Page 82 of Hook Up

“What in the world happened?” I ask the question aloud, although I don’t expect an answer, since Ryder hasn’t spoken directly to me in the last several days.

“I’ll tell you what happened. Colton and the team are headed for Europe. Continuing the circuit without me. My life is over.”

Willing my breath and mind to settle, I attempt to think of something—anything—that won’t further agitate him. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, Greer? Using me? Lying to me? Being here? So many choices, aren’t there?”

So much for not agitating him. With a huff, I walk over to the pile of shattered glass. Best to focus on my task and stay out of his way. Glancing over my shoulder, I see his sightless gaze locked in my direction; the anger wafting off him.

My finger rips across a shard, and I drop it with a yelp. “Ouch. Shit.”

“What happened?”

“I cut myself,” I mumble as I assess the damage. Thankfully, it won’t need stitches, but the sucker sure is bleeding. “Don’t move from the bed, please. There’s still broken glass but I need to bandage my finger.”

“Gigi?” For the first time since he kicked me out of his life, he uses my nickname, and his voice is softer, lacking the harsh edge.

“Yes?”

“I wasn’t thinking when I threw the glass. Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Nothing a bandage won’t fix. I’ll be back in a minute.”

A small smile crosses my face as I descend the stairs and head for the first aid kit tucked into the main floor bathroom. It’s hardly a declaration of romance, but I’ll take it.

Then my gaze falls on the pregnancy test, tossed aside in my haste, and my breath catches, the cut on my finger long forgotten.

Grabbing up the test, I stare at the results in disbelief.

I’m not stressed.

I’m pregnant.

Chapter 14

Greer

I’m keeping my wits about me.

To be fair, I’m falling apart on the inside, but externally, everything appears dandy.

I returned to Ryder’s room last night with his dinner tray before cleaning up the remaining glass, but I never uttered a word about my recent discovery.

Why would I? Ryder can’t stand me, so there’s no chance in hell he’ll be anything but furious that I’m pregnant.

Colton called again this morning, the concern clear in his voice when he learned Ryder refused yet another therapy session. “Go be his wife, Greer. He doesn’t want to listen? Make him. Force his hand. He needs you, despite what he claims, but he’s stubborn and scared.”

“He needs a lot of things, but I’m damn sure I’m not one of them.”

“Ryder is in love with you.”

A scoff flies from my lips at his words. “Trust me, he’s not.”

“Trustme, he is.”

“What makes you think that?” Better question, do I want to know?

“Ryder and I met for a drink. I’d heard through the grapevine he’d gotten married, so of course, I had to bust his balls a bit. But it didn’t matter, because the man was so excited to show you off to the world. He said he’d loved you since he was a kid.”

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