Strip Me Bare by Marissa Carmel Read Free Book Online Page B

that ’ s definitely one of the
issues we have to address.
    “He won’t. I’ll make sure of it. As long as I
keep my grades up and don’t do anything to mar his pretty image
he’ll leave me alone. I’ll be lucky if I see him on Christmas.”
    “Okay,” Emily sighs. “You know if you need
anything I’m here.”
    “I do.”
    “And I better goddamn see you on
Christmas.”
    I smile.
     
     
     

     
     
    I spent the whole
morning looking at apartments on the West Side, and I definitely
like this one the best. It’s a brownstone right near campus, all
trendy and Carrie Bradshawy. My father should approve; the perfect
place for the perfect judge’s perfect daughter.
    The realtor says the current tenant’s lease
is up in July and the place will be ready August 1st, which is
perfect since orientation at Columbia starts August 20th.
    I look down at my watch, a rose gold Michael
Kors. It’s 3:15 and I’m wiped. Who knew apartment hunting would be
so taxing? Ryan and I decided to meet at Bryant Park again and then
make a decision on what to do from there.
    I’m pacing the walkway waiting for him. The
birds are chirping and the waterfall is echoing over the crowd of
bustling people. Ryan is late. We’ve been texting nonstop the last
two days, but right now that doesn’t mean a thing if he doesn’t
show. I keep hearing the last words he said Sunday night.
    It will take an act of God to keep me
away.
    I keep pacing. This is agony.
    Suddenly a pair of arms wrap around me from
behind. “You need to chill out,” he says, his voice sultry.
    “Have any ideas how?” I say
mischievously.
    Ryan plants a soft kiss on my cheek, “I may
have something up my sleeve.”
    I turn around to face him. God he’s
beautiful. All toned and tanned and sharply defined. He makes me
feel weak, like he emits endorphins or something.
    “So what do you want to do?” Ryan asks,
grabbing my hand as we start to walk.
    “Actually I’m starving, I haven’t eaten all
day.” Come to think of it, I haven’t really eaten all week. The
butterflies have completely inhabited my stomach.
    “Is there a particular place you want to go?”
he asks.
    “I thought we could grab an early dinner
here, in the park.”
    It’s a perfect day for alfresco.
    We head over to the Bryant Park Grill, where
the rooftop is open for dining. After waiting a good half hour we
are finally seated. We get a table right next to the railing with a
sprawling view of the park’s gravel walkways, patio and extensive
lawn.
    I order a glass of Pinot grigio and the
steamed mussels in spicy thai coconut broth. Ryan orders a
tanqueray and tonic and the jumbo lump crab cakes. Our drinks are
dropped off and now it’s just him and me and all I can think about
is that kiss. The one by the stairwell of New Jersey Transit. And
how I want him to kiss me like that all over again. And again, and
again and again.
    “Alana?” I hear my name and look up from the
napkin I’m fiddling with. Ryan is staring at me, “What are thinking
about?”
    “How long have you been dancing?” I ask
curiously.
    His face falls, “About a year.”
    He had to know this conversation was
inevitable.
    “Why do you do it?”
    He shrugs, “Money, women, sex.”
    “I see,” I say disappointed; any indication
that Ryan and I are reconciling just got shot to shit.
    “Well, I just do it for the money now,” he
glares at me as if he’s laying stake on his claim. I haven’t agreed
to anything yet. If we do get back together it will be on my
terms.
    “How many?” I push.
    “How many what?” He tries to play dumb.
    “Women.” I clarify, “How many women have you
had?”
    Ryan looks absolutely dumbfounded, “Come on
Alana, do you really need to know?”
    “Yes, I really need to know.”
    Ryan breathes, his cheeks puffing out. “I
don’t know a few dozen or so.”
    My heart races.
    “All from the strip club?” I swallow a gulp
of wine.
    “Most, yes. But not all. You have to
understand,” he