Chapter Three AlexeiI wake to the unfamiliar sounds of someone cooking in my kitchen—the sizzle of bacon in a pan, dishes clinking together. It’s an unusual but not unwelcome sound. I’ve lived alone for the past eight years, ever since I graduated from college and went pro. Smiling, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand.
The morning erection tenting my boxers will need to be dealt with, but now isn’t the time. Instead, I head into the bathroom and brush my teeth while I wait for it to deflate. Then I throw on some athletic shorts and a white T-shirt, and make my way into the kitchen.
Ryleigh’s hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun. Without the makeup she wore last night, she looks even younger. She’s barefoot in my kitchen, singing the lyrics to some pop song that’
