Canceled for Christmas (New York Knights #1)

Chapter 1

RYDER

“I’m Ryder Quinn and this is how I start my morning.”

Ryder shut off the microphone with a groan.

He wasn’t in the mood for this, but he had to get it done.

For some bizarre reason, his followers loved to know about his morning routine.

He suspected it was probably because the last time he’d done this, he was wearing nothing but a tight pair of briefs which left nothing to the imagination.

Not that people needed an imagination; he was very blessed in that department.

Content which involved him wearing as little clothing as possible always got the most engagement.

However, he had hardcore followers who were obsessed with everything about his life.

It should be creepy, and it kind of was, but some of these people had their own large followings, so by sharing and engaging in his content, they benefited Ryder.

He hadn’t set out to be a fitness influencer, but Ryder had always enjoyed fitness ever since he was a kid.

His school had run a fantastic athletics program, and he’d been very active, but he could never settle on one sport.

His boredom threshold was low, and it was likely he had ADHD given how he could get sometimes, but he’d never sought a diagnosis.

Ironically, it was always something he forgot to prioritize.

Having over five million followers on social media had its monetary benefits, but the drawback was that you couldn’t have a day off.

People expected something new every day, usually multiple times.

Ryder had worked in the fitness industry since he’d moved to New York a decade earlier.

After doing a business degree and working in the corporate world for a while, he’d given it all up when his life had imploded.

He’d started out in gyms and eventually set up his own business, but the pandemic had forced him to shift his personal training business online, and he’d started making videos.

His following had exploded after one of his scantily clad workouts had gone viral, and three years ago he’d stopped seeing clients one-on-one and launched an online academy, which his team now ran.

He focused most of his time on content creation, modelling, and brand deals.

It had never been his plan to be a social media influencer, and now he was losing a bit of passion for it.

The boredom threshold had been reached, but the money was a big enough motivator to stop him from doing anything reckless.

Ryder’s parents had struggled financially when he was growing up.

His dad had been a blue-collar worker, and his mum had worked two hospitality jobs so they could provide for Ryder and his two younger sisters, who now both worked corporate jobs.

Ryder could never go back to that. Four of his closest friends were corporate in some way, and the other was an award-winning chef.

They were all in their thirties and forties and had their shit together.

Ryder might come across as a confident and arrogant, but inside he was a little lost.

He rubbed his eyes. It was getting late, and he needed to finish editing this video so he could sleep. He turned the microphone back on to record.

“I’m Ryder Quinn and this is how I start my morning . . .”

“Why is everyone being all sappy?” asked Ryder.

His best friends surrounded him. Unfortunately, three of them were loved up. Well, “unfortunately” was the wrong word, because they had all met great guys. Ryder was happy for his friends finding the loves of their lives, but could they not talk about something else?

Sebastian was the oldest of their group, and a literal billionaire.

He’d met his husband Charlie almost two years ago and moved to London, but because his business headquarters were in New York, he was over often.

Max had also met Paolo on a vist to London, but now they both lived here.

And Deacon, who had been Ryder’s wingman as the only other bisexual in their group, was a lovesick puppy with his boy, Hunter.

The way their relationship had started had been rough, but it had all worked out.

Then there was Mason, the award-winning chef, who was a grumpy bastard and harboring a not-so-secret crush on his assistant but refusing to do anything about it, and Ethan, the brains of the group, who was getting secretly dicked down on the regular by someone he didn’t want the others to know about.

Ryder had found out by accident, and keeping that juicy tea to himself had been a challenge, but it was Ethan’s business.

That left Ryder as the only true single who was happy that way.

He just loved to fuck and wasn’t discriminatory with his tastes.

He was six feet five, and preferred his partners to be smaller than him so he could easily manhandle them.

This wasn’t a problem with women, but with men he could play a little rougher, and there was nothing better than a bendy little thing who could take a good pounding.

He needed to get his thoughts out of the gutter and live in the moment with his best friends.

It had been too long since the six of them had all been together, but their annual Friendsgiving was coming up, which he always loved.

“When does the cruise leave?” asked Ethan.

“Wednesday,” replied Sebastian.

“Wait, what?” asked Ryder, suddenly paying attention. “What about our Friendsgiving?”

“Have you read the group chat at all in the past three weeks?” asked Deacon, looking mildly amused.

“I’ve been busy doing . . . stuff.”

“Stuff . . . Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” snorted Max.

“You’re the baby of the group, remember? And before you speak, Charlie and Hunter don’t count . . . and neither does Zeb,” he said, throwing a smile at Mason.

The chef growled his displeasure at the comment. The others all laughed. It was a sore spot for Mason, so it was only natural his besties would rib him about it.

“Hunter and Charlie wanted to do a Caribbean cruise, so we booked one for Thanksgiving. Charlie wanted Paolo there as well.”

“So you’re all fucking off with your men for Thanksgiving and leaving us here? Where’s our invite?”

“Mason has the restaurant,” said Sebastian. “And it’s more of a couples’ cruise. Not really your thing.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you’d cope with being at sea for a week with nobody to fuck,” said Max.

This made them all laugh. Ryder had no shame in being a fuckboy—he had people falling at his feet to get into bed with him, and he had no desire to settle down—but Max’s comment somehow pierced through the armor he had around his heart.

Ryder had been in love once, but when things ended, it had almost destroyed him.

It had happened before he’d met this amazing group of guys, who were like a second family to him.

He loved his blood family, but they lived in Atlanta, where he’d grown up, so he didn’t see them as often as he’d like.

Without another word, he stood up, pulled some twenties out for his share of the drinks, and threw them on the table.

“Where are you going?” asked Sebastian with a frown.

Ryder didn’t bother to respond, just turned and walked away. He heard his friends shout after him, but he didn’t look back. Was he throwing a tantrum? Yes. Had he done things like this before? Yes. Did he care? No.

Their Friendsgiving had been something they’d done for years.

It was always on the Friday because Mason had the restaurant, and it was easier for him to leave his staff to do their job after the big day.

If Ryder had known about this plan, he could have been with his blood family.

They asked him to come every year, but he’d always opted to spend Christmas with them instead because Thanksgiving was for his found family.

Not this year. If things got serious with Ethan and his fuck buddy, and Mason finally pulled his head out of his ass about Zeb, Ryder would really be on his own.

The last thing he wanted was to be in a relationship, though.

It was something he’d never do to himself again.

His phone pinged a few times—no doubt his friends poking fun at him for having a tantrum.

He’d read them later. Right now, he needed a distraction.

It was Friday night, and the best distraction he could think of was finding a body to fuck.

He’d found two bodies, but something was wrong.

After only being in the bar for a few minutes, a couple had approached him.

The woman had said she wanted to watch her husband get fucked by Ryder Quinn, and he’d looked like all his Christmases had come at once.

They were both hot as hell, so Ryder was up for it.

A quick cab ride back to their place, and tongues and hands were everywhere.

The guy couldn’t stop touching Ryder’s body.

He loved his muscles being worshipped. He’d worked hard on his body, and was more than happy for people to enjoy it.

The problem was, his body wasn’t enjoying it.

The guy, whose name he’d forgotten, was fucking his wife from behind while she was trying to wake up Ryder’s flagging cock.

This had never happened to him before. He usually walked about with a permanent hard-on, so why the fuck was he all limp?

Two gorgeous people fucking in front of him should have had his dick at full mast, but nothing.

The poor woman was trying her best, but no such luck.

Ryder needed to do something, but his brain kept wandering to earlier in the evening with his friends, and despite the woman’s best efforts, he wouldn’t be fucking anyone tonight.

He needed to get out of here. How could he do this without being rude?

It was nothing they’d done wrong. On a normal day, he’d have given them both such a hard fucking they’d have needed to spend all weekend in bed recovering.