Ryder

 

“Just leave the damn phone alone,” said Ryder, his gruff voice loud over the crackling of the fire.

 

“I just want to see if I can get in touch with my parents,” Kara said. “They’re probably worried sick about me.”

 

Kara paced back and forth in the living room, trying over and over again to get her text to send. But all she received for her troubles was the same “massage send failure” over and over. She’d tried to calm down and relax for the evening, but the reality of her being stuck here in a cabin with a strange man like Ryder was beginning to dawn on her. He may have been about the hottest man she’d ever seen, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a stranger, and likely a criminal.

 

“Just fucking cool it,” said Ryder. “You’re making me nervous with all that pacing around.”

 

And, on top of everything, she realized, he was a real prick. Kara tried one more time to send the message. Once again, it failed to send, and she tossed her phone towards the couch. It landed right on Ryder’s stomach, and a pained grunt sounded from his mouth as it did.

 

“You want to not pelt me with your damn phone?” said Ryder, his tone impatient. “Or at least not throw it right onto one of my fucking cuts.”

 

“Sorry, sorry,” said Kara apologetically. “You, um, still feeling okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” said Ryder. “Just fine. Now quit asking.”

 

Kara looked him over. Sure, he wasn’t quite the mess he had been in the car, but he still looked pretty dinged up. She could only imagine the colorful bruises that’d be covering his body over the next few days—they’d match his tattoos.

 

“You need some food,” said Kara, eager to help and just as eager to find something to do to not think about her current situation.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” said Ryder. “Best thing you can do right now is to quit fuckin’ fussing over me.”

 

“You were in the snow for God knows how long, and you’re hurt. You need some food in you if you’re going to feel better.”

 

Ryder threw up his hands, apparently realizing that Kara was one of those girls whom there was no stopping once she got an idea into her head.

 

Kara opened up the cupboards, looking for something to eat. After finding nothing but plates, bowls, and cups, she came across one packed full of canned food. Searching around a little, she plucked out a can of beef stew.

 

“This should be good,” she said to herself.

 

Moments later, she had the can opened and poured into a pan on the stove. Her eyes fixed onto the stew as it cooked, Kara bringing up sip after sip of tea as it did. She felt herself gripped by the urge to help Ryder and the urge to flee from him, and she didn’t know which one to listen to.

 

“You know, they say a watched pot of stew never boils,” said Ryder.

 

And he’s a smart-ass, she thought, shaking her head.

 

“Just want to make sure it doesn’t get burned,” she said, watching tiny bubbles form on the surface of the brown, chunky broth.

 

As the soup cooked, Kara thought about the strange combination of feelings that Ryder stirred inside of her. Part of her wanted to mother him, to bring him back to health and make sure he was safe; another part of her wanted to wait until his back was turned and flee out of the cabin and take her chances with the elements. And another part of her still wanted to march over there and plant a kiss right on his lips. It was a bizarre combination of nurturing, fear, and raw sexual energy—it was like nothing else she’d ever felt before.

 

The soup soon heated to a boil, and Kara dumped it into a bowl she’d placed nearby.

 

“No crackers or bread or anything,” she said, waving her hand over the still-bubbling soup. “If it’s not frozen or in a can, it’s not here.”

 

“I’ll survive,” said Ryder. “Not even all that hungry.”

 

“I don’t care if you’re hungry,” said Kara. “You’re gonna eat something.”

 

I’ve got something I wouldn’t mind you eating, she thought to herself, her eyes going wide in surprise at this strange, intrusive thought.

 

“There you go with the mommy shit again,” said Ryder. “Just bring that over here and be done with it.”

 

Right then, her sexual thoughts shifted into imagining herself tossing the soup right onto Ryder and hitting him upside the head with the bowl. Her mind was such a blur of conflicting desires that she could barely focus on the task at hand.

 

“Here,” she said, taking a seat on the other end of the couch and dipping her wooden spoon into the broth. “Open up.”

 

Ryder’s eyes went wide with surprise as Kara brought the spoon closer and closer to his face.

 

“What the hell?”

 

With a flash of motion, he swatted the spoon out of Kara’s hand. It dropped onto the ground with a clatter, the soup splashing on the floor.

 

“Did you seriously just try to feed me?” asked Ryder. “I may be hurt, but I’m not a goddamn infant.”

 

“And did you just knock the spoon out of my hand?” asked Kara, grabbing the spoon from the ground and wiping it off. “Really nice of you.”

 

Ryder shook his head.

 

“Thanks for the grub, but don’t treat me like a damn invalid. I can feed myself.”

 

“Then be my guest,” said Kara, shoving the bowl and spoon towards Ryder.

 

He reached up to take the food but moved too fast. His face tightened into a rictus of pain as he reached up, and he let out a groan.

 

“Fuck … ” he moaned softly.

 

Just like I thought, thought Kara. Acting like a damn tough guy.

 

“I’m fine,” he said before Kara had a chance to speak.

 

He sat up slightly, blew on the soup, and began eating. Kara stepped away and picked up her tea, taking place by the window. As she stood, she kept one eye on the still-falling snow and the other on Ryder. Without drawing attention to herself, she watched as Ryder ate, watching how his muscles tensed and flexed as he supported the bowl, watching how he wiped his mouth with his forearm, watching how he ate intently and hungrily, like a man who’d just returned from a trek out in the wilderness. His toned body catching the orange flickering of the fire, he reminded Kara of a man from another time, like a caveman, or some kind of savage Viking warlord.

 

When he finished eating, Ryder set the bowl down and let out a grunt.

 

“That good?” Kara asked. “There’s lots more if you want me to make it.”

 

He held up a hand.

 

“What I want is for you to stop fussing over me.”

 

Kara nodded slowly, turning her attention back to the falling snow. But just as before, she kept one eye on Ryder, a hot, tight feeling building deep down within her as her gaze lingered on the hard angles of his perfect body.