I swallowed the hard lump in my throat. “Thanks. If you could hold him, I’ll make him a bottle, then put him to bed. We’re both tired.”

River stared down at me for a long time, his hands reaching out to take the baby. He was assessing me, that much was obvious. I just didn’t know if he found me wanting or not.

So instead, I went through the process that had become such an ingrained routine that I could do it half-asleep. Literally.

By the time the bottle was ready, River was nowhere to be seen. I walked into the living room, and Rigby lifted his chin. “He went to get him ready for bed.” The giant stood, ambling over to me and wrapping me in a hug. “I’m happy you’re here.”

He still had no shirt on.

I tried to think of any other person in the last three months who’d hugged me just because they wanted to, and not because I needed it. Chloe wasn’t a hugger, though she did hold me when I cried. Rita wasn’t a hugger either, but they both expressed their affections in other ways.

Rigby was one hundred percent touchy-feely. If I was sane—which, considering I’d moved myself and my infant in with a bunch of strangers, was up for debate—I’d be uncomfortable being this close to a guy I barely knew. But instead, I let myself lean into his warmth, into his strength, and allowed my whole body to relax for the first time in months. I let someone else shoulder my weight, just for a moment, and closed my eyes.

Rigby didn’t speak, didn’t loosen his grip. His thumb rubbed small circles on my shoulder blade, but that was it. He didn’t ask me to hug him back; he just encompassed me in his huge arms and let me rest.

Finally, I let out a shuddering, cathartic breath and stepped back. Rigby let me go just as easily. I could feel Devan’s eyes on my spine, but I didn’t turn around. I just looked up into the pretty blue eyes of Rigby. “Thanks. I needed that.”

He gave me that soft smile, his eyes filled with empathy. “I know. Anytime.”

I knew in my soul he meant it too. Hell, a part of me wanted to step back into his arms again already. To ask him to carry me to bed, to tuck me in, to take away all the responsibility I held for just one night.

Instead, I gave him a tight smile. “Goodnight.” I chanced a look over my shoulder at Devan, who was watching me with an intense expression. I cleared my throat, feeling my cheeks flush. It probably looked like I was trying to hit on his housemate. “Goodnight, Devan.”

“Night,” he said gruffly.