Page 74 of The Christmas You Crash

“Yeah,” I say. That doesn’t mean my logical brain always wins out. As I’m about to reassure Rachel that she doesn’t need to worry about me, Ryder’s head snaps up and his eyes lock on me. The biggest, broadest smile overtakes his handsome face, and some of my worries ease. An answering smile lifts my lips.

“He just noticed you, didn’t he?” Rachel sounds amused, but I’m too busy staring at Ryder to look at her.

“Uh-huh.”

“Right,” she says with a laugh. “I’ll talk to you later. Go have fun with Loverboy.”

I offer a distractedbyeof my own before Rachel disconnects our video call. I shove my phone into my coat pocket as people glance behind them, trying to figure out what’s caught the pro hockey player’s attention. Ryder doesn’t notice any of them. He takes a few steps toward me before one of the guys asks him something.

Ryder’s brows pinch. I can tell he’s conflicted. He glances at me, then back at the student who says something else. Ryder gives him a short answer. He’s too polite to blow his fans off completely. Even if he may want to. I keep walking toward him, and Ryder tries to step around one of the female students. She puts her palm on his chest and says something before glancing back at me. A high-pitched giggle I can hear from fifty feet away grates over my ears. She uses her other hand to touch his bicep, and I feel my smile slip.

Jealousy and annoyance slice through my chest. Who does that woman think she is, touching my man? Ryder tilts his head slightly, and his eyebrows pull together. He shrugs out of the woman’s grasp, saying something to her that makes her cheeks flush. She looks pissed when she turns back to glare at me. I glare right back.

I don’t like you, either, I silently taunt.

With a few more words and a couple nods of his head, Ryder extricates himself from the crowd and closes the distance between us. The more space he puts between the horde of adoring fans, the more my chest loosens, though I’m still annoyed. I’m annoyed at the flirtatious women who had the nerve to put their hands on Ryder. I’m annoyed at him for not telling them to fuck off the moment he saw me. But most of all, I’m annoyed with myself. My reaction is not logical. I know this.If I had any doubt about how quickly the dark-haired hockey player has wormed his way into my heart, this situation would have made my feelings crystal clear.

I like Ryder Hanson. A hell of a lot more than I should, considering we’ve only known each other for about two weeks. If I could bitch-slap my overeager heart to snap her out of this and remind her she needs to be more careful, I would. It pisses me off how quickly he’s slipped past my defenses. How important he’s become in such a very short time.

“Hey, baby,” Ryder says softly. He hands me a coffee. It frees up his injured hand, and he wastes no time tangling it in the hair at the nape of my neck and pulling me in for a slow, sensual kiss. Despite my general annoyance, I melt into him and kiss him right back.

Take that, desperate coeds.

I’m immediately pissed at myself again for the ridiculous thought and the simmering jealousy I can’t quite shake.

“What are you doing here?” I ask when we finally break apart. Despite my best efforts, the words are sharper than I’d like them to be.

He’s doing something sweet. He brought you coffee. Stop being an irrational asshole, Lexi.

One dark eyebrow quirks up. He untangles his hand from my hair and points to the hot cup of coffee in my hand. “Bringing my girl some caffeine.” His fingers wrap around my hand and the cup, forcing me to bring it to my lips. A smirk hovers at the corner of his mouth. “Which I think you need, Oscar.”

The coffee is hot, sweet, and perfect, but I still glare at him as I take a few sips. “Don’t call me that.”

“Then don’t be such a grouch.” The man has the audacity to laugh when I let out a pathetic little growl.

“If I’m such a grouch, why don’t you go back to your adoring fans?”Why? Why did you let that slip past my mouth, brain? What the hell is wrong with you?

Ryder’s second eyebrow joins its compatriot at his hairline, and that stupidly cute smirk blooms into a full-blown smile. “And why would I want to talk to any of them? I happen to find grouchy women sexy.”

“You do not.”

Even the wind seems to laugh at me. It trills and howls as it whips through the grounds and tangles my hair. The flirtatious blonde who was all touchy-feely with Ryder watches us, along with a couple of the sporty-looking guys. They’re probably laughing at me too. Or wondering why Ryder-Freaking-Hanson is entertaining dirty looks from a woman who looks like the winter version of the Pillsbury Doughboy in her pink puffer coat. I don’t look cute today. I look cold and makeup-less. I growl again.

Following my line of sight, Ryder spares only the quickest glance at the crowd behind him. Then those frosted blue eyes that dance and sparkle like unmarred ice in the sun turn back to me. His lips twitch. “Alexis Cross. Are youjealous?”

Yes.

“What? No. Of course not.” I hide my scowl behind the coffee cup as I take another sip. I can’t believe he showed up at my school with a latte for me. He’s so stinking sweet and thoughtful. Who does stuff like this? The annoyance I’m feeling with myself only grows. I’m the worst. I’m cranky and grouchy and irrational. Despite wanting to say thank you and tell him how much it means to me that he’s done all this, I’m still stewing in emotions that have very little to do with him and almost everything to do with me and my feelings of inadequacy.

Unfortunately, self-awareness doesn’t always translate into a corresponding action.

Anyone else would walk away from me right now. Who wants to spend their afternoon doing nice things for a prickly woman who can’t seem to just saythank you?

But Ryder isn’t anyone else. His face softens as he pulls me against his chest and kisses my forehead. “You are totally jealous. It’s cute, OTG. I kinda like it.”

Ass.

Warm lips brush against my forehead again. “But you should know that you have no reason to be jealous. The whole time those people surrounded me, all I could think about was you. These pouty lips of yours, the way your eyes light up when you see me. I didn’t even notice any of their faces. I was too busy looking for yours.”

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