Page 32 of Hook Up

“I told you years ago I’m not built for relationships.”

“And I told you that was bullshit.”

“Have you been in love?”

The elevator doors open before I can answer, but I’m glad for the interruption. Although the answer has always been the same, I’m not quite ready to speak those words aloud to Greer. Mainly because I doubt she’ll believe them, all things considered.

“My suite is this way,” she states, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. “I hope your chat with Mandi goes well and you two—”

“Stay broken up? That’s the only option.” I refuse to let any additional fears set up camp in Greer’s mind.

But it’s obvious by her stilted stance that she is nothing if not unsure—what to say, how to act, what to feel. “Have fun at the bachelor party. Take good care of my brother. I really appreciate you doing all this for Greg. It means the world to him.Youmean the world to him.”

Grasping her about the waist, I pull her close, desperate to know where her heart lies and if there’s still room in it for me. “What about you, Greer? What do I mean to you?”

I expect a sarcastic retort in the classic Greer Hammond style, but she surprises me by standing on her tiptoes and delivering a soft kiss to my mouth. “You’re the closest thing to love I’ve ever known, even if we’re destined for nothing to ever come of it.” Taking a step back, she shakes her head, a smirk playing about her mouth. “I’m far safer offering up my body and leaving my heart under wraps. What happens in Vegas, right?”

She’s halfway to her suite when I find the courage to speak my next line. “I want more than your body, Gigi. I’m aiming for your heart. This time, I’m not stopping until it’s mine.” My phone rings and even though I silence it, her expression shutters.

“You’d better get that. I’ll talk to you later, Ryder.”

“You don’t have to believe me. I’ll prove it to you.” Desperate to keep the conversation going, I aim for levity. “By the way, thanks for giving away the diamond bracelet I hid in the bouquet. I hope that woman enjoys it.”

Yes, I’m messing with her, but the energy is too heavy. We need to lighten the mood. Have some fun. Hell, haven’t we earned it?

Greer’s jaw slackens at my words. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

I struggle to maintain a stern expression, but the look of horror stamping across her features is too much. “I’m joking.”

“Thank God.”

As she buzzes herself into the room, I can’t resist one last zinger. “It was a necklace.”

This time, instead of a horrified expression, she flips me the bird with a smile before closing the door to her suite.

At least we’re moving in the right direction.

I know Greer is terrified—of my lifestyle, my storied sexual history, my celebrity status—but what she doesn’t understand is I’m still Ryder, and she’s one of the few people who can see that. One of the only people who wants to see me as I really am.

Besides, her admission opens the door for a future together. Now, I only have to convince her to fall in love with me, all while keeping my hands to myself.

Holy shit, I have my work cut out for me.

It’s been an hour. That’s about the only way to sum up the last sixty minutes. I spent the first twenty going round and round with Mandi, who heard from a friend of a friend of a friend—or something to that effect—that I was in Vegas with another woman.

After I verified I was indeed in Vegas with Greer, Mandi spent the next twenty minutes ranting and raving. Thankfully for my eardrums, I kept the phone at a safe distance.

I’ll give it to the media. When they latch onto a juicy tidbit, they’re faster than any F1 race car. The news of my Vegas weekend is already bicoastal, although they haven’t been able to identify the mystery brunette.

Only a matter of time.

The final twenty minutes were a mad dash of showering and throwing on fresh duds before heading to Greer’s room and sweeping her off her feet. I wasn’t able to snag front-row seats for a show, but I got us a table at the hottest French restaurant on the Strip.

Less than five minutes, and she’ll be back in my arms. Even that seems too long.

I swing open the door of my suite, stopping dead in my tracks at the harem of half-dressed women trailing behind Greg and the groomsmen.

What in the hell?

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