Page 13 of The Christmas You Crash

After another few minutes of silence, I can’t take it anymore. “Listen, I?—”

“I wanted to apologize—” Ryder says at the same time. We look at each other, laughing awkwardly. “Go ahead,” he says with a reserved smile.

“Oh, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for last night. Whatever I said that pissed you off, I’m sorry.”

Ryder runs a hand through his sleep-mussed hair and grimaces. “You didn’t piss me off, Lexi. There’s no need to apologize. It’s just… It’s a sore spot for me, that’s all. I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

I shrug. “I’m not offended.” The rejection had stung a bit, but it obviously wasn’t about me. I can respect that. “Want some coffee?”

Coffee is part of my morning ritual, especially on days I don’t do yoga. Not because I like the taste, because I don’t, really. At least, not unless there’s a metric ton of sugar and cream in it, or it’s one of those fancy drinks that cost way too much at a coffee shop. But I developed a pretty intense caffeine habit in college, and graduate school doesn’t seem like the time to detox. Nor does a week trapped in a cabin with an attractive stranger. Not unlessIwant to become the serial killer.

Ryder’s attention stays glued to my back as I push off the couch and stride into the kitchen. Hopefully, I brought enough coffee beans for this trip. There’s enough for one person, but two? We shall see.

The smell is rich and eye-opening as I pour a decent amount into the grinder. Even the littletink, tink, tinkof the beans hitting the blade has me anticipating the jolt of energy they’ll bring. I glance over at Ryder to see him watching me.

“Well?” I say, arching one eyebrow. “Speak now, or be forever sad and tired.”

He laughs at that, and it erases the frown that was marring his striking features. “Sure. I’ll have a cup.”

I prep the drip machine and press start. It’s not long before the cabin fills with the energizing scent of freshly brewed coffee, and I hum my approval. My ass does a little wiggle before I can stop it, causing my cheeks to warm when Ryder lets out anotherone of those low chuckles that vibrate through my body and somehow end at my clit.

Down, girl. We are not going anywhere near the hockey player.

The problem is, we haven’t gone anywhere nearanyonein way too long, so my body doesn’t really care that Ryder is on my dad’s team and therefore completely off-limits. Nope. My body just sees a glorious specimen of a man with thick thighs, a round ass, and a sexy-as-hell laugh, and that’s all she needs to know. She can only think about ending this prolonged dry streak. Because, between school and my shitty part-time job waiting tables on campus, it’s not like I’ve had the time. Things are probably looking a little dusty down there.

“So,” I say, needing to fill the silence. “What were you planning to do while you’re here?”

Ryder chuckles. “Uh, well, I guess I didn’t really have a plan. Coach…” He glances at me, his hands rubbing up and down his thighs. Thighs that are again encased in a pair of those damned gray sweatpants. “Your dad sort of sprang this on me last minute. I was hoping there was a bar in town and some decent takeout places. But that’s clearly not an option.” He motions to the still-falling snow.

“Wait.” I turn to look at him fully. “Did you bring groceries and stuff with you?”

The pink that creeps up Ryder’s cheeks is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. He grimaces, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. “Uh, no? I was planning to find a store once I got here.”

He was planning to find a store once he got here.

“Did you even check the forecast before you started driving?”

“I meant to,” he says, ducking his head, so he doesn’t have to meet my gaze. “But I guess I got distracted.”

“Seriously? You drove almost three hours up to a town you’d never been to before for a week-long trip, and you didn’t evencheck the weather or pack food? What would you have done if I wasn’t here?” There are always some cans of soup and some snacks that have a long shelf life stocked in the pantry. My dad pays someone to stock it up every six months just in case of emergencies. But Ryder doesn’t know that. He could have ended up stranded and starving.

His cheeks flame brighter as he shifts on the couch. “I, uh, I’m not really much of a planner. I…” He glances up at me, and my heart does a funny squeeze. Ryder looks ashamed. Like he’s a child who was just scolded for the hundredth time about something he knows he did wrong. I don’t enjoy being the one to make him feel that way. I know all too well what it feels like to disappoint someone.

With a bright smile, I wave off his explanation. He doesn’t owe me one, and besides, I’m always overly prepared. What would be the point in making him feel bad? “Well, never mind that, now. I brought plenty of food for both of us. And if, for some reason, we run out, my dad keeps the pantry well stocked.” The coffee maker hisses and burbles as the pot fills. “Do you like cream and sugar in your coffee? I also have peppermint mocha creamer. It’s so good.”

The tension of the moment melts off of Ryder as he gifts me a brilliant smile. “I normally drink it black because creamer isn’t really a part of our nutrition plan.” He chuckles as I make a face.

“Seriously? Only serial killers drink their coffee black. Everyone knows that coffee is simply a vehicle for flavored sugar.”

He laughs as he rises from the couch and wanders into the kitchen, where he leans against the counter less than a foot away from me. “Flavored sugar?”

“I like a little coffee with my sugar. What can I say?”

“Well, I guess I am out for a few weeks. No one will know if I cheat on my plan.”

“That’s the spirit. Creamer’s in the fridge. Can you grab it?”

Ryder flashes me a lopsided smile that makes my belly flip. While he grabs that, I pull two mugs out of the cabinet and fill them three-quarters of the way up. After he hands me the creamer, he watches me pour enough to turn my coffee from a dark umber to a light tan.

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