Ryder narrows his eyes.
She flips her hair and touches his arm. “Don’t worry, you’re cuter. And taller.”
My attention suddenly focuses on a familiar face in one of the other booths. I gasp when recognition dawns.
“That’s Mac from Fling or Forever!” I exclaim. “And he’s not with Samantha! Oh my God, I need to text Diana. And my dad.” I grab my phone out of my purse.
ME:
Spoiler alert for Fling or Forever finale. Text unsubscribe if you don’t want to know.
DIANA:
Tell me!
DAD:
Subscribe.
ME:
Even if Mac and Samantha end up together in the finale next week, they sure as hell aren’t together now.
I punctuate that with the grainy photo I manage to snap of Mac with his tongue down some girl’s throat.
Eventually Alex drags me to the small dance floor. I feel bad abandoning Ryder, but he just waves us off. When I glance over at some point, he’s chatting with Vizza Billity. I wish I had my phone so I could commemorate the moment, but it’s in my purse, which is slung over Ryder’s muscular forearm.
I have successfully managed to turn Briar’s grumpy, bad-boy hockey cocaptain into a hold-my-purse boyfriend.
I’ve won the world.
We take a dancing break, and a waitress comes to take our order for another round. This time Alex requests champagne, and we toast and drink until she drags Ryder to dance while he pleads at me with his eyes to make it stop. But despite his pained look, there’s no way he’s not enjoying having her body rubbing all over him. This time I don’t feel jealous, though. Maybe because his heated gaze remains on me the entire time.
When he returns, he checks his phone and frowns before shoving it back in his pocket.
“Stop checking the time,” I chide.
It’s nearing midnight when a loud burst of noise echoes from the elevator and new arrivals stream in.
Alex glances over and laughs. “Your people are here.”
I grin. “Our people?”
“Hockey crowd.”
The group rolls in, ushered by the staff toward one of the roped-off booths, while half-naked bottle girls race over to serve the newcomers and stroke their egos.
Someone shouts, “Ryder!”
The next thing I know, Owen McKay strides toward us. He and Ryder are exactly the same height, so it’s sort of intimidating when they’re both standing there looming over us.
“Hey.” Owen throws his arms around Ryder in an enthusiastic hug. He pulls back, arching a brow when he notices my cousin. “Hi, aren’t you…？”
Alex bestows him her dazzling smile, and his eyes glaze over.
“Jesus Christ.” He looks back at Ryder. “This is the company you’re keeping now that you’re on the East Coast? Supermodels?” He groans out loud, appreciation heating his eyes as he glances from me to Alex.
Call me a superficial bitch, but I enjoy being included in the category of “supermodel.”
“What’s going on?” Ryder says gruffly. “Didn’t even know you were in town.”
“I didn’t know you were in town,” Owen counters. “What are you doing in Manhattan? You said you were spending the holidays with a friend in Boston.”
Ryder reaches for my hand. Tugs me toward him. “Yeah, this is the friend.” He pauses. “Girlfriend, actually.”
“Nice save,” I tell him.
Chuckling, Owen stares at our joined hands. “Jesus, Luke, there’s a lot you’ve been keeping from me. We have a girlfriend now?”
Ryder shrugs.
“I’m Gigi,” I say, extending my free hand. “It’s nice to meet you. And you already know Alex, apparently.”
“Owen,” he says.
He’s still scrutinizing me, as if my presence in Ryder’s life mystifies him. And when those blue eyes lock on my face, a strange feeling travels through me because I realize they’re the exact shade as Ryder’s. I don’t think I’ve ever been in the same vicinity as two guys with the same dark sapphire eyes.
The suspicion that tickles at my brain is confirmed when Owen lifts a brow and says, “How long have you been dating my brother?”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
RYDER
I want to be her hero
“OWEN MCKAY IS YOUR BROTHER.”
Gigi voices the curt, unhappy words when we drag our worn-out asses into the hotel room around three in the morning. We’re spending the night in her supermodel cousin’s suite. The penthouse, of course.
I’ve been waiting for her to say something, but I’m glad she managed to hold it together until now. After Owen dropped his bomb earlier, I could tell she still had a million questions. But there was no way we could make small talk, let alone engage in deep conversation, amidst the deafening music in a nightclub on New Year’s Eve. I was relieved when she didn’t push, but knew she was only biding her time. She spent the rest of the night shooting uneasy glances between Owen and me.
Well, not the whole night. We also spent a decent amount of time on the dance floor. I didn’t dance so much as let her grind all over me until the clock struck midnight, and then we made out on the dance floor surrounded by supermodels, professional athletes, and a rapper named Vizza.
Wild night.
Afterward, we piled into Alex’s private car, Owen included. He and Alex disappeared into her room, and for a girl who made fun of Gigi for being into hockey players, she sure is screaming one’s name right now.
I close the door, providing a barrier between the sexfest happening on the other end of the suite.
“All right. Let’s have it,” I say with a sigh.
“You lied to me,” she answers flatly.
“I didn’t lie.” I bite my lip, forcing myself not to avoid her increasingly angry eyes. “I told you I knew Owen from Phoenix—I just left out the part that he’s my brother.”
Gigi leans against the door, arms crossed tight to her chest. “You lied by omission.” She shakes her head in disapproval. “I just introduced you to my family, and you couldn’t be bothered to tell me you have a brother?”
My teeth dig deeper into my lip. I force myself to stop, licking away the sting and taking a breath.
“I didn’t intentionally keep it a secret,” I finally tell her. “The first time it came up that I knew Owen, I hadn’t told you about my dad yet, and I wasn’t ready for all that shit to come out. So I played it off like we were just friends from Phoenix. And then later, it sort of slipped my mind.”
“It slipped your mind,” she echoes in disbelief.
“Because it never even came up again. We never talk about Owen,” I point out.
“Yeah, and why is that?”
I sit on the edge of the mattress and run both hands through my hair. “Because I hate talking about my past. You know that.”
“You also said you’d make more of an effort.” She sounds frustrated.
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just…I’m not good at this.” I let out a breath, regret flickering through me. “He’s my half brother. We don’t share the same dad.”
Just the same dead mom.
I quickly swallow the lump in my throat.
As if sensing the pain building inside me, Gigi comes over and sits beside me, still clad in the shiny silver dress I couldn’t take my eyes off all night.