Page 79 of The Christmas You Crash

I shrug. “Maybe.” What I don’t tell him is that I’ve been tossing around the idea of going to some of his home games. But incognito, and in seats where my dad would be unlikely to spot me. After New Year’s Eve with Ryder’s teammates and Isla and Mira, I’ve been thinking regularly about how much I want to watch my man on the ice. To support him and cheer him on, the way Isla and Mira cheer on Maddox and Griffin. But I’m not ready to commit, yet. And when I do, I want it to be a surprise.

So, yeah, I’m familiar with his schedule. If I’m going to get tickets, I need to do it soon. They’re playing well so far this season, which means fans will want to get in on the action.

“So, on the subject of schedules, I know we are both busy and that your classes take up a lot of your time. And obviously, my games can be pretty consuming. I want you to know that I will make time for you.” He looks so serious now. Food forgotten, Ryder rests his elbows on the restaurant table and leans forward. “I’m not always great with time management. And I can forgetabout things if they’re outside of my normal routine.” He scratches at the stubble along his jaw. He looks like he’s working up the courage to say something vulnerable, so I reach across the table and grab his hand.

“We can figure out a system.”

“Actually, I think I already have.” He swallows a gulp of water while looking at me from beneath the long, dark fringe of his eyelashes. After a few seconds, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “There’s this shared calendar app I thought we could try. We can both enter our schedules, and it blocks the day out in color-coded squares. That way, it’s easy to see when one of us is free, and we can add our dates and plans.”

Ryder flips his phone so I can see the screen. There’s a colorful weekly calendar. Ryder has physical therapy and practice blocked out, errands he needs to run, even the time between my classes the other day when he surprised me with coffee. He’s way more organized than I am. “I know it’s kind of lame, but would you be willing to give it a try?”

I give his hand a squeeze. “Actually, I don’t think that’s lame at all. I’m impressed with your organizational skills.”

“It’s more of a survival skill than an organizational one, but thanks.” The faintest blush colors his cheeks.

“What’s the app called?”

He tells me, and I download it immediately. Once it’s installed, we set it up so we can share a calendar, and Ryder grins at me. “Thanks, Lex. Obviously, you don’t need to put everything on there, just maybe stuff that impacts when we might normally see each other? I swear, I’m not trying to stalk you.”

I chuckle. “Are you sure? You could still end up being a serial killer.”

An absolutely salacious look overtakes his features. Leaning forward, Ryder whispers, “Baby, the only thing I’m going to murder is your pretty pussy. In the best way, of course.”

Well, damn. Now my panties are wet and my face feels hot. Ignoring Ryder’s deep laughter, I take an overly large bite of my burger and avoid making eye contact. But all I can think about is Ryder scheduling a time for his big cock to impale my pussy.

Being stabbed may not be the worst way to go.

thirty-eight

LEXI

It’s beenyears since I’ve set foot in an arena. I used to love going to hockey games. What’s not to love? The slightly chlorinated scent of the ice, the excited chatter of thousands of fans, the greasy, overpriced concession food, and a fast-paced game full of men on skates. I wish I’d never let my ex and my dad taint the sport for me. I’ve missed this.

Scanning the arena to make sure I don’t spot anyone I know—namely, my dad and his assistant coaches—I get comfortable in my seat. I’m quite a few rows up near the neutral zone, which gives me a great view of the entire rink but also lets me blend in with the crowd. In a perfect world, I’d be down by the boards, cheering on my boyfriend and heckling the other team.

The Rogues are playing the Seattle Leviathans today. They’re a good team with an enthusiastic fanbase, but we’re better. The arena is a sea of yellow and gray. Only a few specks of Seattle’s navy and teal break up the wave of Rogues’ colors. Beer is flowing, people shout greetings to their neighbors, and signs wait to be unfurled.

I have one ready too. And since I know my dad and the team will have their backs to me when they’re on the player’s bench, I plan to use it. It’s a drawing of a certain furry green monster in a trashcan with a speech bubble that says, “Take out the trash, Ryder!” I’m no artist, so my Oscar looks a little wonky, but he’ll get the point across.

Ryder should know he has someone here cheering him on. That, despite my dad, I’m here for him.

I just hope I don’t end up regretting this.

My nerves kick up when the announcer introduces the Leviathans. Every new player that’s named makes my heart beat faster. This is the first time I’ll get to watch Ryder play in person. It’s the first hockey game I’ve been to in ages. And I’m risking being seen by my dad. I’m also nervous for Ryder. He feels so much pressure to play well and keep his spot on the team. I want that for him. I also don’t want him to get injured again or worsen his hand.

I’m a giant ball of nerves by the time the lights in the arena go down, the strobes kick on, and the announcer begins introducing the Rogues. People cheer and scream for each new player. The volume grows louder and louder as they go. When Ryder’s name is called out, I join in with the cheering fans around me and scream his name.

Ryder’s smile is electric as he takes to the ice and waves at the fans. He’s back in his element, and a thrill of pleasure shoots through my belly to see him this way. Happy. Energized. Plus, he looks hot as hell in his uniform. Something the women seated behind me seem to agree with as they comment on how they’d like to sink their teeth into his ass. I laugh and barely resist the urge to turn around and tell them that’s my boyfriend they’re talking about.

But that wouldnothelp me remain incognito.

I cheer when they introduce the guys from Maddox’s party. And then they announce the coaches. My stomach twists when my dad strides out onto the ice in a crisp, expensive suit. He looks so confident and happy. His sandy blond hair has more gray in it than the last game I watched. His tall, imposing form is still strong, though he’s a little softer around the middle than he was when I was younger. But he looks good. Do I want him to look miserable without me? I can’t decide. It hits me harder than I thought it would to see him out there like this. But I’m not here for my father. I’m here for my boyfriend.

When my eyes find Ryder again, some of the tightness in my chest eases and my stomach stops roiling. God, how can he have such a profound effect on me already? We’ve known each other for less than a month. It doesn’t make sense, but I also don’t want to question it. It’s nice having someone in my corner that gives a shit. Someone who centers me and encourages me. The fact that he can bring me to orgasm faster and more times than anyone else ever has isn’t a hardship, either.

The Rogues’ players skate around the ice for a few minutes to warm up, and when Ryder’s facing my direction, I hold up the sign. He’s so focused on what he’s doing that he doesn’t notice right away. But Logan Byrne does. Byrne flashes me a huge smile, then elbows Ryder, prompting him to look up into the seats. When his gaze finds me, I nearly melt from the absolute joy that radiates from him.

He finds my face first. His eyes widen and his lips part. Like he can’t believe I’m actually here. Then his attention wanders to the sign I’m holding above my head, and he doubles over with laughter. Logan joins him, and soon the rest of the guys are chuckling, though they make sure not to look at me all at once, so as not to draw my dad’s attention. Ryder stares at me, shaking his head, grinning like a fool. I mouthgood luckbefore he skates away. The women behind me wonder loudly who I am.

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