Page 96 of Hook Up

His fingers tangle in my hair, those full lips drifting across mine. “Might be fun to play nurse and patient later. Just saying.”

With a smack on the chest, I watch Ryder dash into the other room.

His enthusiasm is contagious.

Ryder Gray is back.

It’s been a flurry of activity for the last few hours, with the doctor in as much of a celebratory mood as Ryder about the return of his eyesight. He wants Ryder to take it easy for a while, but joked he knew that wasn’t likely to happen.

The phone has been ringing off the hook, no doubt all manner of media eager for the latest scoop. His publicist, Francine, has been squirreled away in Ryder’s office for the last few hours as they plan a press release to quiet the masses.

Ryder Gray is a big damn deal.

I’ve holed myself away in the upstairs lounge, taking advantage of the sun warming my face and the relative quiet. I tried to be of assistance, but my complete lack of knowledge about racing and celebrity made me more of a hindrance.

When I realized I was in the way, I told Ryder I was headed upstairs, but he was so involved in an animated discussion with his sponsor that I doubt he heard me.

My phone buzzes, and a smile cuts across my features. “How excited are you, Greg?”

“Is it true?”

“The doctor says his eyes are as good as new.”

“It’s a damn miracle. How are you holding up, Gigi? Don’t lie, either. I always know when you’re lying.” That’s my baby brother for you. Somehow, he always sees through my calm facade.

“A bit overwhelmed. It’s just been Ryder and me for the last couple of months, but now, everyone wants a piece of him. I’m not sure where I fit into this life, or if I fit at all.”

“Stop that shit right now. It’s crazy, like before a race, filled with excitement and nerves and jitters. But it’s not permanent. The world is thrilled that Ryder Gray is back, but he’s still Ryder.”

I mumble my agreement, but I’m not so certain. The truth is that Ryder and I existed in our own world, away from the spotlight. Hell, I can count on one hand the number of people, excluding therapists, who dropped by to visit him during his injury. Now, the house is bursting at the seams with strangers flowing in and out the door.

Perhaps I’m being petty, but where were they when he needed them most? Hell,Icould have used their help when he wouldn’t budge from his bed.

“What’s your plan, Greg? Are you going to work with Colton?”

“My hope is I get to work with Ryder.”

My mouth goes dry at his blasé statement. “Ryder told me he had no plans to race again.”

A guffaw echoes through the phone. “I’m putting money on the fact that he’ll be in the next race, so long as he’s cleared. That’s who he is. That’s what he does.”

“Greg, he almost died.” Shaking my head, I refuse to let that idea set up shop. “I’m sure he’ll come back to F1 in some capacity, but not as a driver.”

“I’ll guess we’ll find out. In the interim, go give my brother-in-law a hug and spend some time with your man. Trust me, you’re still his number one priority. Talk soon.”

Taking a few extra moments to bathe in the sunlight, I suck in some steadying breaths before heading downstairs. Greg’s right. I’m being silly and jumping to conclusions—a nasty habit left over from my teenage years that never quite went away.

This is Ryder’s time to shine. He’s earned it.

Slipping downstairs, I knock softly on his office door. Ryder glances up, a smile crossing his face as he waves me over. “I wondered where you were. Come here. I’m sorry things are so crazy.” He wraps me in a hug, pulling me onto his lap.

“Understandable. How are you feeling?”

“Fucking perfect.” Grasping my chin, Ryder traces a finger along my lower lip. “I could stare at you all day.”

With a smirk, I let a bit of my sass out to play. “Take a picture. It lasts longer.”

A chuckle flies from his lips. “You’re still using that line.”

---