Page 30 of The Christmas You Crash

I squeal as he tickles me, still clutching the colorful paper bills to my chest like they’re real currency. “What are you going to do, huh?”

Ryder’s long fingers wrap around my wrists. My hands are clasped together to keep him from getting the money. It allows him to maneuver both of my arms above my head with his left hand while he continues to torture me with his right. “I’m going to make you beg for mercy,” he says with a laugh. His face is mere inches from mine, and his big, muscular body covers my own, pressing me to the floor. “And maybe if you’re a very good girl, and you ask very nicely, I won’t punish you.”

Oh, shit. Heat floods my core, and my eyes are wide as saucers. It’s at that moment that I know my plan to bore the sexual tension between us to death has failed. Because Ryder’spupils blow when he notices my breathing has gone ragged and his attention goes to my chest. Despite the layers, I’m certain he can see my peaked nipples.

“Lexi,” he whispers. He’s utterly still, and I know that if I lift my head even the slightest bit and close the gap between us, that will be it. We’ll cross the invisible line in the snow, and there’ll be no taking it back. And I want that.God,do I want that.

But I can’t. I can’t risk my heart for a man who is contractually obligated to be loyal to my father above me. I can’t fool myself into thinking that this would be nothing more than a meaningless fling. A hot, snowed-in hookup. Because I don’t do meaningless flings and no-strings-attached hookups. I crave something real. A connection that will help me believe in love again. I always have.

And whatever this is with Ryder Hanson, it can never be that.

So, I suck in a breath, embrace a moment of searing regret, and open my mouth. “We can’t do this.”

It takes him a moment to register what I said, and then he’s scrambling off me. “Of course. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to?—”

“Ryder,” I say, cutting off his panicked words. “It’s okay. You didn’t do anything I didn’t want, we just can’t… I just can’t do this.”

“With me, you mean,” he says softly. “You can’t do this with me.”

I hate the way his eyes dull and his dimples disappear. Hate myself for the change that washes over him like an icy wave. But it’s better for both of us this way. We’ve already taken things too far, and I don’t know if I could come out of this week unscathed if I let this go any further.

“My dad,” I say by way of an explanation.

“Right. Yeah. Your dad. Totally. You’re absolutely right.” He stands, extending a hand to help me up. A smile curves his lips,but it’s disingenuous. I can tell, because mine is too. “How ‘bout we watch a movie?”

My heart clenches when he puts space between us and throws another log onto the fire. But this is what I wanted. This is how it has to be. “A movie sounds perfect.”

When the film ends, I don’t remember a single scene.

fifteen

LEXI

The distancebetween Ryder and me disappeared once again as we slept. My logical brain may know that nothing can happen between the two of us, but my subconscious holds no such qualms.

My subconscious wants Ryder Hanson. And if the way I woke up, once again tangled up in him, is any indication, my subconscious is damned needy.

We politely disentangled ourselves with as little eye contact as possible, and he very kindly didn’t call me on my closeness. After all, I’d been the one to pull away yesterday. But I’m pretty sure I was also the one to close the distance between us on the mattress last night and shove my hand beneath the hem of his hoodie, so my heat-seeking fingers ended up spread over his hard abs.

Luckily, by the time breakfast was over, we both shook off the awkwardness hanging between us like sharp, dangerous icicles. We passed an hour watching John Wick on his laptop. Both of us ignored the battery icon, which was slowly draining.

“Man, Keanu is fantastic at killing people. I just don’t think it’s fair that he looks so hot doing it.”

Ryder levels me with an arched brow. “That’s what you’re getting out of this? That Keanu looks hot while killing people?”

“I mean, that’s one of the things, yeah. I also said he was great at murdering. I’m giving credit where it’s due, okay?” Stretching my back, my shoulder brushes against Ryder’s. He’s so warm. So solid. I bet he has just as many muscles as John Wick. Hell, I know he does because my traitorous fingers were feeling up the ridges of his abs when I woke up this morning. But as hot as a murderous Keanu is, I’m glad Ryder is something more innocuous. Even if that thing is a hockey player. Which is unfortunate.

Ryder’s smooth laugh washes over me, and I shiver. I’m starting to crave that sound. It’s deep and rich and so free from bullshit. “You’re ridiculous, OTG.”

Despite the way I roll my eyes, there’s no hiding my grin. “Oh my god. Stop calling me that.” I shiver again, this time from the chill that never quite leaves my bones, despite the fire blazing in front of us, the blankets we huddle beneath, and Ryder’s body beside me. The power needs to come back on, and it needs to be soon.

“Cold?” Ryder asks, his brow pinched.

“Aren’t you?”

His grimace says it all. “Come here.”

The feeling of his arms around me is becoming too familiar and comforting. I don’t even resist him when he wraps one around my back and tugs me closer to his body. With a sigh, I lean my head against his shoulder. “You’re so warm,” I murmur as his cheek comes to rest on my head.

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