Page 99 of Hook Up

“You don’t have any. Trust me, after twenty years, I’d know.” His phone buzzes, and he shoots me a rueful glance. “It’s Colton. Do you mind if I take this?”

Shaking my head, I wave him off. Look, I get it. Ryder Gray is the biggest name in racing and as I told him the other night, the entire world wants a piece of him. I just pray there’s enough left over for me and the baby.

Sucking in a breath, I wonder if I should broach the topic of my pregnancy tonight. I’ve waffled on it all day, uncertain how much more I should pile onto his plate.

All things considered, perhaps I need to let it lie for a few more days.

Ryder strolls back to the table, an exuberant smile on his face. “Great news.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m cleared for the next race.”

With those words, the bottom of my world drops out. “What?” It’s all I can manage and to be honest, even that is an effort.

“The doctor cleared me to race next week. He wasn’t thrilled, but he understands I need to get back out there. I’ll be back on the circuit and you are going to see the world by my side, Gigi.”

I slump against my chair, releasing a slow exhalation as I try not to lose my appetizer. “You’re really going back to racing?”

“Of course. It’s what I do, Gigi. It’s who I am. You’ll finally get to see me in action.”

“I saw you damn near die, Ryder.” My hands shake as I wrap them around my water glass. “I know you don’t see it, but you’re so much more than racing. The doctor said another accident could kill you. How can you take that chance?”

Ryder leans across the table, grasping my hands. “Do you know how many races I’ve been in over the course of my life? Hundreds. I’ve only ever been hurt in one. Granted, the timing sucked, considering we were just married, but how lucky am I? I had this gorgeous nurse taking care of me. You wouldn’t let me quit then. I can’t quit now.”

My head pounds at his admission, so expected and yet still a surprise. “What if there’s another accident?”

“I can’t predict the future.”

“Racing a piece of carbon fiber around a track at two-hundred miles per hour doesn’t help your odds any.”

Ryder leans back in his chair, his mouth turning down in a frown. “You knew what I did for a living. Racing affords us this lifestyle.”

His cold temperament unleashes my anger but I maintain a low tone. We don’t need to give the tabloids any fodder for an expose. Ryder is big enough news already. “I don’t give a shit about this lifestyle. I’m talking about you and me. About you taking unnecessary risks. About you not surviving the next crash. I’m scared, Ryder.”

He’s next to me in a flash, pulling me close as he tries to soothe my fears. “It’s always you and me, Gigi. I know this has been a rough ride, but let me show you how much fun we’re going to have.” Tipping my chin up, he steals a kiss. “Give me a smile, beautiful. Please.”

Blotting my tears with a napkin, I offer a tremulous smile, but inside, my heart is shattered. He’s right. He’s an F1 racer, and I knew that going in. What kind of woman would I be, asking him to change his life for me? The fact that I changed my life and plans for him is irrelevant. I did it willingly.

My mistake was expecting him to do the same. Expecting that the statements he made while blind would hold up once his vision was restored. But the real Ryder Gray is back, eager to reclaim his place in the history books. That another accident would almost certainly be fatal is secondary to his need to win.

I’m secondary to his need to win.

“Hey, I said I would show you the world. It’s about time I made good on that promise. It’s a bit crazy on the circuit, but we’ll have time for the best restaurants, the fanciest hotels. You’ll love it.”

Kissing away my tears, Ryder scoots his chair against mine, but I feel the acres of space between us. Space that will continue to grow with each passing day.

I force myself to eat, even though the consommé tastes like prime rib and the prime rib tastes like cheesecake. It’s all a gray blur, but he’s spent a small fortune, and I refuse to appear ungrateful.

Plus, we’re out together, which hasn’t happened since our marriage. Save for the doctor visits, which I’m happy to never revisit. At least he isn’t out with Mandi again.

Stop it, Greer. Deep breath. Relax.

He promised he did nothing with Mandi or with any of those women, and I’m trying hard to believe him. It looks bad, but that’s what the media does. They’re shit stirrers. They love making things look more dramatic than they are.

I’m a rational woman and I won’t buy into their crap. Instead, I’ll rely on Ryder’s words and actions.

“Did you enjoy the food?” Ryder asks, pressing a kiss to my palm.

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