Page 32 of The One Night Match

“When you’re ready to move into the master with me, I’ll move everything over.”

She nods. “Thanks, Cruz. For everything.”

“Anytime, Kitten.” I force a smile to my lips, but my chest constricts painfully as I reach for the door, intending to close it when I leave. “Yell out if you need anything. Sleep well.”

It takes everything I have in me to close the door and walk to the other end of the hall, leaving my bedroom door open just a fraction in case she decides to join me and giving Asshole the opening he needs to pee in my closet the way he likes to.

It turns out a man like me can be soft—it just takes the right woman to make it happen.

Itoss and turn for hours, unable to turn my mind off.

There are a million things running through my brain, and none of them are allowing me the rest I need after an emotionally charged few days.

Once I’m certain I’m not going to be able to sleep, I slip out of bed and walk down the hallway, pausing outside Riley’s bedroom door.

I shouldn’t peek inside. It would be an invasion of privacy, and it might make her less likely to want to try this thing for real.

But my need to see her wins out.

I push the door open slowly, watching her from the doorway for a few minutes, eyes locked on the way her chest rises and falls in gentle movements.

She looks so peaceful in her sleep, like she doesn’t have a single care in the world. But I know that’s not the case.

My poor kitten is plagued with the weight of the expectations of others, and I long to carry that load for her, to give her the space to be whoever the fuck she wants to be.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I cross the room and carefully slip beneath the covers on the other side of the bed to her.

I won’t stay long. I’ll take my fill of watching her sleep, and then I’ll go back to my room.

Just a few minutes should be enough.

FIFTEEN

RILEY

Waking up has never been a problem for me.

I’ve always been a morning person, and my body clock consistently wakes me up before the sun can rise, no matter how late I go to bed or how tired I am.

But considering how bright the room is, I clearly needed more rest than usual.

I move to roll over, reaching for my phone on the bedside table, but press into a hard chest instead.

My eyes shoot open and meet Cruz’s dark eyes, his lips curved up in a sleepy smile, as if his being here is normal and expected behavior.

“What the fuck?” The screech I let out makes me cringe as I scramble off the edge of the bed and trip over the sheets, sending myself toppling to the ground in a rather spectacular display of coordination. Or lack thereof.

Mr. Whiskers lets out a quiet meow, as if all the noise I’m making is offending him, and I notice where he’s snoozing at the end of the bed.

“You okay down there, Kitten?” Cruz asks as he desperately tries to stop himself from laughing. He hangs his head overthe edge of the bed, his dark brow raised as he waits for my response.

“I’m fine. Now what the hell are you doing in here? And how long have you been here?”

Cruz climbs off the mattress in front of me, running his hands down his sculpted chest and abs, his tattoos winding dark paths over his skin in the morning light.

Sweet baby Jesus, this man is sexy as sin.

He holds a hand out to me, and I take it begrudgingly, allowing him to tug me up, which is the exact moment I remember I slept naked last night.