Page 31 of Hook Up

Rubbing my hand over my brow, I flip through the pile—and I meanpile—of messages from Mandi, ranging from apologetic to apoplectic. Apparently, news of my exploits in Vegas has made its way to her door. “Insistent is an understatement.”

“She also wanted me to mention that she’s at home in Charlotte and isn’t leaving until she gets some answers.” He shrugs, a rueful expression coloring his features. “Should I hold all calls from her, sir?”

What I want is to superglue her mouth shut, but since that isn’t a viable option, I know I’ll have to speak with her. Fucking wonderful. “Mandi and I need to talk, even if it’s the last thing I want to do right now.”

My statement, although true, should have remained in my head for two reasons. One is that discretion is of utmost importance in the world of celebrity and I don’t know the concierge from Adam. The second and more important reason? Greer heard every word of our brief exchange, and judging by the dismay on her face, she’s none too pleased.

Talk about damage control. Releasing a slow exhale, I offer Greer a shrug and hope for the best. “I’m sorry.” What else can I say at this point? Despite my every attempt to not make it look like a booty call, this latest turn of events is not helping matters. “I’m not even sure how she knew where I was.”

“The world knows every move you make, Ryder Gray.” Her gaze shifts to the ground as she chews her lower lip. “She’sstillliving with you? This keeps getting better and better. What’s next? She’ll show up for the wedding?”

“She’s still at the house, but only because she hasn’t found a place, or so that’s her claim. I’m dealing with it.”

Wrong answer, Ryder.

Houston, we have a major incident—a head-on collision, and the brake lines are cut. Greer shakes her head, her gaze flitting from the enormous bouquet in her arms to my face. “Take your flowers, Ryder.”

“They’re your flowers.”

The head shaking is more insistent now, her lips pursed. “I don’t want any part of this situation.” She holds out the bouquet, but I make no move to take them. After standing at an impasse for several seconds, she darts across the floor, gifting them to a woman in a wheelchair.

Then, without a second glance, she turns on her heel and heads for the elevator.

I have two choices: let her walk away or chase her down. I let her walk away once. There’s no way in hell I’m letting that happen a second time.

My long legs have no issue overtaking her, and I grip her arm, forcing her to slow. “Easy, Gigi. Can we talk about this without you running away?”

“Running away is the safest option at this point.” She motions between the two of us, and it’s then I catch the glassiness in her gaze. “What are we doing? We need to stop, or we’ll wind up doing something we regret. I’ve known you your entire life. I don’t want to taint that memory.”

“I will never regret spending time with you. But I’m ready to leave those memories in the past and start making new ones together.”

“You’re living with another woman,” Greer argues, punching the elevator button.

“Only technically. Hell, I put her on a plane two days ago. I don’t know why she’s back in Charlotte, but I swear, Mandi and I are done.”

“That appears to be a one-sided sentiment. Come on,” she mutters, her eyes focused on the floor numbers above the bank of elevators. “Go and speak with her, Ryder. It’s obvious she isn’t taking silence for an answer.”

“What about us?”

Greer pivots, her eyes large and luminous. “There is no us. There never has been. Any time we came even remotely close, your girlfriend suddenly appears, shooting the notion all to hell, and making me feel like a hussy in the process.” She runs her hand over her brow, the tension clear in her face. “I knew this was a terrible idea. I shouldn’t have come.”

No way will I let her throw up more emotional walls. She has miles of them already that I have to break through. When the elevator doors open, I mouth a silent prayer that it’s empty, before crowding Gigi against the back wall, caging her in with my forearms. “Do you know whyIwasn’t going to come?”

“Greg said you were too busy.”

“Not even close. Yes, I’m busy, but never too busy for my friends, and trust me, I don’t have that many of them. Not real ones, anyway.” Inching closer, I nuzzle my nose along her jawline, basking in her magical scent. “I waited four months for you to call, using every excuse I could think of as to why you didn’t—it was too hard to reach me overseas, you were embarrassed to call, time zones—everyexcuse. Finally, I worked up the courage to ask Greg. I knew I’d have to tell him everything, but I didn’t care. A chance with you was more important. That’s when he told me about you and the doctor. It was serious. He figured you would get married. I’d heard enough at that point and from then on, I didn’t ask about you.”

Greer fingers the St. Christopher medallion around my neck, but she won’t meet my gaze. “I wanted you to call me. I started dating Richard when I realized you wouldn’t.”

“Did he make you happy?” I’m not sure why I need this information, but I finally have the courage to inquire about the details.

“It was fun for a while, but med school usurped most of his time. I worked constantly to foot the bills, convincing myself it would all be worth it in the end.”

“Did you love him?”

She hesitates, chewing her lip—my favorite of her nervous gestures. “I’m not sure I know what love is, Ryder.”

Her words settle over me, and I see the pain reflected in her eyes. She means what she says. “You’ve never been in love?”

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