Page 41 of Matched with the Playboy Next Door

Dotty chuckles, setting her teacup down. “Well, you caught us. But I’d say it was worth it, wouldn’t you?”

My chest tightens at the memory of the store, of Ethan’s heartfelt apology, and the way his words chipped away at the walls I’ve spent years building.

“Yeah,” I admit softly, sinking onto the couch beside Mia.

Mia sets the magazine aside, her grin widening. “He really went all out, you know. The planning, the people, the sheer effort. That man was determined to get it right.”

Aunt Dotty nods in agreement. “He wasn’t just doing it for the store, Riley. He was doing it for you. Because he cares.”

Their words sink in, and I feel a swirl of emotions that’s impossible to untangle. Guilt. Fear. Gratitude. Butmost of all, hope.

For so long, I’ve told myself that running was safer, that letting people in would only lead to more loss. But Ethan’s different—he hasn’t just said he’s staying; he’s shown me. And maybe, for once, it’s worth risking my heart to see where this could go.

And I realize, sitting here in Aunt Dotty’s cozy living room, that I’m tired of running.

Without thinking, I shoot to my feet.

“Where are you going?” Mia asks, sitting up straighter.

“I need to do something,” I say quickly, already heading for the door.

Aunt Dotty exchanges a look with Mia, but neither of them stops me.

The cool evening air hits my face as I cross the street, my heart pounding in my chest. By the time I reach Ethan’s door, I feel like I’m going to burst.

I knock once, then twice, shifting from foot to foot as I wait. A moment later, the door swings open, and there he is, standing there in nothing but sweatpants slung low on his hips and a towel in one hand.

My breath catches. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter under my breath, but I can’t look away.

He’s fresh out of the shower, his hair damp and sticking to his forehead, water droplets sliding down his bare chest.

“Riley?” he asks, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“I—” My words catch in my throat, and I shake my head, trying to remember why I’m here. “Can I… come in?”

His concern deepens, but he steps aside, gesturing for me to enter. “Of course.”

I step inside, the warmth of the house washing over me as he closes the door. The sound of it clicking shut feels louder than it should, and for a moment, all I can hear is my own shallow breathing. I look up at him, and I catch the way his jaw tightens, like he’s bracing himself for whatever I’m about to say.

“Are you okay?” Ethan asks, his voice careful, his eyes scanning my face for answers.

I nod, though it’s a lie. “No,” I say, the word slipping out before I can stop it. His expression softens immediately, the tension in his shoulders easing—but I can see the quiet worry lingering there, too, like he’s holding his breath.

“No?” he repeats, his voice careful.

I take a deep breath, the words rushing to the surface like a flood I can’t hold back. “I’m not okay, Ethan. Because I’ve been running away. From you. From us. And I can’t do it anymore.”

His expression shifts, something flickering in his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything. He just stands there, watching me like he’s afraid to move.

“I’ve been holding back because I was scared,” I continue, my voice trembling. “Because letting people in—trusting them—it’s hard for me. It’s always been hard. And I’ve convinced myself for so long that it’s better to be alone than to risk getting hurt again. Butyou—” I pause, my throat tightening as I look up at him. “You make me want to try.”

Ethan takes a small step closer, his bare feet soundless against the hardwood floor. His hand flexes at his side, like he’s fighting the urge to reach for me. “Riley?—”

“I know I’ve been unfair to you,” I say, cutting him off. “I know I’ve pushed you away when all you’ve ever done is try to show me that you care. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The words hang between us, heavy and raw, and for a moment, I think he’s not going to respond. But then he takes another step closer, his eyes soft and full of something I can’t quite name. His expression shifts, a flicker of relief breaking through the storm of emotion in his eyes.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he says softly, his voice steady. “You’ve been through so much, Riley. All I want is for you to let me be here for you. Let me in.”

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