Chapter 21 #2
"Then what is it like?" Tears burn my eyes and I hate it.
Hate that he can make me feel this much.
"Tell me, Ryder. Was any of this real, or was I just performing again without knowing it?
Because Chad said everything with me is a performance, and maybe he was right.
Maybe I was so busy playing the part of your girlfriend for the scouts that I didn't realize you were just stringing me along for the optics. "
"It was always real for me." His voice is raw. Desperate. "From the beginning—" He hesitates, and that pause says everything. "But yeah. It helped. With the scouts. Preston wasn't wrong about that part."
The truth lands like a punch to the gut.
"Right." My voice comes out flat. Dead. "Thanks for the honesty."
I turn toward the steps.
"I'm in love with you."
I freeze. Hand on the porch railing. Breath caught in my throat.
"What?"
"I'm in love with you, Piper." Ryder steps closer. "And I need you to come inside before you freeze to death, because I'm about to say a lot of things and I'd prefer you didn't get hypothermia while I'm trying to tell you that I'm an idiot."
"Ryder—"
"Inside. Please." He holds the door open. "Five minutes. If you still want to leave after that, I won't stop you."
The cold bites through my purple parka. My fingers are numb. And despite everything, I step inside.
The cabin is warm. Too warm after the freezing air. Ryder closes the door behind us, and suddenly we're in the space that's become as familiar as my own. His couch where we watched hockey. His kitchen where he made me coffee. His life, which I somehow became part of without meaning to.
"I already told Preston no," Ryder says before I can speak. "This morning. I just hung up with him right before you knocked."
I stare at him. "What?"
"I'm not going to the NHL meetings Thursday. I'm not flying out. I'm not taking any of the offers." He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I'm accepting the lieutenant promotion at the firehouse. I'm staying in Ashwood Falls."
"You can't—"
"I'm not giving it up for you," he says, and the words stop me cold. "That's what you think this is, right? That I'm sacrificing my dream for some girl I fake dated? That I'm going to wake up in five years and resent you for it?"
The accuracy makes my chest tight. "Yes."
"You're wrong." He steps closer. "I'm not giving up anything. I'm choosing what I want. There's a difference."
"The NHL is what you want," I say, but my voice wavers. "You've been working toward it your whole life."
"I've been working toward what I thought I should want," Ryder corrects. "What Dad would've wanted. What would make sense of losing him—like if I made it to the big leagues, his death would mean something. But that's not how it works."
He moves closer, and I can see the certainty in his eyes. The same look he had when he scored the winning goal last night. Absolute conviction.
"My dad didn't die so I could play professional hockey," Ryder says quietly. "He died saving a family. He died doing the job he loved, in the town he loved, surrounded by people who mattered to him. And for years I thought honoring that meant chasing glory. But it doesn't."
"Then what does it mean?" I whisper.
"It means choosing purpose over glory. Roots over fame. Mattering to the people who matter to me." He reaches for my hand, and I let him take it. "It means becoming lieutenant. Fighting fires. Living in this town. Building a life that feels like home."
"But—"
"You're not the sacrifice, Piper." His voice is rough. "You're the reason I'm finally happy. You're the reason I want to build a life here instead of running from it. You made me realize that staying isn't settling—it's choosing what matters."
Tears blur my vision. "What if you change your mind?"
"I won't."
"You don't know that."
"I do." He cups my face with both hands, forcing me to look at him.
"Because I've spent the last month pretending to date you and falling in love with you for real.
And the happiest I've ever been wasn't scoring the winning goal last night.
It was sitting in your cabin watching you edit videos.
It was teaching you to ice skate. It was every ordinary moment when I got to be near you and pretend I had the right to keep you. "
"You do have the right," I say, and my voice breaks. "You always did. I just—Preston made it sound like you were using me. Like the whole thing was a strategy and I was too stupid to see it."
"Preston's an idiot who sees everything as a transaction.
" Ryder's thumbs brush away my tears. "Yeah, the arrangement helped my image with the scouts.
But that's not why I fell for you. I fell for you because you're brave enough to reinvent yourself.
Because you see through my bullshit. Because you make me laugh and you made friends with my sister in twenty-four hours and you applied for a job in this town without telling anyone. "
I blink. "How did you—"
"Chief mentioned it yesterday. Said you'd be perfect for the position." A smile tugs at his mouth. "Were you planning to tell me you're staying?"
"I was going to tell you today," I admit. "Before everything exploded. I applied for the community outreach coordinator job at the firehouse. I turned down the reality show. I want to stay in Ashwood Falls."
"Because of me?"
"Because of me." I meet his eyes. "Because this is the first place I've felt like myself in years. Because I love this town and these people and this life. You're part of that. A big part. But I'm not staying just for you—I'm staying because I finally figured out who I am when I'm not performing."
"And who's that?"
"Someone who wants to build a real life. With real friends. And a real relationship with a real firefighter who's terrible at texting and excellent at rescuing me from moose."
Ryder's smile breaks through, genuine and bright. "I'm pretty good at rescuing you from bad ideas too."
"Debatable."
"Piper." He leans his forehead against mine. "I love you. Not the influencer version or the girlfriend-for-the-scouts version. You. The person who yells at trees and cries at hockey games and makes terrible coffee."
"My coffee's not terrible."
"It's terrible," he says, but he's grinning. "And I love that too."
"I love you," I whisper. "Even though you're emotionally constipated and you waited until I was about to leave to tell me you're staying."
"I'm working on my timing."
"Work faster."
His hands slide to the zipper of my purple parka, pulling it down slowly. "You're still wearing this."
"You said it was rated to minus-forty."
"Best advice I ever gave you." He pushes the parka off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. "Kept you here long enough for me to fall in love with you."
And then he kisses me.
Not the careful kiss from our first night together. Not the desperate kiss in his bed. This kiss is different—it's a promise. His hands slide into my hair, tilting my head back, and I grab fistfuls of his thermal shirt to pull him closer. He tastes like coffee and relief and coming home.
"Stay," he murmurs against my mouth.
"I'm staying," I say between kisses. "I already told you I'm staying."
"Stay here. With me." He pulls back just enough to look at me, and his eyes are dark with want. "Not fake dating. Not for content. Just us."
"Just us," I agree.
He kisses me again, deeper this time, walking me backward until my spine hits the wall. I make a sound that's half laugh, half gasp, and he swallows it with another kiss. His hands find my waist under my jacket, warm against my sides, and I arch into him.
"We should probably talk more," I manage when we break for air.
"We can talk later." His mouth moves to my neck and I forget why talking seemed important. "We have time now. All the time we want."
"No more games," I say.
"No more games," he agrees, then grins against my skin. "Well. Except actual hockey games. Those continue."
I laugh and pull him back to my mouth. "I can live with that."
Outside, snow begins to fall. Inside Ryder's cabin—our cabin, now, in a way—we finally stop pretending. Stop performing. Stop worrying about scouts and agents and what any of this looks like from the outside.
It's just us. Real and messy and absolutely right.
And when we finally come up for air, breathless and smiling, Ryder threads his fingers through mine.
"For the record," he says, "Sage is going to be insufferable about being right."
"She earned it." I lean my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Strong and steady and here. "She told me this morning I needed to talk to you."
"Remind me to buy her something expensive."
"She'll probably just rearrange your furniture again."
"As long as you're here when she does it, I don't care."
I pull back to look at him. "You mean that."
"Every word." He kisses my forehead. Soft and sweet and certain. "You're home now, Piper. If you want to be."
"I want to be," I whisper.
And for the first time since Chad's betrayal, since leaving everything behind, since arriving in this crooked cabin next to a grumpy firefighter who became everything—I believe it.
This is home.
He is home.
And we're finally, perfectly real.