Ready or Not (The Love Game Book 4) Elizabeth Hayley (cheapest way to read ebooks .txt) 📖

think on it. See you guys tomorrow. Have a great night.”

“You too,” I said.

“Yeah, get the hell out of here at a decent hour tonight,” Ransom added. “Tell the fam I said hi.”

“Will do.”

We made our way out of Safe Haven and out of the center.

“Where are you parked?” Ransom asked.

“Oh, I walked.”

Ransom stopped dead in his tracks. “You what?”

“I walked,” I said more slowly. “It’s only a few miles. I got a good parking spot outside my apartment, and I didn’t want to move my car.”

“It’s getting dark.”

I rolled my eyes. Not this again. “Well, I wasn’t expecting to be here almost an hour late, Dad. It would’ve been fine if we’d gotten done on time.”

“I’ll take you home,” he said matter-of-factly as he began walking toward his truck.

“No thanks. I’ll walk.” I turned away and headed down the sidewalk.

Screw stupid boys and especially screw this stupid boy and his overprotectiveness that was actually superhot even though it was irritating too. And screw me for thinking the word screw in relation to Ransom because it made my whole body warm. Well, warmer because it was actually still kind of hot out even though the sun was going down. Global warming could suck it.

A hand closed around my bicep, and even though I knew who it was, I still whirled around like a maniac.

“Don’t touch me,” I gritted out.

Ransom held his hands up. “Shit, sorry.”

I took a calming breath. “Go home, Ransom.”

But when I began walking again, he fell into step beside me.

“No can do. Not until I know you’re safe.”

I turned my head to glare at him, only to see him smiling widely.

“See! Look how good I’m getting at following directions,” he said. “You didn’t want me following you without you knowing, so now I’m being upfront about it. Very mature of me, if I do say so myself. You’re a good influence on me.”

“I somehow doubt that.”

“So you think you’re a bad influence?”

I stopped and sighed loudly. “Why are you this way?”

He thought for a long moment, the delay actually making me begin to anticipate his answer. So when he said, “I don’t know,” I was annoyed with myself for expecting something serious. But I was also a little amused too.

“You want to smile,” he said as he pointed at my face.

“I do not,” I argued as I began walking again.

“You do. You totally do. I have effectively annoyed you into happiness.”

“Oh my God, do you ever stop?”

He hesitated again, this time going so far as to tap his index finger on his chin.

But I wasn’t falling for it again. “That was rhetorical.”

“But what if I have an answer?”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Well, that’s not very nice.”

“Guess I’m not very nice.”

“I think you’re nice.”

He was making me exasperated. “You just said I wasn’t nice.”

“No, I don’t think I did.”

“Ransom,” I warned.

“Taylor,” he repeated.

I breathed deeply. “What will make you go away?”

“Letting me buy you dinner and then giving you a ride home.”

“I already told you no about dinner.”

“Your words said no, but your growling stomach said ask again.”

This guy was going to drive me insane. “I’m still a no on dinner.”

“But a yes to a ride?”

“Jesus, fine, yes, I’ll accept a ride.”

“Sweet,” he said simply before changing directions and walking us to his truck. It was black, with an extended cab and four doors. It looked to be a few years old, but it was well-maintained. He went to open the passenger door, but the blaring of his phone stopped him before he could open it. He pulled his phone out of his jean’s pocket and looked at the display.

The look that crossed his face was a far cry from the goofy guy he usually was. He stared at the phone as it continued to ring.

“You wanna get that?” I asked him.

He glanced up at me. “Not really.” Refocusing on the display again, he added. “I probably should, though. One sec.” He took a breath and then answered. “Hello?” He turned so his back was to me, and there was little else for me to do but stare at his back through his tight T-shirt, letting me see the high set of his shoulder and the way his muscles seemed to be bunched together.

Whoever was on the other end, Ransom didn’t seem to want to speak to them.

“Yeah, it’s me. Fine. Yeah. That’s good.” He listened to whoever was on the line for a minute or so before turning a bit so he was leaning against the back door. He was looking at the ground as I studied his profile: all square lines and smooth skin.

“No, I don’t… I don’t think I’m ready to see you. We have a lot to work through before that happens. If it happens.”

The person on the other end began speaking again, and I wondered who he was speaking to. I’d made a lot of assumptions about Ransom since I’d met him, and while I wasn’t convinced some of them were unfounded—hello, black eye—I also didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Mostly because the rigid set to his body and the words he was saying instantly made me think it was an ex-girlfriend, and that thought made me decidedly irritated. Not that I had any right to feel that way, but since when were emotions logical?

“Yeah, you can call again. I just— Never mind. I’ll talk to you soon. Okay.” He hung up without saying goodbye and pushed his phone back into his pocket. He looked over at me and flashed me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry about that.”

“No worries. You okay?”

He bit his bottom lip as he considered my question. “Honestly. I’m not sure.”

Don’t ask who it was. Don’t ask who it was. “Who was it?” Fuck it all to hell. “Sorry, that was rude,” I rushed to add. “It’s not my business.” Please make it my business. “You don’t have to tell me.” For the love of God, tell me already.

Though, maybe I didn’t want to know.