I call after her, not in frustration, but because I can’t help myself.

She pauses at the door, glancing back at me with an unreadable expression. “It’s safer that way,” she says quietly before stepping inside.

I stand there for a moment, my chest tight with the weight of her words. She’s right—those walls are her shield, but they’re also her prison. And for a fleeting second, I wonder if she even realizes it.

There’s something there—a moment of connection I didn’t expect—and yet, here we are, back to square one.

I exhale slowly, running a hand through my hair. Riley hasn’t made any of this easy, nor will she. But whatever this is between us, I know I’m not giving up on it just yet.

CHAPTER 8

RILEY

Itoss and turn in bed, the soft rustling of the sheets mingling with the sound of the wind outside. The conversation with Ethan from earlier tonight keeps replaying in my head—his words, his tone, that sincerity I couldn’t ignore. I can still feel the weight of the moment, like something shifted between us, but I can’t tell if it’s a good shift or if I’ve just made things harder for myself.

I don’t know why he gets under my skin. It’s not like he’s doing anything wrong. Maybe that’s the problem—he’s trying too hard to be good, and it’s throwing me off.

I close my eyes, trying to drown out the thoughts, but they keep coming. What did he mean when he said I put up walls? Was he right? The thought makes my chest tighten, and I hate how much space he’s taking up in my head.

I don’t want to admit it, but I can’t help myself. Maybe I did judge him too soon. He’s a playboy, sure, but he’s also been trying—really trying—to fit in here. I’ve started seeing a different side of him since that first interaction. And maybe that was just me being rude, refusing to give someone a chance.

It’s strange. I’ve spent all this time thinking of him as just another flashy city guy who would never understand the quiet life here, who’d only stay until the next big opportunity called him back. But lately? I don’t know… he’s been different. Since he arrived, he hasn’t been involved in any scandal. No flashy headlines, no drama—nothing that screams “look at me” like I thought he would. Maybe he’s not as bad as I thought.

I roll onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. It doesn’t make sense. All this time avoiding him, trying to keep him at arm’s length… It’s like I was the one keeping the wall up, not him.

“Get it together, Riley,” I mutter to myself. This is ridiculous.

But then I can’t help but think about how he smiled at me on the porch. How he seemed to listen, really listen to what I said, how he remembered my love of my mother’s garden. How, for a second, I felt like we weren’t just strangers or neighbors—like we were… I don’t know, something more.

I kept my distance because it felt safer. But now… now I’m not so sure. Maybe I’ve been wrong about him. The idea unsettles me more than it should.

The attraction’s been growing, and I can’t deny it anymore. I feel it when he looks at me, when he talks to me, even when he teases me. He’s charming and confident in a way that’s hard to ignore, but it’s more than that. There’s a sincerity underneath it all.

But then reality comes crashing back in. Ethan might have a good heart, but he’s still a guy who’s been with more models than I can count and lived in a world where looks and status are everything. Would he even want someone like me?

I sit up in bed, tugging my knees to my chest. I’m nothing like the women he’s dated. I’ve seen the kind of women he’s dated. Polished, perfect, larger-than-life. I’m just me—a small-town hardware store owner with dirt under my nails and jeans that have seen better days. And maybe that’s enough. Or maybe it’s not. I don’t know.

Would he even notice someone like me?

I run a hand through my hair, frustrated with myself. I don’t know what I want from him—or this town, for that matter. But I do know one thing: I don’t want to let myself fall into something that will disappoint me in the end. Ethan’s world and mine couldn’t be more different. I know that.

But why does it feel like that difference is what makes him so hard to resist?

I shake my head, pushing the covers off and getting out of bed. I need to stop overthinking this before it drives me crazy. I’ve got enough on my plate already with the store, with Aunt Dotty, with my own life. The last thing I need is to be distracted by someone like Ethan.

So, I decide then—tomorrow, I’m back to avoiding him. I’ll just keep my distance. It’s simpler that way, isn’t it? He’s just a guy who moved into the house next door. He’s probably not here to stay. And even if he is, it doesn’t matter. I don’t need any distractions.

But as I stand by the window, looking out at the quiet streets of Bardstown, a small part of me wonders if avoiding him will really make things easier.

When I arrive at the park for the town charity event, I see Mia already talking to Aunt Dotty by the stage, a clipboard in hand and a massive grin on her face. The banners are up, the chairs are set, and everything looks way more organized than I expected.

---