Chapter 9

Ryder

Saturday 11.12pm

Since I’ve spent the past twelve months sleeping alone, I don’t have to think too hard about why I’m not fast asleep right now.

While Millie’s asleep, like last night I’m wide awake, staring at a knot in the ceiling, and listening to her steady, soft breathing.

Everything about her being here has disrupted my routine and wrecked the order I had in my life.

A year ago I left and willingly walked away from a career that had made me a millionaire before I hit twenty-five.

I was prepared to do whatever it took to get out and it never for a second bothered me this might be where I spend the rest of my life.

If I hadn’t left when I did, I wouldn’t have had a life, let alone a career.

I’d convinced myself this was a sideways step, a necessary pause on my life to figure out how to move forward.

And until about an hour ago, I had no reason to want to go back. No reason to dig up a past I’m trying to bury.

But something Millie said had planted itself firmly in my brain. And like an itch I can’t scratch it’s making me crazy. Would you ever go back?

That’s the question I’ve done my best to avoid thinking about since I got here.

If it were a case of would I, I would go back to my nice apartment in LA if I could. And talking about it with a woman who couldn’t possibly understand why I can’t only makes it harder.

All it took was for a sweet and sexy blonde to show up and remind me of everything I’m missing.

For the first time since arriving, I’m beginning to wonder if I even have a life worth living.

I spend my days exercising, training for a fight that will never come. I hunt, I fish, chop wood, I watch movies, porn, and when I can get it I smoke a joint, get wasted and call Cindy.

For the most part, I can tolerate the isolation and everything that comes with it.

I can deal with the frozen pipes, the lack of WIFI, the need for a back up generator, and no hot water or air-con in summer.

What I can’t deal with is the knowledge this now feels like a prison I constructed to trick myself into thinking I was free.

But unlike Millie when the snow thaws and the roads are clear, she can leave. She can go anywhere and see anyone and anything she wants.

I throw back the covers and shrug on my boxers as I look at Millie in the flickering firelight.

As I watch her sleep, watch the tops of her breasts rise and fall, something in my chest starts to burn.

I watch her, wondering if she knows how beautiful she is, how much damage she’s inflicted since she arrived.

When the burn doesn’t ease, I recognize it for what it is and tear my eyes away from her.

I sit on the side of the bed, head in hands, and feel about as shitty as I did the first few months out here.

I’d adjusted. Gotten used to doing without. But Millie’s presence has been enough to stir up all the memories of life before my self-imposed exile.

Everything about her is tempting me from the path I was on. From her body to her questions, to the desire to repeat this whenever and however I can.

If I had any sense, I’d not take this any further than sex or do anything else to make her think this can be anything other than physical.

I should back off, do the bare minimum, stop letting my cock do my thinking, and ignore the stupid need to pretend to be a decent guy.

But before I can think about what message I’m sending, I’m on my feet and heading towards the loft.

As I climb the ladder, I already know this is dumber than dumb. I need to set clear boundaries, and this will only cover them in a layer of sentimentality that will lead nowhere good.

Despite knowing this is a bad idea, I try to fool myself into believing I can do this under the guise of helping Cindy redeem this weekend.

I find what I need in the loft, and like a moron, I spend the next hour trying to be as stealthy as possible.

As I step back and look at my handy work, I wonder if Cindy was right to worry about me spending so much time alone.

Maybe I should talk to her more.

With a muttered head shake, I slide back into bed, look at the shit I just did for a woman who’ll be gone in a day or two, and as I drift into an uneasy sleep, I’m completely convinced I really am losing my mind.

***

Millie

Sunday 6.03am Christmas Day

I open my eyes to snow falling outside and take a few moments to remember where I am, and with who.

I yawn, and stretch out my back, feeling relatively happy considering I should be waking up in my old bedroom with Adam beside me.

With a sigh, I roll over, and my eyes pop at the subtle change to the cabin. I sit up, sure I’m seeing things as I stare at the fairy lights that have been strung around the cabin.

I bolt upright and forget I’m still naked as I jump out of bed and scramble to find something to put on.

I settle on Ryder’s shirt and am yanking it over my head when he appears with something in his hand.

Still reeling from the shock of seeing the lights he put up when I was asleep, I’m perfectly stunned when he kisses me softly and pushes my phone into my hand. “Merry Christmas,” he says.

I look down and at the illuminated panel and the missed calls, tears spring to my eyes. “You fixed my phone? How?”

He shrugs. “I put it in a bag of rice.”

I’m so happy, I throw my arms around his neck, and don’t care if he doesn’t want a hug.

But he doesn’t reject me, just slides his arms around me and squeezes. I pull back and beam at him. “Thank you,” I whisper.

A faint smile appears before he presses a kiss to my nose. “Call your mom. I’ll check on the caribou.”

My jaw drops. “You’re cooking reindeer?”

For a horrible moment, I think this is some bizarre anti-Christmas ritual, but he gives me a half-smile. “Yeah. But don’t worry, it’s not Rudolph.”

I choke on a laugh and trail after him into the kitchen and find more evidence of his abrupt about-face.

I pick up a bag of homemade couscous with cranberry, pistachios, and chili. “Cindy’s care package?”

He picks up a cup of coffee and nods. “You want breakfast? Some muesli or granola is floating around somewhere.”

I’m not sure what prompted this turnaround, but considering the alternative, I keep my mouth shut and nod.

“Let me get dressed and call mom, and I’ll help you.”

When he doesn’t answer but slides a mug towards me, I take my coffee with a smile and decide I may as well climb back into bed to make my call.

I’m not sure if I’m going to enjoy eating a reindeer, but weirdly it’s almost fitting.

And since Ryder is obviously trying, who am I to complain?

I clear my throat, ignore the numerous other calls and messages I’ve missed since I arrived, and press the phone to my ear.

My mother answers sounding about as worried and stressed as she always does on Christmas morning.

By now my siblings will have arrived with their better halves and she and dad will be dealing with a house filled with excitable kids and happy couples.

“Millicent! Where are you? I get a warbled message from you and an email saying not to expect you?”

I grimace. “I’m so sorry mom. I should have explained better, but I had a last-minute change of plans and I had an issue with my phone.”

She sighs heavily. “Is this about that Adam boy?”

I frown at my bare toes. “Um, yes. Sort of. Why do you ask?”

“Oh dear. How much did you have to drink that night, Millicent?”

I groan and shrink against the headboard. “I was sort of, upset.”

At the change of tone, I know I must have told her far more than I intended to. “I’m so sorry, darling. I know you thought this Adam person was the one. But honestly, when you told me how he ended things, I can’t help but feel he was not someone your father and I want seeing you.”

That does it. My throat closes over, and tears spring up again. My voice comes out choked. “Thanks mom. And I’m sorry I didn’t make it there. I couldn’t face, um…”

Her voice drops a little lower. “I know. It’s not easy being the only singleton. I hope you’re having a good time with Cindy? She was always a nice girl. And the retreat sounds like a wonderful place to be.”

I take a sip of my coffee and blink at the change in taste. Ryder’s added cinnamon, and there’s a hint of caramel.

I smile and look at the man I’ll be spending Christmas day with instead of Cindy. “I never made it to the retreat. The weather was too bad.”

“Oh! Oh no. I hope you aren’t stuck in some dreadful Holiday Inn all by yourself?”

Warmth spreads through my chest at the concern in her voice. “Cindy’s brother rescued me. I’ll be staying with him until the weather clears.”

Her uncertainty comes down the line. “Oh, well that’s good. I hope you’re managing to enjoy yourself?”

I nearly choke on my coffee as I think of a way I can answer that without giving myself away.

My mom is as conservative as they come, so hearing her daughter jumped into bed with a man she just met isn’t going to yield a good result.

But with the squeals of children in the background and my brother’s irritated voice in the background, I’m suddenly aware that I am enjoying myself.

Probably more than I would have done if I’d had to put up with my brother trying to set me up with his equally desperate friends just so I have a date for New Year like he did last Christmas, or deal with his wife asking me if I’m a lesbian.

“I’m having a fabulous time, mom,” I say.

And as Ryder meets my eye, and I look at the lights he hung just to make me happy, I realize there is nowhere else I’d rather spend Christmas.

***

Ryder

As I munch my way through a bowl of granola, I try not to listen to Millie as she fills her mom in on why she missed Christmas.

When she mentions Cindy, I know I’m going to have to tread carefully when it comes time for Millie to leave.

I need to make it clear to her that Cindy can’t know about this. The last thing I need is either of them getting the wrong idea and thinking this is something when it isn’t.

Even if I wanted it to be, it can’t be something.

I may not have a life, but Millie does. And as much as I’d like her to jump on a plane every so often and spend the weekend with me here, I know even thinking it makes me about as selfish as Cindy accuses me of being.

I push back my empty bowl and watch Millie sitting cross-legged on my bed, wearing my shirt, coffee in one hand, phone in the other.

Her eyes keep drifting to me and her interest in what her mom is saying seems to be waning.

Sure enough, she starts to wind up the call promising to connect with her mom again just as soon as she can.

With a sigh, she climbs off my bed and smiles as she walks towards me. She looks incredibly sexy in my shirt.

It’s so big, it skims her ass, and has slipped down her slender shoulders, exposing her upper arm.

Eyes on her smooth skin, I have to chase away thoughts of picking her up and taking her back to bed.

She sits opposite me and places her phone on the table. She pours herself a bowl of cereal and sends me a pointed look. “Have you called Cindy?”

I shake my head. “Not yet. She’ll want to talk to you, too.”

She adds milk and looks at me through her lashes. “So, what do you want to do today?”

I drain the last of my coffee as my eyes drift to her chest. “More of what we have been doing, I guess.”

Her eyebrow arches. “We can’t do that all day, though.”

I shrug. “Maybe not. But I’m willing to give it a shot.”

She sends me a smile that lets me know she’s not opposed to the idea. “I’m going a little stir crazy. I wouldn’t mind getting some fresh air. Maybe we could go for a hike? I’d love to take some photos now I can.”

I look out the window and frown. “We’ll be hiking as soon as Cindy can figure out how to get you.”

Her smile falters before she nods. “Or she gives up and you just drive me back to the airport.”

It’s the first time we’ve acknowledged there will be an end to this, and if it weren’t so damn early maybe I’d be open to discuss it.

But with the entire day ahead of us, and no way of knowing whether Cindy can get to her today, or tomorrow, I shove the conversation aside and settle on a compromise.

“I do need to check on the roof. If you want you can hold the ladder, and make sure I don’t break my neck, I can show you around the property and you can take some photos. Just no photos of me.”

Her lips tug upward. “Sounds great. I’ll go get dressed and use your delightful outhouse.”

She grabs her phone, and gets to her feet, giving me a good view of a set of legs I’m hoping to have wrapped around me sooner rather than later.

I make a grab for her and slide my hands up her legs. “Or we could go back to bed.”

She smiles down at me, then leans in to kiss me. “As much as I’d like that, I really need to pee.”

I cover a smile, and when my phone starts to vibrate, I reluctantly agree to let her go get dressed.

My eyes still on Millie as she bends down to pick up her clothes, I answer and prepare to reassure my little sister I’m doing everything in my power to make her friend as happy as a man like me can do.

***

Millie

10.13am Sunday Christmas Day

Now dressed, and desperate to use the outhouse, Ryder intercepts me and slides his phone into my hand. “Cindy. I’ll get dressed and meet you by the garage.”

I slip out the door, pleased I don’t have to fake being happy or hold my bladder any longer when I press the phone to my ear. “Hi! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas to you too! Ryder said you’re about to go for a tour?”

I close the outhouse door and wedge the phone on my shoulder as I decide whether to go ahead and pee while I’m on the phone. “I am. Can I call you back? I need to pee.”

She laughs. “Oh! Go ahead. Put me out of my misery and tell me Ryder’s behaving himself.”

I smile and give up waiting and settle on the freezing toilet seat. “He’s been fine. Great actually. He’s definitely thawing out.”

“Really?”

I smile as I think about how much trouble he’s gone to. We haven’t exactly talked about what will happen when I leave, but given the ever so brief conversation we had, I can’t presume anything has changed.

This can’t be permanent. Can it?

“Millie? Are you still there?”

I clear my throat and scramble to find the right reply. “Yes, really. He’s been incredibly accommodating given the circumstances.”

Her disbelief is audible. “Hmm. Well, that’s good, I guess. I mean, I hope it hasn’t been too awkward? Sleeping arrangements and all that?”

That she’s only now considering that is a little strange, considering she knows how small Ryder’s cabin is.

“Come to think of it, where are you sleeping?”

I swallow hard and try to sound confident. “The loft. On the couch.”

“Oh okay. That makes sense, I guess.”

At the doubt in her voice, and the shivers running down my spine, I’m glad for the excuse to end the call. “I need to go. Ryder’s probably waiting for me.”

“He said you were going to help him. Good. Go hold the ladder steady and let me know what you think of his property. I’ll check in with you both later and see if the roads are opening up.”

“Great, thanks,” I say with less enthusiasm than I should feel.

I end the call, wondering what Ryder would say if I told him I was considering staying longer than the weekend.

Since I have no idea if he’d welcome that idea, I push the thought aside and try to make the most of my time here.

Thanks to Ryder I have my phone operating again, so I’m eager to contact my boss and make up for lost photo ops.

I finish up and shove Ryder’s phone in my pocket so I can utilize the snow to wash my hands again before I find him.

I blow on my fingers, making sure they’re dry before I pull on my waterproof gloves.

I find him in almost the same spot in the garage. Only this time, he’s not chopping wood, he’s hefting a ladder under his shoulder, and frowning. “There’s a leak in here. I noticed it a few nights ago. I need to get up and take a look.”

I nod and jam my hands into my pocket. “Do you do all the maintenance around here?”

He waits until we’re outside before he nods. “Most of it. Yeah. But Pops never bothered to get electricity hooked up. I got someone to connect it when I moved in. I’m not sure I’d have stayed here this long running on a generator.”

I think of his DVD collection and smile. “Do you miss anything from your old life?”

He leans the ladder against the wall and eyes me. “Like what?”

I shrug and watch him climb the ladder. When he’s half-way up, I plant my feet and grab the sides to steady it.

I look up at him as I reply. “I don’t know. People. Music. Going out for dinner.”

His voice comes out fainter as he disappears. “Mexican food,” he says.

I squint upwards and shield my eyes from the early morning sunlight. “Aren’t there Mexican restaurants in Anchorage?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

I frown up at the roof. “You’ve never checked?”

He doesn’t answer for so long, I think he’s ignoring me, but after a lot of muttering, I hear him. “I need to patch this hole up. And no, I haven’t.”

“Pity. Since I didn’t get to the resort, my boss will be wanting another angle for this trip.”

“Another angle?”

I stare upward and dodge snow as he moves it off the roof. “I came here to showcase Cindy’s retreat and to show an alternative Christmas. It’s like a story in pictures. I still write the review, but most marketing comes from the way it’s presented on Instagram.”

I don’t know if he’s even listening, so I quit using my energy up, and pull my phone out of my pocket, and manage to take a few photos of the surrounding mountains, and the old bath.

He doesn’t say anything bar cursing and banging as he battles with snow and ice to find the leak, so I mentally start to plan a conversation with my boss.

The next half hour is spent in silence, with me hanging on the end of the ladder, freezing, and stamping my feet in place to keep the circulation flowing.

When he finally deems the leak fixed, I’m so cold, all I want is a cup of coffee and to sit in front of the fire again.

And when he swings a leg over the ladder, cheeks, and nose red, I’m not sure if I’m as keen to go see what else is beyond the fence line.

He doesn’t offer any conversation as we trudge back through the snow.

I wait outside the garage as Ryder steps inside, thinking about possible solutions to currently not having photos or anything resembling the original plan I had.

I stand in the doorway, and stare down at my chipping nail polish and speak without thinking. “I may even be able to convince him to let me stay a few more days. Maybe go to Fairbanks.”

When he comes out, I wonder if I can spin this trip to include him.

Ryder’s cabin does have a rustic charm inside and out. And a famous athlete would make an incredible story.

I chew on my lip as I try to find a way to ask him. “I probably should have mentioned this earlier, but I have an expense account. I’m sure my boss would be happy if I paid to replace the food I’ve eaten.”

He stares at me like I’m a moron but doesn’t say a word.

I swallow hard, unease building at his expression. “I’d like to include you in the photos.”

His face tightens, and whatever goodwill I’d been granted slips away as he growls the words. “You can’t tell your boss about me,” he says.

I suck in a frosty breath. “I wasn’t—”

He doesn’t even let me finish. “If you so much as publish a photo of me, or my cabin, or mention my name, I will sue both you and your shitty little magazine, got it?”

My thoughts tug back to the guns I found in his loft and the way he can destroy an opponent in the cage.

For the first time since arriving, a shiver of fear runs through me. “I won’t tell my boss,” I whisper.

His scowl appears and he looks so menacing, I take a step back as I struggle not to panic as fear starts to overtake my body.