Page 18 of Hook Up

“Greg, I could kill you for this,” I grumble to my empty apartment.

It’s not that I don’t love my brother. In fact, I adore the man. But his destination wedding is costing me money I don’t have, and I seriously doubt I can work any more hours without falling flat on my face.

Isn’t being broke grand? I’ll be out of debt eventually… if I live that long.

So, despite this being Greg’s wedding weekend, I tried to finagle my way out of attending, claiming the clinic was busy and understaffed. Figures Greg knew someone in the unit to negate my claim.

Damn that man. He’s like the mayor of our small town.

If only Greg could rein in his drinking, he likelycouldrun for public office. He’s more than personable, although he abandoned any lofty career ambitions years ago when he had to give up racing. I still bear a grudge against my father for stripping away my brother’s happiness.

Have you ever seen the look on a child’s face when you tell them the only thing that matters to them is no longer an option? It’s the definition of heartbreak.

But my brother, despite losing his chance at the golden ring, continued to go to the kart track every other week to cheer on his best friend.

Ryder Gray.

It’s been eight years since I saw the man. More specifically, since we saw each other. I see him everywhere, and I meaneverywhere. He’s the hottest ticket in racing, with the trophies and trophy girlfriends to prove it. Each beauty is more striking than the last, and if I’m not mistaken, he’s even bedded Ms. Universe.

Not that I’m keeping tabs on the man. That’s something I won’t admit even to myself. I try to gloss over the many magazines or television appearances, assuming an air of indifference toward him.

Lord knows he’s indifferent toward me.

Ryder has the world on a string, but I know his smile, and the one he flashes for the cameras isn’t the one he flashed at me. This smile is practiced and fake as hell.

I hate it.

Hell, I should hate him—plying me with promises but then never bothering to phone after he swore those moments on the rooftop meant something.

SworeImeant something. I believed him, too.

Man must have one hell of a short-term memory problem because it’s been radio silence for eight years. No call, no text, nothing.

At least he isn’t attending Greg’s wedding. Yes, I asked. If Ryder was going to be there, I planned to make myself scarce. I have no desire to watch him make out with whatever beauty queen or supermodel is serving as his latest arm candy.

It’s pathetic, how well I remember his kisses all these years later. I’ve had good kisses since then. Plenty of them, but none ever came close to the fire that man ignited in my soul the moment his lips met mine. It’s as though he flipped a switch in my heart, only to stroll away and leave it to burn itself out.

Hopefully one day, it will.

My phone buzzes and I shake my head, biting back a chuckle. It’s Greg—again. He’s called almost every hour for the last day, ensuring I’m actually getting my ass on a plane.

We give each other crap constantly, but he’s my best friend in the world. When our world crashed around us, we clung to each other for support, since Dad was too busy with his mistress and Mom in no shape to help anyone.

Some things never change.

“You realize every time you call me, you’re interrupting my flow and delaying my packing? What do you want?”

“Are you sitting down, because I have the best news. Seriously.”

Damn, but he sounds giddy. “You won lotto and are moving the wedding to the Caribbean.”

“Why would I do that? Vegas is much cooler.”

Greg would be happy never being near the water again, after a scare with a manta ray when he was nine. Yep, a manta ray. Those large, peaceful creatures scared the hell out of Greg, and it would take a boatload of cash—literally—to get him back in the ocean. “What’s your news?”

“An invited but unexpected guest is making the wedding after all.”

My hand grips the phone as an unfamiliar feeling floods my body. We have a ton of mutual friends, but my money is on the fact one superstar racer is primed to make an appearance. “Don’t even tell me it’s Ryder Gray. If he’s in, I’m out.”

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