Noises from the kitchen wake me up. Riven must be an early bird.
I didn't sleep much last night—especially not after the charged moment between us. I can't lie to myself. The attraction I feel toward him is undeniable, overwhelming. I struggle not to make it obvious every time he gets close.
As I step into the kitchen, I find him cooking, shirtless. His damp hair clings to his forehead, and a towel is loosely tied around his waist.
He looks good—no, breathtaking. Maybe even more so than usual.
His physique is imposing, muscles packed so tightly he could be carved from stone.
"Hi," I murmur.
He turns, flashing me a bright smile.
"Good morning." His voice is warm. "Are you ready for the visit to the orphanage?"
I nod hesitantly.
*Ready* is a big word.