Page 8 of Hook Up

Staring out over the Manhattan skyline, I wonder what it must be like for this level of luxury to be your reality, instead of a cramped studio on Long Island. “This settles it. I need to become insanely wealthy, so I can buy my very own rooftop hangout.”

“Stick with me and I’ll buy you anything you want.”

“You’ll buy me a rooftop?”

“Among other things.”

What a flirt. The man certainly knows how to woo women. Giggling, I clink glasses with him, breathing in the night air. It feels good to laugh. Sometimes, I worry I’ve forgotten how.

“I missed your laugh, Gigi. I missed everything about you.”

His words settle over me like a warm blanket, even if I know he’s spouting a line. “It’s been twelve years. You remember nothing about me.”

Shaking his head, Ryder drapes an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close. “Want to bet? You love Elvis and David Bowie. Actually, you like all the music of the 60s and 70s. Pistachio is your favorite flavor of ice cream, even if I can’t for the life of me figure out why. You adore Practical Magic and made me watch it so many times, Istillhave passages memorized. You claim not to be built for relationships, but I know you dream of being in love.”

With every word, I fall deeper under his spell, enthralled by the idea he never forgot me. “You do remember me.”

“You’re unforgettable, Gigi.” He slides his fingers along the column of my throat, letting them drift down to my collarbone. “You still wear the same perfume.”

“I can’t believe you remember that.” With a laugh, I hold out my wrist for him to smell. “Honey and amber.”

But Ryder has other ideas as he leans in, sliding his nose along my neck. “You always smelled so good.”

My heart threatens to beat out of my chest when I feel the soft warmth of his tongue against my skin. His caress is tender. Seductive. And lighting up every cell in my body.

Pulling back, Ryder cups my face, resting his forehead against mine. “I told you I missed you.”

Tracing his lower lip, I hold his gaze, feeling more like a schoolgirl at thirty than I did at eighteen. “They don’t make men like you anymore, Ryder. You must have women clamoring for you.”

Ryder leans back with a sigh, a thin smile playing on his lips. “Promise me something.”

“What?”

“Stop throwing up walls, at least where I’m concerned. I’m not some random guy, and I’m certainly not going to hurt you. So,” he taps the end of my nose, “let’s avoid the topic of me and any other women. That’s the last thing I want to discuss.”

“Ever?”

“Where you’re concerned? Yes.”

He has a point. It’s not a road I care to traverse, either. “Deal. I don’t want to know, anyway. But, I do want to know everything else about you. We have a ton of years to catch up on.”

“Where do I start?” Ryder asks, running a hand through his dark waves. Damn, but it’s longer than mine now.

Propping my legs across his lap, I snuggle closer, warding off the winter chill. It’s also a perfect excuse to bask in Ryder’s warmth, and the man doesn’t seem to mind my advances. “The last time I saw you was twelve years ago. So, age ten until now.”

“Most of my life is not that interesting. I’ll bore you to death.”

“I beg to differ. You were a fixture in my family for years. I’m practically your unofficial big sister.”

Ryder’s eyes widen as he shakes his head vehemently. “Take that back. You are not my sister.”

“I said practically your sister.”

“Would I do this with my sister?”

I don’t have time to respond before Ryder claims my mouth, his tongue gliding along the seam of my lips. With a soft moan, I grant him access, feeling every cell in my body spark as he pulls me onto his lap, his hands sliding along my spine.

The man’s mouth is magical, my pulse racing as the kiss deepens, his tongue sliding against mine in the most seductive of battles. I feel his hunger bubbling beneath the surface as he kisses me, his mouth making promises I pray he keeps.

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