I woke the next morning around eight.
I would’ve freaked, but Ryan rolled over, put his arm over me, and tugged me in for a side-hug. “No one’s here,” he murmured. “Trust me. We’re good.”
He was right. Even two hours later, the latest I allowed us to sleep, no one was around.
“My dad golfs on Saturdays.”
“What about your mom? Peach?”
He yawned, raking a hand through his hair as he padded to the bathroom. “Mom’s probably sleeping. Her book club doesn’t mess around. When they drink, they drink.” I heard the shower turn on, and he yelled over it, “And gossip. They wine hard and gossip hard.”
I stood, edging to the opened door. I almost gulped, but he didn’t seem to care. This was a different level of intimacy. Then again, maybe it was because we’d slept together. Yeah. That was it. Eith
