Troping Through the Snow by Alexa Riley

“She taught me how to make the frosting, so I think it still counts as hers as well,” I say as I slip around his comment. “I got you a whole box for you to take home.” I pat the pink box that I filled with a few that were left over from today.

“Awesome. Should we head upstairs?”

“What?” Is he flirting with me again? How do I get out of this? People don’t flirt with me, or at least I never thought they did. Frostie says otherwise, but I haven’t noticed until now.

“To your place so I can help you move some stuff.”

Oh god. I’m so dumb.

“Right,” I stutter, way too close to making a fool out of myself. Kane’s not hitting on me; he's being polite. Everyone in this town is nice for the most part. “There’s a dresser I want to move,” I tell him as we head up the stairs to my place.

“I’ve never been up here.” Kane takes in my small apartment, and I’m not sure how Frostie and Tinsel lived here together. This space is hardly big enough for one person.

“Yeah, I think you would have been dead. Jack and Clause are—”

“Oh I know.” He holds his hands up in surrender at the idea of going near either of them.

A pang of jealousy hits me. It’s sweet to see how a lot of the men in Troping treat the women they love. I moved here to get a fresh start, but seeing love everywhere makes it hard when it’s the kind of love I dream of.

“You work for Jack too,” I laugh. Tinsel’s husband is always hovering near her.

“I’m more scared of Tins than him,” he says, and I laugh harder.

“Fair.” I point to the dresser. “Can we move it over here?”

“Sure can.” He winks at me, and again I wonder if he’s flirting with me. Does it matter? He’ll move the dresser and then go. I don’t think he’s going to ask me out.

“Should I unload the drawers?” I did it once before thinking if I got everything out, I could move it myself. I didn’t move an inch, and I had to put everything back so my crap wasn’t everywhere.

“I think I got it.” He lifts the corner, testing the weight, and I step back out of his way. Kane grabs the dresser and lifts and makes it a few feet before he has to put it down.

“I can help,” I offer.

“Nah, it’s fine. I got it. You know I play on the football team?”

“Like on TV?” I ask, and he chuckles.

“No, for Troping.”

“They have a football team?” How did I miss a stadium?

“The high school.”

“Oh right.” This guy is going to think I’m an idiot because I should have put that together. “You’re in high school?” Kane isn’t a small guy, and I was sure he was a few years older. He towers over me, but that’s easy to do. He’s not as big as Ryder, and where Kane is lean, Ryder is a tank. Why am I making this comparison?

“I mean, I did a few years ago.” He shrugs. “You know we should—”

“Remove the drawers?” I cut him off, thinking he might be close to asking me out. Even if he was, why would I turn him down? There’s no spark, but it could be putting my toe into the dating pool.

“I got it.” He grabs the dresser again, this time with a grunt.

I watch as he makes it across the room before the top drawer starts to slide out. I rush over to try and stop it, but it’s too late. My underwear and bras are spilling out, and Kane drops the dresser back down as he tries to make a grab for it. We knock into each other and end up falling backwards. I let out a small yelp when I hit the bed.

I’m thankful it’s not the floor, but Kane lands on top of me, knocking the air right out of my lungs.

“Sorry,” he rushes to say.

“It’s fine, but can you…ah…”

“Get off?” He chuckles, but thankfully I feel his body weight begin to lift. Then he’s completely gone and being tossed across the room like a ragdoll.

“What the fuck!” Ryder's voice booms through my small apartment as he towers over my bed. Is he bigger? He reaches down and grabs a handful of my panties that landed on the bed next to me. Seriously? That was never how I dreamed of Ryder seeing my panties for the first time. “Sweets, what the hell is going on?”

“Don’t call me that,” I snap as I scramble to get up. The word sweets is a trigger for me. “Kane, are you okay?” Ryder’s arm shoots out and grabs me so I can’t go over to check. Kane is standing with his back to the wall as far away as he can get. His brows are almost to his hairline as he takes in Ryder, and it reminds me of a deer caught in headlights.

“Boy, you have about a second to get the hell out of my woman's place.” Kane doesn’t have to be told twice.

“Sorry!” I shout after him.

“It’s okay, it happens around here,” Kane shouts back, but he’s already down the stairs so I only faintly hear him.

It takes me a second to really register Ryder is in Troping and in my home.

“What are you doing here?” I say, and I hate how breathy I sound.

“You know what I’m doing here,” he growls.

“Two years,” I whisper as I remember all the hurt and anger. “You’ve been gone for two years.”