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

what I had to say next caused my throat to feel clogged, so I cleared my throat before fully answering. “Yes. A friend of ours was the groom.”

“Isn’t that nice.”

Thankfully, the elevator stopped at the eleventh floor, which was where we’d be getting off. “Well, you know what they say,” Darius said as we stepped off. “Always a groomsman, never a groom.”

“If only that were true,” the man grumbled.

The woman swatted her palm at him, and I couldn’t help but be impressed with how little he flinched. Then right before the doors closed completely, I heard her say, “Oh, shit. We’re going up.”

“You just broke up a marriage for something no one even says,” I joked.

“I do. I basically live by that saying.”

“That doesn’t mean it actually is a saying.”

He ignored me and instead asked, “What’s the room number?”

“1144.”

“Allow me,” he said when we arrived, his body helping to frame the door as he leaned against it. “Def college chicks. I hear the music.”

A few seconds later, a tall brunette wearing a gold halter top with sequins answered the door.

“Woohoo! Well, damn,” she said, dragging out the second word into two syllables. “Come on in.”

I followed Darius into the hotel room until I heard a squeal that I recognized immediately.

“You hired strippers!” The voice had come from my left, almost behind me, but I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

Sophia. Shit, shit, shit.

“I might have to leave,” I whispered to Darius.

“What? Why? You can’t leave.”

“I know some of these girls.”

“Nice. They’re hot!” He’d already begun taking his jacket off and tossing it to the couch.

I felt like my stomach was going to come out through my mouth. I hated that some of my friends might find out I was a stripper, especially like this. I wondered if Aamee was here because I knew she was home and said she’d had some sorority thing to go to tonight.

“Stop being weird, dude. These girls want it.”

With a sigh, I began dancing too, trying my best to imagine I wasn’t where I was and doing what I was doing in front of who I was doing it in front of.

And there’s Aamee.

She looked absolutely thrilled after locking eyes with me for a moment, and then she immediately began texting. My guess was that it was Brody she was contacting. It was like one of those nightmares where you were in a crowded room and you recognized some of the people in it, and then you looked down and you were completely naked.

Though I wasn’t completely naked…yet. I tried my best not to look at Sophia or Aamee as I removed my white shirt, leaving just the bow tie around my neck and my tear-away pants. Darius was already grinding on the girl who’d opened the door for us, which I hoped didn’t mean I’d have to give Sophia a lap dance because that shit definitely wasn’t happening. I couldn’t think of anything worse.

Until my eyes locked with Taylor’s. I had no idea when she’d sat down at the kitchen counter. I hadn’t noticed her until now, but now that I had, I couldn’t stop looking at her.

“Don’t let my presence stop you.”

Her comment made me realize I’d completely stopped moving. Unfortunately, I wasn’t participating in some sort of freeze dance game. Apparently the game was more like some sort of fucked-up version of Jumanji I couldn’t figure out how to escape.

“No. Seriously. Don’t stop. I’m enjoying the show.” Her legs were crossed, and she gestured toward me with her hand. “Please. Continue.”

Was she serious? The other day she’d pulled away during a kiss that would be burned in my memory like it’d been done with a flamethrower. And now she was leaning on the counter of a hotel room during what looked like Sophia’s bachelorette party, telling me to continue stripping like it didn’t fucking bother her?

Her raised eyebrows told me that, yes, that was exactly what she was saying.

The next ten minutes or so were a blur, like I’d somehow been a victim of PTSD that was causing temporary amnesia. I had vague memories of some of the girls screaming, and of Darius giving Sophia a lap dance, but I didn’t dare look at Taylor again because nothing good could come from her knowing this was my job.

Or one of them.

How did someone reconcile a person who helped kids out and stripped on the side? I knew it made no sense, and no matter how I explained it, it wouldn’t make any sense to her either. Not to mention I’d kept it from her. Lied to her, technically.

So I gathered my clothes, thinking I’d put them on in the hallway because this hotel suite was an escape room I needed to get the hell out of. Against his pleading, I told Darius I was leaving and went toward the door as quickly as possible.

I barely made it to the elevator when I heard Taylor call my name.

I’d at least gotten my pants on, though they weren’t completely snapped on the side yet. My shirt was draped over my shoulder, and my back was still turned toward her as I pushed the button for the elevator.

Thankfully, the doors opened soon, and I climbed on as soon as the occupants exited.

“Wait. Ransom!” she called. “You’re just gonna leave like that?”

She hadn’t gotten on the elevator, but was waiting in the hall, staring at me as the doors began to close.

I maintained eye contact with her as long as I could until both of us looked too sad for me to continue. And as I let my head drop, the doors began to close. Don’t be a pussy. Against my instincts, I brought my hand out to catch the door. Taylor was right. I couldn’t just leave like this.

“I’m a stripper,” I forced out like a fucking moron.

“Yeah, I pretty much caught on to that part.” She stepped closer to me but didn’t enter the elevator, which I was thankful for