15. Ryan
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Ryan
The knock came after noon.
Sharp. Loud.
Shit.
It was Nate.
I froze. The others did too. Lila’s face paled, panic flashing in her eyes.
Colt glanced at me. Jaxon muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair.
The storm raged outside, wind howling against the cabin, but it was nothing compared to the tension that just slammed into the room.
I stood first. Someone had to.
“Ryan?” Lila whispered, her voice tight.
“It’s fine,” I said, even though I wasn’t too sure. “Stay here.”
The air was thick as I crossed to the door. My chest felt heavy, guilt pressing hard as I slid open the door.
He was soaked as he stepped inside.
“Hey,” he declared. “Storm’s bad. Thought I’d check on Lila.”
I moved aside, letting him in.
“She’s fine.”
My voice sounded stiff, even to me.
Nate stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, his boots leaving water on the wooden floor. He shook his wet hair out of his face, his eyes scanning the room, sharp and calculating.
I could feel the weight of his gaze, like he was piecing together something he didn’t quite like.
He glanced at Colt and Jaxon, both of whom were trying to act casual, but I could see the tension in their bodies, the way they shifted on their feet, their eyes flicking to Lila.
“Good,” Nate said, his voice firm. “It’s good to see you all survived the storm. What a nightmare!”
He moved farther into the room, and I stayed close, unwilling to let him go too far without knowing what he was after.
Behind him, Colt and Jaxon exchanged uneasy glances. I caught Colt fiddling with his sleeves, his jaw tight.
Jaxon shifted his weight on the counter, looking like he was trying not to care but failing at it.
I glanced over to Lila, who was by the window, wrapped in that damn blanket.
She looked fragile, almost lost in the oversized fabric, her hazel eyes searching the room. Her gaze met mine, a silent plea in her eyes, and I gave her a small, barely noticeable nod.
Nate followed my gaze and his expression softened, a hint of concern replacing the initial wariness in his eyes.
“Lila,” he said, his tone gentler now, his steps slow as he moved toward her. “You okay?”
She nodded quickly, her lips curving into a forced smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Yeah. I’m good,” she said, but the words felt hollow.
Nate wasn’t buying it, and neither was I.
Fuck .
“You sure?” he pressed, stepping closer, his protective instinct kicking in. “It’s bad out there. We never normally have this, it sucks. We can’t even ski.”
“I’m sure,” Lila replied, her voice a little too quick, too sharp. “It’s fine. I’m still glad I came.”
Nate’s face softened, and he put a hand on her shoulder, his thumb brushing over the fabric of her blanket. “Yeah, me too.”
That hit me hard.
He was so protective of Lila.
We hadn’t even thought about him last night.
Jaxon cleared his throat, breaking the silence that hung in the air like a thick fog. “We’ve been keeping her company. Weathering the storm together.”
Nate reached out, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Well, I just wanted to check in. I’ll head back before the roads get worse. If you need anything, call me.”
“We will,” she promised.
As Nate turned to leave, he gave me a quick nod. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her, Ryan. All of you.”
“Of course,” I replied.
He left without a hint of suspicion, and the door clicked shut behind him, leaving only the sound of the storm outside.
The second he was gone, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. My chest finally loosened, and I ran a hand down my face, trying to shake off the tension that still clung to me.
“That went well,” Colt said, grinning.
“Too well,” Jaxon added, though he looked just as relieved.
Lila stayed quiet, her eyes on the door, but when she looked at me, there was a flicker of gratitude in her hazel gaze.
“It’s fine,” I said softly, more to myself than anyone else. “We’ve got this.”
I just hoped I was right.
* * *
The storm outside raged on, wind slamming against the cabin, but inside, it was quiet. Peaceful, almost.
Dinner had been casual, filled with the kind of forced small talk we used to smooth over the tension left in Nate’s wake. Afterward, Colt and Jaxon had retreated to their corners, both conveniently giving Lila and me some space.
It wasn’t planned, but it felt intentional.
Now, it was just the two of us.
Lila sat across from me on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her, a mug of tea cradled in her hands.
She’d wrapped herself in the same blanket she’d been clinging to earlier, making her look even smaller. Her hazel eyes were distant, like she was lost in her thoughts.
“I’m glad Nate seems okay,” she said softly, breaking the silence.
“He’s worried about you,” I replied, leaning back in my seat with a beer in hand. “Can’t really blame him for that.”
She let out a quiet sigh, her gaze fixed on the steam rising from her tea. “I hate lying to him.”
I didn’t respond. What could I say? She wasn’t lying alone.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she continued.
My chest tightened. “Neither did I.”
Her eyes lifted to meet mine, and for a moment, we just stared at each other. I couldn’t tell if she was searching for forgiveness, reassurance, or something else entirely.
“But…” She hesitated, biting her lip before pressing on. “I don’t regret it.”
The air shifted, the tension between us crackling like static. My pulse quickened.
“I don’t either,” I admitted, my voice low.
Her lips parted, her breath hitching just slightly. It was enough to make me move. Before I could overthink it, I slid off the armchair and onto the couch beside her.
Her tea was abandoned on the table as I reached for her, my hand brushing against hers. It was such a small touch, but it sent a jolt up my arm, like lightning.
“Ryan…” Her voice trembled, but she didn’t pull away.
I cupped her cheek, my thumb brushing over the soft curve of her skin. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and when they opened again, they were filled with a quiet vulnerability that drew me in like a magnet.
When her eyes opened again, they were glistening, filled with something raw and unspoken that pulled me in deeper. I leaned closer, slow enough to give her the chance to stop me, to change her mind.
She didn’t.
The moment our lips met, the world seemed to stop. Her lips were soft and warm, tasting faintly of the tea she’d been drinking, and as she melted into me, I couldn’t hold back the sigh that escaped my chest.
It wasn’t just a kiss.
It was a confession, a silent plea, a promise. Every brush of our lips, every shift of her body closer to mine, spoke of things we couldn’t yet say out loud.
I deepened the kiss, my hand sliding from her cheek to tangle gently in her hair. She let out a soft, almost inaudible sound that sent a wave of warmth coursing through me.
Her fingers curled into my shirt, holding on as if she needed the connection as much as I did.
Time seemed to blur as we lost ourselves in each other. The storm outside raged on, but inside, it was quiet, intimate, safe.
When we finally pulled apart, our foreheads rested together, our breaths mingling in the small space between us. Her cheeks were flushed, her hazel eyes searching mine with an intensity that stole what little breath I had left.
“This is… complicated,” I murmured.
Her fingers curled into my shirt, holding me close. “I know.”
I pulled back just enough to look at her, to really see her—the way her cheeks flushed, the way her eyes shone. She was so damn beautiful it hurt.
But even as I held her, the guilt lingered at the edges of my mind. Not just for Nate… but for Jaxon and Colt.
Because I wasn’t blind.
I’d seen the way Jaxon looked at her, the way Colt’s usual bravado softened when she was around. They felt it, too. Whatever this was between us, it wasn’t mine alone.
And that scared the hell out of me.
“I think…” I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. “I think I’m falling for you, Lila.”
Her breath caught, her eyes wide. “Ryan…”
“I know it’s messy,” I said quickly, cutting her off before she could protest. “I know I shouldn’t feel this way. But I do. I can’t help it.”
She reached for my hand, her fingers threading through mine. The simple touch steadied me even as it sent my heart racing.
“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted. “This is new for me. For all of us.”
I nodded, my grip on her hand tightening slightly. “Same here.”
We sat there in silence. But even with the uncertainty, the guilt, I couldn’t let her go.
Not yet.
When she leaned her head against my shoulder, I wrapped an arm around her, holding her close. Her warmth seeped into me, and surprisingly, the guilt wasn’t the loudest thing in my mind.
Instead, there was hope.