Ready or Not (The Love Game Book 4) by Elizabeth Hayley (i wanna iguana read aloud txt) 📗

Once I managed to get their check squared away and cleared off one of the other tables, I headed back to Sophia’s table. Despite the three appetizers they’d blown through, they were probably starving. They’d been seated around seven thirty, and it was already almost nine.

“Sorry,” I said, pulling out my pen and notepad. “I’m guessing you guys are ready to order some real food now since you had like an hour to look over the menu.”

“No worries,” Toby said. “It gave me more time to explain how macro- and micronutrients affect our energy expenditure.”

“Ohhh,” I said, sympathetically. “Then I’m extra sorry it took me so long to get back here.”

It seemed to take Toby a few seconds to realize what my comment meant. “Hey!” he said, but then left it at that.

Noticing that the table was one short, I asked, “Should I wait for Ransom to get back, or does one of you know what he wants?”

“Oh,” Brody said. “He actually had to get going. But he said to let you know he’s sorry he couldn’t stay longer. He didn’t wanna bother to say bye while you were working.”

“It’s fine.” I mean, it was fine. I didn’t need Ransom here or anything. I barely knew the guy. But what I did know of him made me curious about why he was always disappearing, and usually at night. I’d already asked him about it and hadn’t gotten a real answer. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was moonlighting as some kind of superhero. Which was the reason I had to ask, “Where’d he go?” I tried to act casual, like I cared less than I did.

“He was meeting some friends or something at another bar,” Sophia said.

Who was he meeting? I’d never seen any of Ransom’s friends, other than all of us, and since he’d just moved here fairly recently, I didn’t think he had many in the area. Except that he was, or used to be, an athlete, and I was pretty sure that circle could be extensive no matter where someone lived. The guy probably had connections all over the county. “Were they old friends from college or something or…”

Or some other thing that was none of my business?

“I don’t think he said who,” Carter answered right as Brody said, “I think it was a party or something. He sounded like it was pretty important.”

Aniyah glanced between the two of them. “I thought he said it wasn’t a party.”

“Uh,” Brody stammered. “I think he said it wasn’t a surprise party.”

“Aniyah’s right,” Toby chimed in. “He didn’t say it was a party.”

The group debated Ransom’s whereabouts for a little longer, and I wondered why Brody was so insistent that he’d gone to a party when everyone else seemed so sure he hadn’t.

Had Ransom told Brody the truth and Brody forgot he was supposed to keep it to himself? Was Ransom in some guy’s basement snorting coke off a dirty parquet coffee table while nineteen-year-old college freshmen twerked in the background?

I didn’t think so, but I also only knew the Ransom that Brody brought around. I had no idea what he did in his personal life or who he hung around with.

And I was torn between whether I wanted to know or not.

Chapter Seven

R A N S O M

“When you shoot, try to put your fingers up in the air a little more and flick the ball up higher. Just be careful. You’re right-handed, so the ball’ll drop off to the right if your wrist’s not straight.” Manny tossed the ball up into the air from behind the three-point line toward the right of the net and turned toward me. “See, I don’t even need to watch it to know it went in.” The ball dropped into the net with a satisfying swish, and he smiled when he heard it.

A lot of people might feel a little inadequate getting shooting lessons from a fourteen-year-old whose voice hadn’t quite deepened completely yet, but I was just happy Manny got to show off his skills, not to mention I got to learn a few things about a sport I’d never been great at despite my height. I had over a foot on this kid, but he could dribble circles around me. Literally.

“Dude, you gonna play on a team this year, or what?” I asked him.

Most of what he’d learned had been in the local neighborhood courts from his older brothers and other guys. And now that he was entering high school, I knew how important it was for him to play an organized version of the sport if he planned to get any type of scholarship. I wished he could’ve played for a summer league, but his mom didn’t have the time or the money for all the travel that was needed.

“I guess,” Manny said, tossing the ball hard toward me. “Try the shot again.”

I jumped up, letting the ball slide off my fingertips. It sailed toward the basket but didn’t quite make it in. Though it was closer than my previous shot.

“Almost,” he said. He grabbed the rebound and threw it at me again. “Another. Remember not to let your hand drift over.”

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one mentoring you?” This time the ball went through the net with that beautiful sound I’d heard on Manny’s shot.

“Yeah, but you’re doing a shitty job of it.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Watch your mouth.”

“Yeah, yeah. Again,” he said, tossing me the ball.

I hit the shot with an ease I hadn’t felt since, well, probably ever. “Once you learn the fundamentals, you can help coach a kids’ team, I bet. That’ll look great on a college application.”

“Why you always gotta be talkin’ about college like it’s the only way to do anything with my life? You startin’ to sound like my mom.”

Manny shuffled around me as I tried and failed to steal the ball from him.

“Your mom’s a smart woman,” I told him.

“Yeah, I