Riley stood in front of Alistair’s apartment door, shifting from foot to foot as she waited for him to let her in. It was barely 8 a.m., and she hadn’t even had her coffee yet. The baby monitor in her hand and the diaper bag slung over her shoulder made her feel like she was auditioning for a role she hadn’t signed up for.
When the door finally opened, Alistair stood there, looking far too awake for someone who had been up late with a baby. His tousled hair gave him a rugged charm, and Riley had to remind herself that she was here for Sam, not to admire her neighbor.
“You’re early,” Alistair said, stepping aside to let her in.
“You’re welcome,” Riley shot back, dumping the bag on the couch. “Where’s the little one?”
“She’s still asleep,” Alistair said, gesturing toward the bedroom. “Fi
