Page 83 of Hook Up

My mind reels, sure that Colton heard him wrong. “If that were the case, why was he with Mandi at the hotel the night before the race?”

A surprised huff escapes Colton. “Shit, I didn’t know he was, and he certainly never mentioned her being there to me. I remember seeing her at the hospital, though. Found it odd she was there, but I was too focused on everything else to speak to her. Trust me, I avoid speaking to that woman at all costs.”

“I take it you’re not a fan?”

“That’s one way to put it. I don’t know what happened with Mandi, although I suspect nothing. But I do know one thing. You two need to talk and clear the air, using full sentences. Grunting doesn’t count. I know you’re tough, Greer. Go show him who’s boss. Believe it or not, he’ll listen.”

I doubt that sentiment highly but agree to give it a shot. I’m not sure why Colton and Lorna are convinced Ryder loves me or will even consider listening to me at this point. They haven’t spent the last week living in a house where the tension pervades every square inch.

I have, and much more of this, I’ll be signing myself into the nuthouse. Hey, it would be a far more relaxing environment.

Still, I promised to pull out all the stops. My mission for the day? Get Ryder’s ass out of bed.

How hard can it be?

Balancing Ryder’s lunch tray in one arm and an ice bucket in the other, I climb the stairs, praying he’s in a decent mood. He needs to return to the world of the living, although I know he won’t go quietly. That would be far too easy.

With a sigh, I ready myself for the inevitable argument.

Please God, give me a break. Just a twenty-four-hour ceasefire.

Since I know God and his warped sense of humor lately, I’m not relying on prayers. I’ve got my armor on and sword drawn, ready for the inevitable verbal spar.

Come at me, Ryder.

I knock on his door before swinging it open. Ryder shakes his head in aggravation, tossing down the television remote. “Which part of leaving me alone don’t you understand?”

Oh well, so much for civility.

“You don’t really want me to go. Your bark is worse than your bite.” Thanks for that gem, Mrs. Gray.

“I’ve been telling you to leave for the last two weeks. You won’t listen.”

I plant my hands on my hips, certain that despite his lack of sight, he can feel the energy pervading from my petite frame. “Call the cops, then. Have me escorted off the property.”

Ryder groans, burying his face in the pillow. “Just go, Greer.”

“No can do. You need to rejoin the human race, and that starts with a shower and a change of clothes.”

“Go away,” he reiterates, his voice muffled into the pillow.

“If you don’t get out of this bed—”

“You’ll what?” he counters, a muscle jumping in his jaw.

“Make you regret your decision.”

“Doubtful.”

Can’t say I didn’t warn him. Setting down the food tray in a safe location, I hoist the ice bucket over his bed, dumping the entire thing onto his body.

Now I have his full attention.

Shocked curses fly from his mouth as he scrambles to escape the cold cubes. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

So glad you asked, Ryder.

“You don’t even want to know. There aresomany things wrong with me these past couple of weeks.”

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