Page 27 of Matched with the Playboy Next Door

“You okay?” he asks eventually, glancing at me.

I nod, but it’s a lie. Last night shook me more than I want to admit—not just the snide comments from the townsfolk, but the way Ethan defended me, like it was the easiest thing in the world. Like I mattered.

“Thanks for what you did last night,” I say, my voice quieter than I intended. I stare down at my coffee, unable to look at him when I say it, afraid he’ll see more than I’m ready to admit.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replies. “They were out of line.”

“I’m used to it,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “People always think they know me, but they don’t.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and when I finally look at him, his expression is serious. “Then tell me,” he says. “Help me understand.”

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. But there’s something about the way he’s looking at me—patient, sincere—that makes me want to try.

“My parents died when I was sixteen,” I start, my voice trembling slightly. “It was a car accident. They were coming back from one of those little weekend trips theyalways took. I was supposed to go with them, but I stayed home because of a stupid school project.”

The words feel heavy as they spill out, ones I haven’t said aloud in years. Ethan doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t push. He just listens, his presence steady and grounding.

“Aunt Dotty took me in,” I continue, my hands gripping the mug tightly. “She did her best, but it wasn’t easy. I had to grow up fast—help with bills, run the store, make sure everything stayed afloat. I didn’t have time to grieve. I didn’t have time for anything.”

I pause, the weight of the memories pressing down on me. Ethan shifts closer, his shoulder brushing against mine.

“Riley,” he says softly, and the way he says my name feels like an anchor, holding me steady.

“I guess that’s why I keep people at a distance,” I admit, my voice breaking slightly. “It’s just… easier. Safer. If I don’t let anyone in, I don’t have to feel the weight of losing them. Not again.”

Ethan doesn’t say anything at first, but I can feel him watching me, his gaze warm and unyielding.

“You don’t have to do that forever,” he says finally, his voice low. “You deserve more than that. You deserve to let people in—to have someone who’s there for you, no matter what.”

I blink, my throat tightening as his words sink in. For a moment, I can’t speak, can’t do anything but look at him. There’s something in his eyes—something raw and unguarded—that makesmy chest ache.

Before I can stop myself, I lean in slightly, drawn to the warmth of his presence.

Ethan doesn’t move, doesn’t pull away. His gaze flickers to my lips, and I realize just how close we are. My heart pounds in my chest, every inch of me screaming to close the gap, to give in to the pull between us.

But just as our breaths mingle, the shrill ring of my phone cuts through the air, shattering the moment.

I jerk back, fumbling for my phone as the spell breaks. “Hello?” I answer, my voice shaky.

“Riley, it’s John from the warehouse,” comes the voice on the other end. “We’ve got an issue with the delivery. The new shipment just came in, and there’s a mix-up with the invoices. I need you to come down and sort it out.”

I close my eyes briefly, exhaling through my nose. “All right, I’ll be there soon,” I say, forcing my voice to stay steady.

When I hang up, I glance at Ethan, who’s watching me closely, his expression unreadable. The air between us still feels charged, like the moment we almost had is lingering, refusing to dissipate.

“Work emergency?” he asks, his voice softer now.

“Yeah,” I reply. “Warehouse issue. They need me to fix it.”

He nods, rising to his feet as well. “Need help?”

The offer catches me off guard, and for a moment, I don’t know how to respond. But then I shake my head, managing a small smile. “I’ve got it. Thanks, though.”

Ethan steps back, giving me space, but there’s something in his eyes—something unspoken—that makes me hesitate.

“Ethan,” I start, my voice quieter now. “About earlier…”

He holds up a hand, stopping me. “You don’t have to explain. I get it.”

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