The Christmas You Crash (Going Rogue #2)

Chapter 28

twenty-eight

RYDER

It’s a Christmas miracle. Somehow, Lexi Cross has agreed to date me. Do I love that she wants to keep it a secret? No. Am I going to let that stop me from winning her over completely and making her mine? Also no. I spent the first few hours with her in my arms last night brainstorming dates she might like to go on once we get out of here.

I’m tempted to bring up New Year’s Eve and the invitation from Maddox to hang out with the guys, but I know it’s too soon. I still have a few more days to convince her that none of them will tell Coach Cross anything if we ask them not to. Hell, I’m not sure any of them even know Lexi’s name—let alone what she looks like—so it’s possible we could go to the party and never have to reveal who she is.

But all of this is a problem for future Ryder. Right now, I want to enjoy skinny-dipping in this hot tub with the most beautiful woman in the world and savor the quiet laziness that always accompanies the day after Christmas.

While we soak, I ask her about college and her best friends. She tells me about how she misses a lot of things about going to school in Chicago but that Minnesota is her home. She laments how infrequently she and her best friends see each other, despite only being eight hours apart. And she tells me how freeing it was to live in a city where her dad wasn’t a household name, and how much she’d needed space from her parents to figure out who she was and what she wanted in life.

I tell her about my parents. About how they cheered so loudly when I learned how to skate. About the look of pride on their faces when I played my first hockey game, despite neither team scoring, and half of us being unable to skate more than three feet without dropping our sticks. I tell her about all the sacrifices my dad made to keep me in hockey once my mom died. How much I wish he’d gotten to see me play for his favorite team in the NHL.

Our conversation flows so easily, I forget we’ve only known each other for five days. I don’t think about how crazy it will seem to everyone that we’re dating after so little time. But with every story we share and every laugh that slips out of Lexi’s full lips, I feel more and more certain that we could have something special.

“What made you choose a college in Chicago?” I ask her when the conversation swings back around that way. I can’t help but think of Chase Bowen and our rivalry that used to be a friendship, and I rub my sternum. It’s a familiar ache, and even though time has dulled it, it’s still a wound that hasn’t completely healed.

Lexi’s lips twist thoughtfully. “I think I liked the idea of being a little fish in a big pond. I know that’s not what most people want, but I’ve always felt so much pressure to prove myself, you know? Going to school in a huge city, where no one knew me, was freeing in a way I can’t entirely explain. It let me try new things without worrying about failure.”

“Like what?” I want to know everything.

Her emerald eyes glitter as the corners of her lips twitch. “Like, I’ve always wished I was artistic. I mean, sure, I did some plays in high school, and I think I was pretty decent, but that’s the extent of my creative abilities. But I’ve always had this fantasy of living that tortured artist’s life. I thought it would be so cool to walk around the city with an old film camera slung around my neck. I’d take black and white photos of random strangers on the street or a particularly striking sky.” She shakes her head. Her cheeks bunch up, even as she presses her lips together to hold back a smile.

“Did you do it, then? Did you take a photography class and start wearing berets around the city while a clove cigarette hung out of your mouth?”

She giggles. “What? Ew. But yes. Yes, I did.”

Soaking in the hot water, I wait expectantly for Lexi to continue her story. She covers her face with her hands before peeking out at me through the gaps between her fingers. “I think I managed to take all of five photos the entire semester that were completely in focus. My professor couldn’t seem to hide her amusement when it was my turn to show my work. It was... Well, my photos looked like a drunk toddler had taken them.”

“They couldn’t have been that bad,” I say through my laughter.

She shakes her head. “Oh, I promise you they were. At the end of the semester, my professor pulled me aside and told me she was grading me based upon my efforts in the class, and not my work. Then she asked me to please never take another one of her classes, because she couldn’t make a habit of doing that.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, Lex.” I’m shaking with silent laughter as I pull her naked body through the water and onto my lap. The new position has both of us stilling. Our laughter ceases, and we simply stare into each other’s eyes. “Was that the first and last art class you ever took?”

She looks away from me and mutters a sardonic, “Nope.”

“And what did you take next, Oscar?” I chuckle when she gives me a half-hearted smack to my chest because of the nickname.

“I took a pottery class. With wheels and everything.”

“And how did that go?”

She buries her face in my neck. “Not well.”

Not well. There are so many ways throwing pottery on a wheel could go not well . Grinning, I wrap my arms around her and hold her close. “Care to elaborate?”

She snickers against my skin. “Let’s just say that I am now an expert at getting wet clay out of hair.”

We both end up laughing at that imagery. When she pulls away from her hiding spot pressed against my neck, I study her. Rosy cheeks that are full and round with her smile, the most beautiful green eyes, that smattering of freckles across her nose. Lexi Cross is beautiful and engaging, and I want to hear all her stories.

I love that she stepped out of her comfort zone in college. I didn’t. I stuck to the classes required for my degree and spent the rest of my time training or on the ice. I was always so laser focused on getting into the NHL, especially after my dad died, that I didn’t leave room for anything else. Hell, I haven’t left room for much else since starting with the Rogues, either.

Maybe it’s time to change that. I’m happy with my life. I wish my parents were still here to celebrate my victories with and mourn my losses, but outside of them, I have everything I wanted. I play for one of the best teams in the NHL, I’m developing friendships with my teammates, and I have a swanky apartment downtown. Sure, I share it with one of the other guys on my team because I’m scared to put my name on a lease of my own, for fear it will jinx me, and I’ll end up traded to somewhere way too warm to play hockey. Somewhere like Florida. Shudder . But I have the kind of place I dreamed about in college. I’m getting more time on the ice, and my prospects are looking good.

Still, after almost a week with Lexi, it’s becoming clear that none of that really means my life is full. Not in the way it could be. Because I haven’t been sharing all of that with anyone. I’ve told myself I don’t have the time or the emotional bandwidth for a relationship, but maybe that’s bullshit.

Maybe I’ve just been too scared to take a risk and put myself out there.

I’m still scared shitless, but I finally see that putting myself out there may be one of the best decisions I could make. If it means I get to share my days with the beautiful, intelligent, unique woman straddling my lap, I’m all in. I’ll put it all on the line. Because Lexi is...

Lexi is someone my parents would have loved.

Lexi is someone who makes me feel alive.

I can’t screw this up.

She sighs when I cup her face with my hands, her eyelids fluttering closed. I can’t resist. I close the distance between us and press my lips to hers. It’s not hungry, like our kisses last night. No, this kiss is the sealing of a silent promise to do whatever is in my power to make Lexi happy. To keep her heart safe. Because it’s become very clear to me that Alexis Cross is an expert at protecting her own heart.

I’d like to be the one to take up the mantle now. All I want is to be a safe place for her. A place to fall when she doesn’t have the strength to stand on her own. To be someone who will hold her up and protect her.

I’m not dumb enough to say any of that to her, yet. Lexi is fiercely independent. Anyone can see that. If I try to come riding in on a white horse, like some knight in shining armor, she’s more likely to kick my ass than swoon. But we’ll get there. Probably not to the swooning part, but the letting me protect her part. It may take some time, but I’ll show her she can depend on me. That she can lean on me.

“You’re beautiful,” I whisper between slow, drugging kisses. “I bet you even looked beautiful with clumps of clay in your hair.”

She chuckles against my mouth before tugging on my lower lip with her teeth. “Such a charmer, Ryder Hanson. Are you trying to get into my pants?”

I buck up against her. “You’re not wearing any pants.”

That has her breathing going ragged. “True. I certainly am not.”

“Should we head inside? I’ll dry you off, grab a condom, and make you scream my name.”

“Mm. Yes, please.” Lexi wraps her arms tightly around my neck, then hooks her legs around my waist. “To the bedroom, Jeeves.”

That devious smirk on her face has me arching one eyebrow, but I give her what she wants. Rising to my feet, I carefully step out of the hot tub, with Lexi clinging to me like a koala, and carry her inside.

“As you wish, madam.”