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We don’t need to say anything right now. We don’t need to rush.

This is exactly where we’re meant to be, fitting together like beautiful lyrics and the perfect melody.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

ADDISON

Thesweetscentofstrawberries reaches my nose as soon as I wake up in the morning. At first, I think I’m still dreaming, because I’m pretty sure I was dreaming about picking strawberries with Riley and feeding them to her in the middle of the field. But then I register the tickle of her hair against my bare shoulder where she’s sleeping on me, and I smile.

This is better than a dream.

This is real.

I almost can’t believe it’s real, but it is. After we confessed our feelings yesterday, we fucked enough orgasms out of each other that we both practically passed out. Once we recovered, we realized we hadn’t eaten dinner and were starving, so we trudged downstairs half-naked to throw a frozen pizza in the oven, then we ate it in the kitchen before going back to bed and swiftly falling asleep.

We haven’t gotten a chance to work out the logistics of this relationship yet. If she’s going to move here permanently or split her time between Mayweather and Nashville. If she’s going to livehere, in my house with me, or buy her own much nicer one. Surely, this house isn’t big enough for her, and besides that, it seems awfully fast for us to be living together.

But the thought of having her here with me all the time—of waking upeach morning with her in my bed like this—is pretty amazing. It’s something I never imagined having with another woman again. Something I didn’t think I’dwantagain. Until Riley Rowland showed up in my life wearing a yellow sundress and making it impossible to ignore her. She got my head and my heart all twisted around in what turned out to be the best way.

Now I want every moment I can get with her for as long as she’ll have me.

I believed her when she told me she’s going to figure things out with her career and work out a way to be with me. And I can give her the time to do that. I’m not trying to get in the way of her career. Just knowing that she wants to be with me as much as I want to be with her—that shelovesme like I love her—is enough for the time being.

When I feel her starting to stir in my arms, I lift my head from the pillow to kiss her forehead. She opens her eyes, and the way they immediate fill with happiness when she looks at me makes me feel like the luckiest person in the world.

I give her another forehead kiss, letting my lips linger there an extra moment. “Good morning, beautiful.”

“G’morning,” she mumbles sleepily. “Do we have to get up?”

“Only when you want breakfast. I don’t go into work until this afternoon.”

She curls into me more, wrapping her arm around my middle. “Then let’s stay like this for a while.”

“Anything you want,” I tell her, running my fingers through her hair. I’m pretty sure the arm I have wedged underneath her is asleep, but I couldn’t care less.

As we lie together, I listen to her quiet breathing, and a wave of contentment washes over me. I’m not used to this. Even way back when I thought Christy and I were actually good together, it wasn’t like this. Christy wasn’t a cuddler. Outside of sex, she doled out her affection in small increments like it was a reward I needed to earn.

I never feel that way with Riley. She might not be in a position where she can show her affection for me in public, but when we’re alone, she’s always generous with it. I don’t love the idea of hiding a relationship forever, but I’d choose being with someone who loves me in private over my ex who only kept up loving appearances in public and dropped the act once we were alone.

“What are you thinking about?” Riley asks.

“Nothing.”

“Liar,” she says, but I can practically hear the smile in her voice. She’s not upset about me keeping my thoughts to myself.

I have no intention of bringing up my ex right now to ruin this moment, but I want to give her something, so I say, “I was thinking about how happy you make me.” Because that’s the essential truth of it.

She lifts her head from my shoulder to look at me while staying in my arms. “I was thinking about how happy you make me too. How happy I am to get to be here with you.” She runs a finger across my stomach, circling my bellybutton, and adds, “But I was also thinking about how much being naked with you turns me on.”

Laughing, I tell her, “Sweetheart, you don’t even have to be naked to turn me on.”

“Same,” she confirms. “Even before I fully realized I was bisexual, I couldn’t stop staring at your collarbones... and your hips... and your ass.” As she’s naming body parts, she drags her fingers along them, until she ends up getting her hand underneath my ass and squeezing.

I pull her in for a kiss that lasts much longer than I intended. By the time we stop, we’re lying facing each other with the covers fallen somewhere down by our waists. The AC is blasting cold air on us, and I know I should get up to shut it off, but it’s hard to bring myself to leave the bed.

Riley shivers and murmurs, “I’m chilly.”

Smirking, I dart my hand out and capture her hard nipple, pinching it firmly between my fingers. “I can see that.”