“Can we go somewhere more private to talk about this?” I finally said, my voice low and intentionally calm.
Without saying a word, Ransom stood and followed me from the Yard and to around the front of Rafferty’s. I sat down on the small brick wall that bordered the entrance, and Ransom took a seat next to me.
“I didn’t mean we were technically dating,” he said. “I know we never put any kind of label on…whatever this is, and that taking care of a kid and a bunch of dogs doesn’t actually count as a date.” He sighed heavily, and his shoulders slumped as he gripped the edge of the brick beside him, causing his usual confident posture to deflate like a day-old balloon. “I guess it’s only on my end, but I felt like we were more than…”
He seemed stuck for a word, so I supplied it for him. “Nothing?” I was quiet for a moment before I continued. “We were.”
When he looked up at me, his eyes seemed to ignite with a flame of hope I didn’t want to put out. “Were? As in we’re not anymore? Just tell me if there’s someone else. I’d rather know if you’re seeing someone—”
“I’m not,” I cut in abruptly. “Seeing anyone else.” Shaking my head, I lifted my phone from where I’d been holding it on my lap. “That was Brad.”
“What the fuck? I thought your dad handled it. This motherfucker’s got some real balls to keep harassing you after your father—”
“He didn’t do anything,” I blurted out quickly. “I told him not to.”
“You what?” Ransom’s tone was noticeably harsher now. “Why would you tell him that?”
“He was talking about me going back to school and finishing out the year on campus if Brad was out of the picture, and—”
“And you told him not to do anything to this fucking kid because you didn’t want to have to give your dad a reason not to go back? Jesus, Taylor, this isn’t some bullshit high school drama that has no bearing on real life. This guy might be dangerous. He’s obviously here. Or he was. And he’s planning to come back.”
“Thanks. But I don’t need your lecture,” I said dryly as I began to stand.
“It seems like you do,” Ransom shot back. “This isn’t about your ego and proving to your dad you can handle yourself and you’re an independent woman who doesn’t need his help. This is bigger than that.”
“No,” I said sternly. “It’s really not. That’s exactly what this is about. If Brad were going to do something, he would’ve done it already. He’s a coward. He’s sending these texts because he wants to fuck with me, and I’m not gonna let him. I can take care of myself.”
“Well, can we talk about how you lied, then? You told me your dad was going to handle the situation, and you had no intention of letting that happen.”
“I did that to protect you.”
“Protect me? I’m not the one who needs protecting. You are. And keeping me out of the loop does nothing to help either of us.”
“I’m sorry I lied. I am. But this conversation isn’t getting us anywhere, and I’m not in the right mindset to have it right now, so can we just table this for another day?” I started to get up.
“So we’re just gonna go back and hang out with everyone and act like everything’s fine?”
“No. You can do whatever you’d like. I’m gonna call an Uber and go home.”
“Not by yourself, you’re not. I’m coming with you.” It sounded like a directive, but I knew his request stemmed from fear, so I let it go. I had more on my mind than picking a fight over semantics.
“I’ll be fine.”
“You don’t know that.”
His concern radiated off him like some sort of aura he couldn’t leave behind even if he wanted to. And before I got trapped in that bubble of panic with him, I needed to get out of here.
“And you don’t know I won’t,” I said before walking away.
R A N S O M
I didn’t know what to do with myself after Taylor left. I knew I couldn’t follow her home, even though there was nothing I wanted to do more than make sure she was okay.
I’m sure she’s okay.
Then why did it feel like my limbs were amped up with adrenaline like an eight-year-old waiting for recess to start after too much sugar and a morning full of worksheets and sustained silent reading?
I couldn’t sit still, so there was no way I was going back to the group. I’d have to text Brody later since we’d all had plans to hang out late tonight after the guys got off work. Though I was sure Sophia would tell him Taylor was upset and left, so I went with her. There was no doubt she picked up on Taylor’s mood and the tension between us.
Fuck.
I sat back down on the wall where I’d just been with Taylor and tried to figure out what to do next. I wasn’t sure if that made me seem like a lunatic or a caring… I guessed boyfriend wouldn’t be the correct term, but I didn’t really have a better one right now.
A few more people came and went as I stared out into the dark parking lot. And in the reflection of the streetlight on the white Ford Raptor parked in front of me, I looked pathetic. If Taylor wanted to be with me, she would, and I had no right to suggest that the way she’d handled the situation with Brad had been wrong. It was her life and her decision. I was beginning to understand there was no right or wrong in any of this. Just feelings and more feelings that felt messy and confusing. And who was I to judge anything?
I’d spent enough time overthinking all of this for one night, so I stood and headed toward the steps to the Yard. Maybe I’d enjoy the rest of the night with my friends after all.
But before I got one foot on the wood, an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach stopped me. It took me a moment to realize that my body must have sensed it before my ears had heard it. Or my subconscious had somehow recognized what I could barely make out.
A faint voice in the distance, muffled but somehow still clear in the night air.
A scream. Then another.
Taylor.
And then I was running, faster than I knew my legs were capable of taking me. It was when the screams began to fade that the adrenaline carried me toward them. I didn’t want to lose them. I couldn’t.
Against my instincts, I stopped, waiting for a sound. Any sound.
And when one didn’t come, I spun around and around, my breaths coming out in heavy puffs of fear.
“Taylor!” I was frantic. Looking down driveways and into dim parking lots. “Taylor!”
As sick as those screams had made me, I prayed silently that I’d hear them again. They were my only link to where she was—where he was. I knew it was him before I turned the corner into the skinny alley between the organic food store and the nail salon Taylor and Sophia had gone to a few times.
Why the hell did she even walk this far? It had only been a couple of blocks, but she’d said she was going to call an Uber.
“Taylor!” I called once more, my voice echoing between the surrounding buildings until it died completely.
I heard a rustling at the end of the alley that I hoped wasn’t just some animal looking for dumpster scraps.
It wasn’t. But it was another kind of animal. The kind that held an innocent woman by the throat against the hard stone of a building while he covered her mouth with his hand.
“Fucking piece of shit!” I yelled as I grabbed him by his hair, yanking his head toward me before letting it go so my other fist connected with his face.
And like the pussy he was, Brad immediately let go of Taylor and brought his hand to his eye to comfort himself. He stumbled back a few feet when I followed with a quick jab to his stomach. He coughed—hacked, really—as I laid into him, but he didn’t go down without a fight.
He swung wildly at me, partly because he could barely see and also probably because he had never been in a real fight.
I let him get close to me only so I could grab his head and bring my knee to his face. Blood spewed from his nose, and I was sure some landed on my shirt.
Once Brad hit the ground and stayed there, I ran
over to Taylor.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?”
“No. No. I’m okay.”
I held her face between my hands and brought my thumbs to her cheeks to wipe the tears that had fallen. She was shaking, but otherwise didn’t seem injured. Thank God.
I glanced over at Brad, who was starting to stand, and this time, I walked toward him slowly. “How does it feel?” I asked him.
His lip turned up as he rubbed at his jaw. When he tried to laugh, it came out as a mouthful of blood.
“How does what feel?”
“Being powerless, helpless like you made Taylor feel for so long. You feel like a big fucking man now? Because from where I’m standing, you’re about a foot shorter than me, though that could just be because you’re still doubled over.”
“Listen—”
“No, you fucking listen! You’re gonna find your way out of this alley and this town, and I’m never gonna see or hear about you again. Taylor’s not gonna see or hear about you again. You disappear from her life, or I’ll make you disappear for good.”
Even in the dim light, I could see the rigidity in his jaw as I spoke. He wanted to say something back, but he knew better. I wondered if his eyes always looked this beady, or if it was because the flesh around them was already beginning to swell.
“I’m so sorry,” Taylor said, still sobbing. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve let you come with me.”
I turned enough that I could see her without taking my eyes off Brad. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay,” I said, pulling her into me. “We’re okay.”
I glanced over at Brad, who was still nursing his wounds and had all but given up. He spit a little blood in our direction, but he couldn’t even do that correctly.
“You know who’s not okay, though?” I said to Taylor. “Our boy Brad here could use some medical attention. Probably a good idea if you get yourself to a hospital. In another city, of course.”
“Fuck you!” He was sitting on an old crate with his back against the stone wall of the nail salon.
“No, Brad. It actually looks like this time you’re the one who’s fucked.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
T A Y L O R
I woke to Ransom’s hand running over my back gently, affectionately, but I could also recognize the cautiousness in 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. You’re an amazing group of people, and we’re lucky to have the honor of working with you.
To our Padded Roomers, we don’t even know where to begin to express how amazing you all are. You’re funny and crazy and supportive and crazy and fierce and crazy, and…have we mentioned crazy? You make this process all the more enjoyable because we get to share every success and setback with you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for us, such as posting teasers, sharing links, reading ARCs, writing reviews, and making us laugh. We don’t deserve you, but we’re damn glad to have you.
To our readers, there’s no way to accurately thank you for taking a chance on us and for your support. Thank you for letting us share our stories with you.
To Stephanie Lee, thank you for coming up with the name Ransom. It’s perfect for him.
To Google, thank you for providing the means for us to research things including, but not limited to, fraternities, sororities, marketing degrees, alcoholic drinks, dean responsibilities, business class topics, college codes of conduct, Gen Z lingo, and popular clothing trends.
To our sons for inspiring the last names of our main characters. Our lack of originality strikes again.
To Elizabeth’s daughter for being a spitfire and inspiring the way she writes female characters.
To our husbands, we know it’s not easy. Thanks for hanging in there. We honestly don’t deserve you.
To each other for pushing one another forward when we stall. The ride hasn’t been easy, but it’s sure as hell been a lot of fun. On to the next.
Continue Reading The Love Game Series With
Ready or Not (The Love Game Book 4) Page 23