Page 5 of Hook Up

“I see that. You look good. You grew up right, Ryder.” I sound like a blooming idiot, complete with a stupid grin plastered on my face as I try to appear nonchalant.

“You look amazing, but you always did.”

“The last time you saw me, I was eighteen. I’ve changed quite a bit.”

His fingers glide through the ends of my hair, barely dusting my shoulders. It’s a recent change and one I’m none too fond of. Figures he’d point it out without saying a word. “Don’t ask. It was a moment of weakness.” I motion to my hair, swallowing some more of my drink. Did the bartender put any alcohol in the damn thing?

“You’re incredibly beautiful, Greer.” There’s something about the way Ryder compliments me. Even as a kid, he used to spout the most romantic and fanciful things.

I laughed them off then. They’re harder to laugh off now.

Clearing my throat, I back up, giving myself a bit of breathing room. What is my issue? I don’t get flustered around men. I always have the upper hand, likely because the last thing I’m looking for is a commitment. Do I want them to put a ring on it?

God, no. Just no.

It’s not that I don’t relish the idea of romance and happily ever after. Who doesn’t? But work is my focus. My only focus, considering the stack of student loans I have from my multiple degrees.

Get a higher education, they said. It’ll be worth it, they said.

I’d like to have a word with whomevertheyare.

“How are you?” I manage, my back to the bar.

There’s that dimple again, his smile showcasing even white teeth. “Living the high life.”

That’s an understatement. Ryder Gray is riding high on his talent and looks, and there isn’t an end in sight.

“So I’ve heard. Read, really.”

“You read about me?”

I could play coy, but I lack those flirtatious skills. “Of course. You’re a celebrity. I can say I knew you when. I can also say I remember when you fell off your bike, skinned your knee, and cried for about twenty minutes.”

Ryder laughs, running his hand through his dark locks. “Let’s not talk about that day. There are so many more memorable ones.”

“It was cute. You were cute. A very sensitive boy who loved fast cars.”

“I still love fast cars.” He leans in, determined to impede any space I put between us. “Want to go somewhere quieter? I can hardly hear you over all these people.”

Doesn’t that sound wonderful? Unfortunately, I didn’t come to this party stag—technically, at least. “I should check on my date.”

The smile falls from Ryder’s face as he carefully nods. “Is it serious?”

I sputter my drink, shaking my head. “Heavens, no. We aren’t dating. We were, but now it’s… complicated. That sounds like I’m still sleeping with him, which I’m not. Austin and I are friends… in a weird way.” With a sigh, I offer him a smile, desperate to shut myself up. “I’m not built for relationships.”

His brows raise as a look of surprise stamps across his face. “You’re every man’s dream, Greer, saying things like that.”

“So they say,” I reply with a shrug, a sick feeling settling over me at his observation.

Every man’s dream. That’s me, all right. The woman who’s a hell of a good time in the sack, a blast at any football game, and one who can hold a debate on basically anything.

I’m not the woman you open doors for or pick up the tab. I’m the tomboy type in a very feminine wrapping. The friend, sometimes with benefits.

I’ve heard so many men use Ryder’s exact words about my low-maintenance approach to dating, but hearing him utter that statement makes me feel like a bit of a loser.

“I think it’s bullshit, though.”

Now it’s my turn to be surprised, as Ryder’s voice cuts into my internal monologue. “What is?”

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