Page 2 of Hook Up

“Why not?” Greg stares at the racing magazine, his hands forming the imaginary parts in the air. “The more air the engine gets, the faster it moves. You know that.”

“It’s a torque issue.”

A look of understanding passes over my friend’s face, and he begins scribbling furiously in his notebook. Greg loves racing as much as I do, but his passion isn’t the wind whipping past your face as you take the inside corner. It’s the idea of building a car to generate that feeling.

We’re a perfect team.

“What are you two doing?”

I shoot a smile in Mrs. Hammond’s direction. She’s an older version of her daughter, and she’s been super nice to me this entire summer, even that one time when the nightmares got a bit too real.

That night, she and Greer sat me on the couch, one on either side of me, as we watched Mortal Kombat, per my request. I was so embarrassed Greer saw me cry, but she was totally cool with it. She never brought it up once, not even to Greg.

See? Told you she was perfect.

“Stuff, Mom,” Greg grumbles. That’s his standard greeting where his mother is concerned.

I don’t get it.

“Greg, Ryder, I’m going out for a bit. Greer is in charge.”

“I hate when Greer watches us.” Greg may not like the idea of his big sister being the boss, but I’m thrilled.

Jabbing him in the arm, I shoot him a reassuring smile. “She’s not that bad. It’ll be cool.”

“That’s because you love her and want to marry her. Yuck.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Mrs. Hammond retorts, shooting Greg a dark-eyed gaze. I know that look. She’s had enough of his lip, and unless he wants to spend the evening in his room, he’d better quit. “But, I’m afraid Greer is too old for you, honey.”

I’ve heard this argument before. It never deters me. “Maybe now, but it won’t always be that way.”

She chuckles, shaking her head. “You are such a precocious child. An old soul, Ryder Gray.”

Another one using that term to describe me. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re not a pain in the ass like my brother.”

A grin splits my face as Greer enters the conversation. “I’m way cooler than him.”

She laughs, and it’s as beautiful a sound as an engine purring. Maybe more so. “Isn’t everyone?”

Greg lobs a pool noodle at Greer, but she sidesteps it easily. “Can everyone be quiet? I’m working.”

Greer rolls her eyes at her brother before meeting my gaze, nodding toward the house. “Want some dinner?”

“Sure. I’ll help you cook.”

“I want dinner. I’m hungry.”NowGreg is all too eager to enter the conversation.

“I thought you wanted peace and quiet, Greg.”

“Nah. Dinner sounds way better.”

Greer plants a hand on her hip, sending him a glare. “You’re not two. You’re ten. Make yourself some mac and cheese.”

“Come on. Can’t you do it?”

Greer shakes her head, her lips pursed in a thin line. But she’s not mad. She’s trying to hold back the laughter. Despite appearances, she adores her little brother. Sometimes, I think she even adores me. “What are you going to do when I’m gone?”

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