The Christmas You Crash (Going Rogue #2)

Chapter 12

twelve

LEXI

“I’d kill for some coffee right now,” I grumble from beneath several layers of blankets. Ryder kept the fire going all night, and even though it helped, I’m still cold. Plus, I have a headache developing. I really need to cut back on my caffeine consumption, because withdrawal is a bitch. I made it through most of the morning, but it’s hitting now.

Ryder grins at my pissy grumbling like he thinks it’s adorable. Weirdo. I am not adorable right now. I’m cold, my hair is a tangled mess, and I have the disposition of a bridge troll. He should be running away, screaming.

But I like that he’s not. Not that I’ll tell him.

“The stove’s gas powered, right? It should still work. How about I make us some tea?”

“You don’t have to do that,” I say. “You’re a guest. I’ll do it.” The problem is, I’m wrapped up in so many blankets that I almost fall on my face when I stand and try to untangle myself. “Oh, shit!”

Strong arms wrap around me and pull me into a hard chest. He smells like expensive cologne and raw male musk. Despite knowing it’s creepy, I breathe him in, hoping he doesn’t notice.

“You’re kinda clumsy, aren’t you?” When Ryder smiles—really smiles—he has dimples. It makes his handsome face look boyish and impish, and I like it more than I should.

“No,” I say. The words come out breathy, and I swear his eyes darken. “I’m not usually clumsy.”

Those damnable dimples deepen. “I just have that effect on you, huh?”

It takes a second to register what he’s said because I’m too busy staring at his mouth. Jesus, how can one be grumpy and horny at the same time? Am I grumpy because I’m horny? Get it together, vagina. We are not going there. I roll my eyes at him. “Sure, sure. Whatever you want to tell yourself.”

His deep chuckle rolls through my chest as he rights me and helps untangle me from the mess of blankets. “Just sit your cute ass down, Oscar. I’ll make the tea.”

Spluttering like an idiot, I blink owlishly at Ryder. “Oscar?” Cute?

“Yeah,” he says, laughing. “Because you’re a grouch in the morning without coffee.”

“I am not!”

He doesn’t even look at me as he strides into the kitchen, shivering now that he’s discarded his blankets on the couch. “Are your arms crossed right now? And do you have a pouty little frown happening?” He turns the knob for a burner on the stove, letting out a relieved little sigh when it clicks on and lights.

Meanwhile, I look down at myself. Sure enough, my arms are crossed over my chest, and I’m definitely scowling. Damn him. Letting my arms fall, I say, “I don’t have my arms crossed.”

The man laughs, as if he knows I just dropped them. “It’s okay, Lexi the grouch. I get that way at the end of the day sometimes.” He glances at me out of the corner of his eye while moving to the cabinet that holds the tea bags. “Earl Grey, rooibos chai, mint, or green tea?” he asks.

“Rooibos, please.” I pull the blankets over my head and wrap them back around my body. The power needs to come back on because it’s unbearably cold in here.

A few minutes later, Ryder sets two steaming mugs of tea on the coffee table. “Here, let’s pull the couch closer to the fire, and then we can watch movies on my laptop. I have a power bank, and my computer has a long battery life, so we should be able to watch a few movies at least.”

“That sounds nice,” I agree. We push the couch closer to the fire, and then Ryder grabs his gear from his room.

“I hope you like Die Hard and National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation . I have those and a few other random movies downloaded.” He sets his laptop on the coffee table and taps away at it.

“Either of those sound good to me. But so we’re clear, Die Hard is not a Christmas movie.” I take a tentative sip of my tea and smirk when Ryder’s face morphs into one of shock and disgust.

“Excuse me, Oscar, but it is so a Christmas movie.”

“Oh my god,” I say with a sigh. “Don’t call me Oscar.”

He smirks. “OTG?”

“What? No! You suck.” I refuse to have my nickname be OTG. Oscar the Grouch? Come on.

Ryder starts bopping his head along to some phantom beat, and then he raps under his breath. “ OTG, yeah, you know me .”

That has me bursting with laughter. “Oh. My. God. You are such a dork.”

“You like it,” he says, parroting my words from the night before.

I can’t deny it, so I say nothing. Because I do like it. A little too much. And that’s dangerous.

“All right. Here we go.” Ryder starts the movie on his computer and settles down on the couch next to me. We’re both bundled up in blankets, the fire is roaring, and the tea is steaming hot, but I’m still chilled.

At the halfway point of the movie, while John McClane realizes no one will be able to help him, and he’ll have to deal with the terrorists on his own, I’m shivering.

“Come here,” Ryder says after glancing at me half a dozen times over the course of the scene.

“Hm?”

“You’re shivering, OTG. Come here. We’ll share body heat.” Ryder stands and unwraps himself from his blankets. Meanwhile, I’m staring at him like he spoke in a foreign language.

With a quirked brow and the reappearance of those damned dimples, Ryder guides me to my feet. He waits for me to pull the blankets away from my body, but when I just stand there like an idiot, blinking up at him, he chuckles and pries the edges of them from my fingers. “Let go, Lex. We need to get you warm. I promise I won’t bite.”

Great. Now I’m picturing him biting me. In a sexy way. This isn’t good.

The sound of gunfire plays through the laptop speakers as Ryder tugs me down beside him on the couch. Pressed against my side, he arranges our blankets around us. He’s so warm. I melt against him, despite myself. It’s hard not to when my whole body is stiff from the cold. As I thaw, I can’t stop myself from letting out a happy hum.

Ryder wraps his arm around me and pulls me closer. “That’s it. Just relax, Lexi. I’ll keep you warm.” He gently applies the slightest pressure to the top of my head, encouraging me to rest my head on his shoulder. I should protest. I should sit up straight and put space between us. But I don’t. Because this is the first time I’ve felt warm in about twelve hours. So, ignoring my better judgment, I let Ryder guide my head to his shoulder and sigh happily.

“You’re so warm.”

His arm slips down around my waist, and he squeezes. “So are you.”

We fall into a thick silence. I don’t know what’s running through Ryder’s mind, but mine is a stormy sea. This isn’t me. I don’t melt into hockey players or random guys I met two days ago. I’m strong and independent. And hockey players? Of all the men I could be interested in, hockey players are the worst for my heart.

My mind wanders to my ex, Garrett. To the sweet lies he told me. To the imperious way he looked down on me the day he broke things off.

But Ryder isn’t Garrett, and nothing will ever happen between us, so what’s the point of dwelling on this? He’s right. We’re just sharing body heat. That’s all this is for both of us. So, I try to tell my brain to shut up and enjoy the feeling of his arm around me and his strong body beside mine. We’re only sharing heat, but that doesn’t mean I can’t secretly enjoy the feeling of having a massive man hold me. I’ll tuck this away as something to look back on when I need self-care material to get me going.

We only break apart when Ryder adds more logs to the fire. Halfway through our second movie of the day, my legs are draped over Ryder’s thighs, and he has one arm around my waist while his other hand rests on my knee. His thumb rubs slow circles over my leggings, and I’m so relaxed, I doze off for a few minutes with my face pressed into the crook of his neck. At least I think it’s only a few minutes, because the movie is still playing and Ryder startles me awake when he barks out a laugh at the Griswolds’ hijinks.

“Oh, shit. Sorry, Lexi. Didn’t mean to wake you.” He chuckles when I jolt upright.

“Hm? I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Right. And you don’t snore.” He gives me a shit-eating grin. I level him with a scowl in return.

“I do not snore.” I don’t, right? I would know if I snore.

His grin widens as he reaches over and wipes some drool from the corner of my mouth. I suck in a breath as his thumb brushes over the side of my lower lip. He leans in close. So close, our noses almost touch. “Do too. It’s cute.”

“How is snoring cute?” I’m completely mortified, and I try to push away from Ryder’s side, but he grips my hip and holds me in place.

“It is the way you do it. Your mouth hangs open slightly and you make these soft little snores. You sound like a kitten purring.”

He’s got to be shitting me. I do not sound like a kitten purring. I don’t snore. Narrowing my eyes at him, I cross my arms over my chest. “You’re full of shit.”

“I’ll take a video next time, if you don’t believe me,” he says with a twinkle in his eye. His smile grows wide, and he flashes straight white teeth at me. I bet a few of them are fake. Stupid hockey players and their missing teeth. No way all of those pearly whites are originals.

“There won’t be a next time,” I growl.

“Unless the power comes back on in the next few hours, I think there will be. In fact, I was going to suggest we drag a mattress out here tonight and sleep closer to the fire.”

My mind skips like a scratched record. “I’m sorry, what? You want me to sleep next to you tonight?” Oh, that is a bad idea. Bad, bad, bad. I’m already too comfortable with him. I fell asleep with my legs in his lap, for crying out loud. Who does that with a man they just met? Not Lexi Cross. Lexi Cross has learned her lesson. Men like Ryder Hanson cannot be trusted.

I blame my hussy of a vagina.

“I want us to share body heat,” he says, rolling his pretty blue eyes.

Wait, what? No. Not pretty. Stupid. His stupid blue eyes.

“It’s really not a big deal. Are you worried your dad will find out and get mad?”

Well, I wasn’t worried about that, but I am now. “No. Of course not.”

“Then, what’s the problem, OTG? We’re both adults and nothing’s going to happen. It’s survival 101 when you’re stuck in freezing temperatures.” He shrugs. Like this is just the way it is. Like he’s some survivalist who has casually shared body heat with a virtual stranger millions of times.

He’s probably not attracted to me the way I am to him. That’s why this is such a non-issue for him. He looks at me and sees his coach’s daughter. An average-looking woman with an unhealthy obsession with murder podcasts who left a little drool stain on his sweatshirt. Obviously, he’s not thinking about getting in my leggings. He’s only snuggling with me now to share body heat. This will be fine. I can keep my wandering vagina under control. This is fine.

I do my best to look nonchalant when I shrug, but if his quiet snicker is anything to go by, I don’t succeed. “Sure. Totally. Survival 101. We’ll just drag a mattress in here if we have to.”

“You’re being weird,” he says, smirking.

“You don’t even know me,” I retort. “Maybe this is me being normal.”

Ryder’s lips press into a hard line and his nostrils flare as he tries to hold in his laughter. I know he’s trying not to laugh, because his stupidly hard body shakes and his stupidly pretty eyes dance. “Whatever you say, OTG.”

“Stop calling me that!” I shout, throwing my hands into the air in exasperation.

“So cute and grouchy,” he says, chuckling.

I try to growl again but end up sounding more like a pissed-off kitten than a ferocious beast. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

No. I don’t.