Page 88 of The Christmas You Crash

Like how Ryder was the epitome of sweet and respectful. How he never pushed my boundaries or tried to take advantage of our situation. I tell her how he cut down a Christmas tree forme and decorated the cabin. I tell her how pissed he was on my behalf when Dad called him before contacting me on Christmas Day.

My stories soften her, but nothing I say can overcome the one glaring fault that may forever define Ryder in my mother’s eyes—he’s a hockey player. And on my dad’s team, to boot.

“You know what they’re like,” Mom says. Her tone is gentle, but her body is stiff and unyielding. She thinks I’m an idiot for falling for a hockey player. Especially a pro-hockey player.

I shake my head. “No, Mom. I know whatDad’slike. Ryder isn’t like him.”

“You can’t really know that yet, can you? It’s only been what, a month and a half?” Her shoulders slump, and suddenly, my mom looks tired. “Everything’s new, sweetie. He’ll be on his best behavior. I’m sure he calls and texts often right now, but a year or two down the road… After you’re married and raising a baby on your own and trapped in a life you never thought you’d have to navigate alone, who’s to say those calls won’t stop? Who’s to say he won’t just appear and disappear in your life whenever it’s convenient for him, like some kind of emotional poltergeist?”

I try not to flinch when she makes the comment about being trapped with a baby, because I know she doesn’t mean to hurt me. But damn. It still stings. She loves me and she’s always been there for me, but the sensation of being an obligation tobothparents is like being stabbed in the gut.

But I also feel so sad for her. Sad for the young woman who married a man she was head over heels in love with. Sad for the woman who had big dreams for her life, only to watch them wither away into dry, brittle husks, then break apart on the wind. And maybe, for the first time, I feel a pulse of thankfulness for Jeff in all his awkwardness. Because it’s clear that he makes her feel loved and wanted. I can’t imagine how my dad’s neglect ate at her over the years.

I suppose I don’t even blame her for projecting those issues and fears onto me and my relationship with Ryder. But I don’t like the way a tiny splinter of doubt lodges into my heart. It’s understandable that she’s projecting, but it’s not fair.

“Oh, Mom.”

Blonde hair forms a curtain around her face as she hangs her head, resting it in her palms. “I just don’t want to see you hurt by another man who will pick hockey over you.”

The splinter digs in deeper.

“He’s not Dad.”

Her eyes are glassy when she looks up and meets my gaze. “I sure hope not.”

“He’s not.” Rubbing at my chest, I think about all the things Ryder has done to make me comfortable. Although he’s not crazy about keeping our relationship quiet, he’s never guilt-tripped me or tried to convince me to change my mind. He’s sworn his teammates to secrecy. He’s reassured me on more than one occasion that I’m important to him. “I actually think you’d really like him.”

Even under the scrutiny of my mom’s attention, a smile ghosts across my lips when I think about Ryder.Ireally like him. A lot. And I trust him. Trust doesn’t come easily to me. Which apparently runs in the family. Not even that pesky splinter of doubt can erase that trust.

“Does that mean things are serious enough that you want me to meet him?”

Are they? I haven’t really let myself go there, but I would like my mom to meet Ryder. I want her to see howgoodhe is. “Yeah, Mom. I think they are.”

She blows a breath out through her nose. “Okay, then. You tell me when, and I’ll meet him.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

My mother reaches across the table and pats my hand. “Of course, sweetie. I just want you to know that, if things don’t work out with this boy, Jeff’s nephew is still an option.”

Right. Wonderful.

RYDER

God, I’ve missed her face. Lexi and I have talked and texted, but we got back to the hotel late last night, and she was asleep by the time I tried to video call. Yes, it’s only one night, but apparently, I’m addicted to this woman. I need to see her every single day.

“Hey, beautiful.” I flop back onto the too-hard hotel mattress and grin widely. It’s late, so I’m not surprised to find Lexi in bed, her blonde hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, her skin bare and glowing from whatever moisturizer she uses. She looks beautiful. Tired, but beautiful. Possibly a little stressed. “How are you?”

“Hi,” she murmurs with a hint of a smile. “I’m okay. How are you? That was a close game tonight.”

My chest expands. “You watched?”

“Course I did. Gotta cheer on my man.”

That Lexi watched the game at home alone is just as surprising to me as the fact that she showed up at our home game last week. It says a lot about her that she’s willing to support me and watch a game that evokes negative emotions and memories. And rightfully so. Once again, I think about how badly Coach has to have fucked up with her to get her to pull back from him the way she has. Because it seems like Lexi is the type of woman who shows up for the people she loves.

“What did you do today?” Her brows pinch slightly as soon as the question falls from my tongue. I’m not sure why it has my stomach twisting, but it does. Maybe because I’m hours away. If Lexi had a bad day, there’s not much I can do about it. I can’t swoop in and pull her into a hug. Reaching through a phone screen isn’t possible, so I can’t smooth the little furrow between her eyebrows before kissing it better. “You okay?”

“My mom stopped by for a visit. Completely unannounced.” Those pretty green eyes of Lexi’s roll. “I’ve kind of been avoiding her.”

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