Chapter 7 Ryder
Ryder
Lucy's hand is warm in mine.
I pull away from the curb and head toward the edge of town, which isn’t very far at all. The cab is silent except for the heater and the sound of our breathing. She hasn't let go of my hand. I'm not letting go of hers.
"Where are we going?" she asks. Her voice is quiet. Almost shy.
"Somewhere private." I glance at her. "Somewhere we can be alone. Really alone."
"We're alone now."
"In a truck on a public road." I lace our fingers tighter. "I want more than stolen moments in parking lots, Lucy. I want time."
She's quiet for a moment. Then: "What do you want it to be?"
The question makes my chest tight. Because I don't know. All I know is that this afternoon at her shop, when she said she was done waiting to be chosen, something in me broke open.
"I want you," I say. Simple. True. "For however long we have. I want to see where this goes."
"Even though you're leaving?"
"Especially because I'm leaving." I take the turn toward the old logging road. "I don't know how to make this work long-term. Don't know if I can be what you need. But Lucy, I know I want to try."
She squeezes my hand. "That's all I'm asking for."
The logging road is rough. The truck bounces over ruts and rocks. Tree branches scrape the sides. Lucy grips the handle above her door but doesn't ask where we're going. Just trusts me.
I don't deserve that trust. But I'm going to earn it anyway.
A quarter mile in, I turn onto an even smaller path. The trees open up and there it is.
The old Henderson hunting cabin sits in a clearing, backed by pines heavy with snow. Small. Maybe two rooms. Wood siding weathered to silver-gray. Stone chimney. Windows dark but intact. The roof sags a bit but it's solid.
I park and kill the engine.
"What is this place?" Lucy asks.
"Hunting cabin. Belongs to Mrs. Henderson but they haven't used it in years." I turn to look at her. "Connor and I used to come here when we were kids. When we needed to get away from everything. I asked her this afternoon if I could use it again. Said I needed some peace."
"Did she believe you?"
"She just handed me the key and told me to be careful." I trace my thumb over her knuckles. "She saw us at your shop. She knows something's going on. But she didn't ask questions."
Lucy's eyes go wide. "So the whole town will know by morning."
"Maybe. But Mrs. Henderson likes you. And she's known me since I was a kid. Connor and I used to hide out here when we needed space from our families." I meet her eyes. "She gave me the key without asking too many questions. I think she gets it."
"You can't know that for sure."
"No. But I'm choosing to trust her." I lift Lucy's hand. Press a kiss to her knuckles. "Because I need somewhere we can be alone. Really alone. And this is the best I could do on short notice."
She looks at the cabin. Then back at me. "How long have you been planning this?"
"Since you texted me this afternoon. Since I knew where this was heading." I search her face. "Is this okay? We don't have to stay. We can just drive around if you want. Or I can take you home."
"No." The word comes fast. Certain. "Show me inside."
The cabin is cold but dry. I flip the breaker by the door and lights flicker on. There's a woodstove in the corner with kindling already laid. A worn couch with faded cushions. A table with two mismatched chairs. A doorway leading to what looks like a bedroom.
It's not much. But it's private. And right now, that's everything.
Lucy walks the small space while I get the fire going. She runs her fingers along the back of the couch. Peeks into the bedroom. Comes back to stand by the stove as flames catch and start to spread.
"This is nice," she says. "Cozy."
"It's falling apart."
"It's private." She turns to face me. "No one knows we're here except Mrs. Henderson. And she's not going to tell."
"I hope not."
"Even if she does." Lucy steps closer. "Even if the whole town knows by morning. I don't regret this."
The words hit me square in the chest. Because she means them. I can see it in her eyes. This woman who spent her whole life playing it safe just walked into a situation that could blow up spectacularly, and she's not running.
She's choosing me anyway.
I close the distance between us. Frame her face with my hands. "You're sure about this? About us? Because once we start, there's no going back."
"I'm sure." She goes up on her toes. Brings her mouth close to mine. "I've been sure since I was fifteen years old. I'm just finally brave enough to do something about it."
I kiss her. Slow. Deep. Trying to pour everything I can't say into the press of my lips. She melts into me. Her hands slide up my chest and into my hair. The kiss deepens and I lose myself in the taste of her.
When we break apart, we're both breathing hard.
"We need to talk," I say.
"Now?" She sounds incredulous.
"Now." I take her hand. Lead her to the couch. Sit and pull her down next to me. "Before this goes any further. Before I lose the ability to think straight. We need to be clear about what we're doing."
She settles into the cushions. Tucks her legs under her. Watches me with eyes that are still dark from kissing. "Okay. Talk."
I take a breath. Try to organize thoughts that scatter every time I look at her.
"This afternoon you said you wanted me. You said you were done waiting. And Lucy, I want that too. I want you. But I need you to understand what you're getting into."
"I know you're leaving."
"In two weeks. January second." The date sits between us like a ticking clock. "My whole life is in Boston. My career. My apartment. My team. Everything."
"I know."
"And I'm not good at this." The admission burns. "Relationships. Staying. Being what someone needs. My ex proved that when she posted everything on social media. Every way I failed her. Every time I chose hockey over us. She wasn't wrong."
"I'm not her." Lucy's voice is firm. "I'm not asking you to choose between hockey and me. I know who you are. What you need."
"That doesn't change the fact that I failed at it before." I force myself to hold her gaze. "I'm the same guy who doesn't know how to balance career and relationship. Who disappears into training and travel and forgets to call. Who can't promise forever because I don't know if I'm capable of it."
Lucy is quiet for a moment. Then she shifts closer. Takes my face in her hands.
"Let me tell you what I need," she says.
"I need honesty. Even when it's hard. I need you to tell me when you're scared instead of running.
I need you to try." Her thumbs stroke my jaw.
"I don't need perfect, Ryder. I don't need promises you can't keep.
I just need you to show up and do your best. Can you do that? "
The question lodges somewhere behind my ribs. Because she's not asking for forever. Not asking me to be someone I'm not. Just asking me to try.
"Yeah," I say. "I can do that."
"Then that's enough." She kisses me softly. "For now, that's enough."
I want to believe her. Want to believe that trying is enough. That I won't inevitably fuck this up the way I fuck everything up.
"Connor can't know," I say. "Not yet."
"I know." She nods. "He'd lose his mind."
"And I'm leaving January second." The words taste bitter. "I don't know what happens after. Don't know if we can make this work long-distance."
"So we don't think about after." She cups my face. "We think about now. About tonight. About however many days we have before you leave. And then we figure it out."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that." Her eyes are fierce. Clear. "I'm not asking you for forever, Ryder. I'm asking you for now. Can you give me that?"
The question lodges in my chest. Because she's not asking for promises I can't keep. Not asking me to be someone I'm not. Just asking me to be here. With her. For as long as we have.
"Yeah," I say. "I can give you that."
"Then stop talking about all the ways this might end." She leans in. Brushes her lips against mine. "And start showing me why it's worth the risk."
I pull her onto my lap. She comes willingly. Straddles me with her knees on either side of my hips. I grip her waist, and she settles down against me. The position puts us at eye level. Lets me see every flicker of emotion across her face.
"I've been thinking about this," I say, voice rough, "since you got in my truck. About taking my time. Doing this right. Making you feel exactly how much I want you."
Her breath catches. "Oh."
"Unless you want to just talk more about rules and expectations."
"No." She frames my face with her hands. "No more talking. Just us. Just this."
I kiss her. Slow at first. Relearning the shape of her mouth. The way she sighs when I suck on her bottom lip. The small sound in the back of her throat when I trace her lower lip with my tongue.
She melts into me. Her hands slide from my face into my hair. Pull. The sting makes me groan and grind my hips up. She gasps at the contact. At the hard length of me pressing against her through denim.
"Ryder." My name comes out breathless.
"What do you need?"
"More." She rocks her hips. Seeking friction. "Everything. I want everything."
The words nearly undo me. But I force myself to slow down. To savor this. Because I don't know how many nights we'll have. Don't know when reality will crash back in.
Tonight might be all we get. I'm going to make it count.
I slide my hands under her sweater. Her skin is warm silk under my palms. I trace her ribcage, and she arches into the touch. Her breasts press against my chest, and I can feel her nipples peaked through lace.
"Can I take this off?" I ask.
"Yes." No hesitation. "Please."
I push the sweater up. She raises her arms, and I strip it over her head. Toss it aside. Then I'm looking at her in just jeans and a pale pink bra that does nothing to hide how turned on she is.
"Beautiful," I say. The word doesn't come close.