Page 36 of The Christmas You Crash

LEXI

“Oh. My. God.”Ryder and I flop down onto the couch beside each other. We’re both sweaty and panting. The freaking tree is way bigger than it looked outside. That, and even though we shook off as much of the snow as we could, it’s still dripping onto the floor in a massive puddle as the rest of it melts. We’ve already mopped twice. I throw an arm over my face and groan. “Remind me why we thought this was a good idea?”

“Oh, come on, OTG,” Ryder teases, nudging me with his foot. “It’s Christmas Eve, the snow has finally stopped falling, and the power’s back on. We’re celebrating.”

I run my hand through my hair and groan when I realize I just rubbed sap into my sweaty locks. “We should celebrate in the hot tub after all of this.” My muscles are screaming at me. After chopping all that firewood, then helping Ryder drag the tree through the yard and into the house, I’m exhausted and sore.

“Think it’ll be hot?”

“Should be. I never turned it off after that first night, so it’s been re-heating since the power was restored. So, hot enough, anyway. Did you bring a suit?”

He chuckles. “Nope. That would have required foresight. Not my strong suit. But I can just swim in a pair of boxers.”

My face flushes at the suggestion. God, what am I? Some virginal high school girl? “Sure. That works. Same thing, right?”

“Oh, shit.” Ryder groans. I force my head to flop in his direction so I can see him. He rubs a hand over his face, which is all scrunched up. “I’m a dumbass.”

“What?”

“I thought I was going to be alone all week, and I brought these Christmas boxers that…” He groans again while covering his face with his hands. A few seconds later, one sky-blue eye peeks out at me from between his fingers. “I’ll go in the hot tub with you if you promise not to laugh at me, and if you swear on pain of garroting that you will never,evertell anyone about what you see.”

Well, that sure has me curious. Despite the pain radiating through my entire body, I sit up, energized. What in the world could have Ryder so embarrassed that he feels the need to swear me to secrecy? I watch him expectantly.

He narrows his eyes. “Swear it, Alexis.”

Oh, damn. He brought out my full first name. No Lexi, no Lex, no Oscar, or OTG. I guess this is serious. “I swear I won’t tell a soul.” I make anXover my heart. “Cross my heart and hope to be garroted.”

“I’m going to regret this,” Ryder mumbles to himself. Still peeking at me from between his fingers, he lets out a deep sigh before saying, “I don’t know how it started or why the hell I do this, but I have this collection of Christmas boxers.”

I wait for him to say more, and after a moment of silence, I nudge him with my foot. “Okay. I don’t really see why that’s an issue.”

Another groan. “Fuck my life. You will.”

“Are you going to tell me what makes them so bad?” I am so curious now, I’m tempted to race into his room and root through his duffel bag until I find his stash of boxers. But that seems like a bridge slightly too far. Just slightly.

“No. I can’t even bring myself to say it. Just…promise you won’t laugh, okay?”

He looks so adorably pathetic that, even though I’m not sure I can uphold a promise not to laugh when whatever the issue is makes Ryder look this embarrassed, but I’ll sure as hell try. “I promise.”

“I’m so going to regret this,” he mumbles again. “Fine. Let’s take a dip. My muscles will need a rest after decorating this tree. Everything hurts and I’m dying.”

“All right, you big baby. Let’s decorate the tree. And pray there are no woodland creatures hiding in the branches.”

Ryder’s eyes go wide, and he turns slowly to me. “Wait, is that a thing? Did we just chop down some poor squirrel family’s home?”

I try to stifle my laughter, because he looks so horrified by the idea, but it doesn’t work. “I’m sure we didn’t. And I guess if they were brave enough to stick around, at least they have a nice, warm tree now.”

“Not funny, Lex.” He scrubs a hand over his face.

I shrug as I push my tired butt off the couch and stand. “I thought it was. Come on, I think the ornaments are in the garage.”

It doesn’t take long to find the bin full of baubles and ornaments. The one stuffed with tangled lights is right beneath it. Both of us groan as we lug the boxes into the living room, thenget to work untangling the strings. After working in silence for a few minutes, Ryder grabs his phone, connects it to the wireless speaker in the kitchen, and plays festive Christmas music. After that, we both get a second wind. The lights are up in no time.

“Okay,” I say, admiring the twinkling lights. “I remember why we did this.”

Even without ornaments, the tree and the strings of twinkling white lights lend instant magic to the cabin. It’s like the cozy meter spikes straight up to one hundred percent. A jolt of childlike awe shoots straight into my heart. Once we get the ornaments on, it will be even more beautiful. Maybe I should start putting a tree up in my apartment for Christmas. Even if my roommate and I are the only ones who will ever see it.

Ryder has this big smile on his face, palms braced on his hips as he surveys our handiwork. “It’s a great tree, OTG. Good choice.”

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