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

it. His touch was light, almost like he was worried he might break me.

“Did you sleep here last night?” I didn’t remember falling asleep and was surprised I’d slept so well, especially in someone else’s bed.

“Where else would I have been? It’s my apartment.”

“No. I mean, did you sleep in bed with me?”

“I did,” he answered, his voice low and raspy from the morning. “Would you rather I hadn’t?”

I shook my head. “I’m glad you did. You make me feel safe.” I rolled over so I was facing him, and I couldn’t help but trace my thumb along the scratch that spanned from his temple to the middle of his cheek. “Is this the only place you’re hurt?”

“Mm-mm,” he whispered. “I hurt everywhere last night. Seeing what he did to you… How he grabbed you.”

Ransom looked so sad, like the memory of it alone might make him cry, and I couldn’t be the reason for that.

“None of this is your fault. And as much as I want to blame myself for it because I should’ve just listened to you, I know there’s only one person to blame for what happened, and I don’t think he stuck around. Not after knowing you’re in the picture now.”

A smile crept slowly up Ransom’s lips, and I smiled too, knowing I’d put it there.

“Is that what I am? ‘In the picture now’?”

“Only if you wanna be in it,” I teased. Our faces were closer now, but I didn’t notice how they got there or who moved first. One second there was a comfortable space between us, and then suddenly we were right there—against each other, wondering when the distance disappeared. “I mean, you are pretty photogenic, so in my opinion, pictures always look better with you in them.”

I kissed him first, an innocent but slow meeting of our mouths that barely allowed our lips to separate.

“Just to be clear, the picture thing’s a metaphor, right?”

“Totally.”

I went to kiss him again, but he hesitated. “So we’re dating, then?”

“Yes, Ransom,” I said, rolling my eyes at him playfully.

“I think I’m gonna need to hear it,” he teased. “Just to be sure.”

“Stop talking.” I put a finger to his lips.

“I’m gonna need to,” he said, my finger muffling his voice as he spoke.

“We’re dating,” I said, removing my finger from his lips so I could put my mouth against them again.

When we pressed our lips together again, it was Ransom who deepened the kiss and began undressing us both until we were two warm bodies against each other—exposed, vulnerable, but no longer uncertain of what we had together.

We were done talking. From now on, we’d just feel. And my God, did that man give me something to feel.

We allowed ourselves to get lost in each other for a little while before getting up and continuing the morning with breakfast—pancakes and bacon that Ransom cooked—and coffee on the balcony.

“I miss this apartment building,” I said, bringing my feet onto the chair so I could pull my legs close. Even with the colder weather, it was still so relaxing to sit outside and look at the scenery. The only scenery my current place had was shit no one wanted to see.

“You know,” Ransom said, “you can stay over sometimes if you want.”

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you for your luxury apartment.” I said it as a joke, but part of me was serious. Plus, one night would become two, and then three, and before either of us realized it, we’d practically be living together.

“I could pretend you’re using me for sex if it would make you feel more noble.”

“Shut up,” I said, laughing. “I like what we’re doing.”

Ransom reached to put his hand over mine. His palm was warm from his coffee mug. “I like it too.”

I put my coffee down when my phone dinged with a text I knew was probably from Sophia. She’d texted last night to make sure I’d gotten home okay, and though I’d replied with a yeah, I hadn’t said anything else. She was probably texting to get the details on my argument with Ransom.

When I lifted my phone, I saw she’d sent a link to a local article.

Only a few blocks from Rafferty’s!!!

Crazy, right? Promise me you’ll never

walk home alone again. Xoxo

Clicking into the article, I tried to read every word at once, but it felt more like trying to make sense of a shaken Scrabble board.

Victim… Beaten… Unidentified…

Each word triggered a flashback I’d hoped never to replay. But it wasn’t until I read more of the article that my heart really began to race, and I could feel the moment the adrenaline released and spread rapidly through my body.

And Ransom must have sensed something was off too because I had no doubt my face was a sickly white.

“What is it?” he asked.

My eyes remained glued to the phone for a few more seconds, and even though it was open, my mouth seemed unable to form any words. Finally, after Ransom called my name twice, I forced myself to look up at him.

“What is it?” he said again.

“It’s… Brad,” I choked out.

“You’re fucking kidding me! He texted you again?”

“No.” I shook my head at him. And I wondered how long it would take his anger to turn to fear when I spoke again. “He’s dead.”

Acknowledgments

First and foremost, we have to thank Meredith Wild for allowing us to achieve our dream of writing a rom-com series. This has been a cathartic experience for us, and we’ll always be grateful to you for this opportunity.

To our swolemate, Scott, these books wouldn’t be what they are without you. Thanks for giving us room to push boundaries while reeling us in when it’s necessary.

To Robyn, thank you for managing our writing lives—haha. We’re honestly not sure how we made it this far without you.

To the rest of the Waterhouse Press team, you simply kick ass. Thank you for everything you do to help us be as successful as we can.