Page 93 of The Christmas You Crash

For the first time in a long time, everything feels right in the world as I rest my head on his shoulder. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

“Thank you for having us over,” Ryder says to my mom and Jeff. “It was so nice to meet you. I hope we can do this again.”

A genuine smile overtakes my mom’s face. “I hope so too.”

We say one last goodbye—because Midwesterners can never say just one—and climb into Ryder’s car. Neither of us speaks for the first few minutes as he begins the drive toward my apartment. It’s not a tense silence. More that we’re both processing the evening. It certainly didn’t go the way I expected it to, which is a good thing. But there is a lot to consider. My mom didn’t have an affair. Jeff isn’t the bad guy. Mom thinks Ryder loves me. She thinks I love him.

She may be right.

When Ryder’s large, warm hand covers mine, I turn to look at him. “You okay, OTG?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m good, actually. Are you? My mom wasn’t exactly easy on you most of the night.”

My handsome boyfriend shrugs. “I’m good. And I think things with your mom went well. She may not be fully Team Ryder yet, but I’ll win her over. Besides, she was just being protective of you. And she’s been hurt. By my coach. Can’t say I don’t understand her reservations.”

Sweet, sweet man.

“You don’t have to defend her.”

“I know. But if she doesn’t like me, it’s not because of me. It’s because of my career. And I’m not my job, you know? I love it, don’t get me wrong. Hockey kept me going when my mom died, then again when my dad passed. It’s given me something to strive for, something to lose myself in, and a sense of family I desperately needed. But hockey is a brutal sport. No one plays forever. I figure I’ll get maybe ten to fifteen years more of this if I’m really lucky.”

Ryder flexes his healing hand. “But I could also be done tomorrow. One bad fall, one torn tendon, and that could be it. I’m not putting all my eggs in one icy basket.”

“Have you thought about what you want to do after hockey?” I ask. Because I can’t imagine spending so much of my life working toward something that could be taken away from me in an instant like that.

“No idea,” he says. Then he squeezes my hand. “But I know that, whatever it is, I want to figure it out with the right woman by my side.”

Well, that makes my heart all sorts of fluttery. Because when he says those words and looks at me so meaningfully, my mind flashes back to my mom’s words.

He’s in love with you.

Oh, boy. Is she right?

I let out a breathy giggle that is extremely undignified and embarrassing. “Well, I believe you can do anything you want.”

Thank god Ryder doesn’t laugh at my ridiculousness. He smiles softly at me, squeezes my hand, and says, “Thanks, Oscar. You know I feel the same about you. Have you thought more about what you want to use your degree for?”

“Not really,” I admit. It’s something I need to put some serious thought into, but I have time. And I’ve been a little distracted lately.

“You’ll figure it out.”

“Thanks, Handsome.”

When we get to my apartment, Ryder walks me to my door. I invite him in, but I’m not the only one with an early morning tomorrow. The Rogues have practice at the butt crack of dawn. Still, it’s incredibly difficult to tear myself away from the man. Especially when his kisses are so deep and drugging. I feel like I’m floating when our mouths break apart.

With one palm cupping my cheek and the other hand brushing my hair away from my face, Ryder blinks a few times. He’s clearly as affected by our kisses as I am. “God, it’s hard walking away from you.”

“I know,” I say breathlessly. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in?”

“Oh, I want to.” He presses his forehead against mine. “But I’m going to be the responsible one and go. If I walk in there with you right now, neither of us will get any sleep.” To illustrate his point, Ryder presses his hips forward and grinds his very hard dick against my lower belly. When I gasp, he chuckles, low and raspy. “Exactly, baby. Now, get your beautiful ass inside and get some sleep. You’ll be pissed at yourself if you can’t pay attention in class.”

He’s right, of course. I still don’t like it. My face must show my emotions, because Ryder chuckles again, takes the keys from my hand, and unlocks my apartment door. He gives me one more searing kiss, opens it, turns me around, and pushes me gently inside with a swat to my ass.

“Not fair,” I pout. “You distracted me with kisses.”

Handing my keys back, he looks adorably smug. “Good night, Alexis. Get some sleep. Maybe dream about me.”

Oh, I will. But, first, I need to call my bestie.

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