Page 100 of Say Yes to the Nemesis

I stare at my phone until it fades to black. And then I smile. Because for once, I don’t want to say no. Not even a little.

When I show up, I’m nervous. My bag’s too full. I know I’m going to freak when I have to drag it around and Ryan sees how ridiculously overpacked it is.

This is a mistake. But I can’t alter my course now. Not when I’m so close.

I knock twice, then open the door, expecting a decent suite. I bite my lip and breathe in deep and order myself not to care if it’s small or smells like old sandwiches or something.

What I find is luxury. Like… luxury, luxury.

The room has vaulted ceilings, a king-sized bed that looks like it belongs in a movie, a private patio with a firepit, and a view of the mountains that makes my stomach drop a little. It’s beautiful and wild and totally surreal.

The private patio with a firepit seals the deal. I feel a little unsteady in my own skin, like I’m trapped inside a dream where everything’s impossibly perfect.

Ryan’s already here, lounging on the couch as though he ordered up this luxury like room service, looking infuriatingly edible in casual gray sweatpants and a T-shirt that hints at afresh shower. He throws a lazy smile that makes me way too self-conscious.

His eyes drag over me, slowly taking in every detail.

“You wore that on purpose.”

I glance down at myself. Black jeans. His old jersey from college. Oh.

“You asked for casual,” I say, my voice doing this little squeaky thing that gives me away.

“I didn’t ask for psychological warfare.”

I kick off my shoes, trying to act cool, even when I feel anything but.

“This place is insane.”

He shrugs, making it look effortless, like all of this just fell into his lap.

“Team sponsors comped it for the offseason. I just made a call.”

I raise an eyebrow, pretending I’m not impressed, while secretly I’m reeling from how easy he makes it sound.

“Must be nice.”

“So you’re not mad?” he teases, leaning back like he’s got all the time in the world to wait for my answer.

I want to be mad. I want to pretend I’m not already too attached to the idea of disappearing into this life with him, but it’s a losing battle.

It’s a mistake to spend more time with him. I know it is. But there’s a defiant pulse in my blood that whispersmaybe it’s not.

He studies my face, looking almost nervous.

“Is this okay? We don’t have to stay here. I just… I wanted us to be somewhere safe. Somewhere that doesn’t feel like a set.”

The soft, unsure way he says it makes me melt.

“Yeah. It’s okay.”

We spend the afternoon outside wrapped in blankets, bundled up tight against the mountain chill, sitting by thefirepit. I’m already savoring the way the world feels when it’s just the two of us.

There’s no one else around, just us and a big expanse of wild scenery. It’s kind of incredible. I didn’t even know Ryan liked marshmallows, let alone that he’s an absolute menace with a roasting stick. He laughs at the mess, the crispy black blobs that drip into the glowing red-orange of the fire if you hold them over the flame for too long.

“I like them burnt,” he exclaims. He holds a skewered bit of charcoal as evidence.

“You’re a monster.”