Maybe Someday (23 page)

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Authors: Colleen Hoover

BOOK: Maybe Someday
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Me: Hold on. I never said I wasn’t concocting an evil revenge scheme. ;) Also, while we’re being so blunt, can I ask you a question?
Ridge: What did I tell you about initiating a question with whether or not you can propose a question?
Me: Oh, my God, I can’t believe I ever kissed you. You’re so ANNOYING!
Ridge. LOL. What’s your question?
Me: I’m concerned. We obviously have an issue with the fact that we’re attracted to each other. How do we get past that? I want to write music with you, but I also know that the few moments we’ve had that wouldn’t make Maggie very happy have all been while we’re writing music. I think I’m just too desirable when I’m being creative, and I want to know what I need to do to lessen my attractiveness. If that’s even possible.
Ridge: Keep up the egotism. It’s very unattractive, and if it continues, I won’t even be able to look at you in a week’s time.
Me: Deal. But what do I do about my attraction to YOU? Tell me some personal flaws that I can engrave into my memory.

He laughs.

Ridge: I sleep so late on Sundays I don’t even brush my teeth until Monday.
Me: That’s a start. I need a few more.
Ridge: Let’s see. Once, when Warren and I were fifteen, I had a crush on a girl. Warren didn’t know I liked her, and he asked me if I would ask her out for him. I did, and she agreed, because apparently, she had a crush on Warren in return. I told him she said no.
Me: Ridge! That’s terrible!
Ridge: I know. I need a flaw from you now.
Me: When I was eight, we went to Coney Island. I wanted an ice cream, and my parents wouldn’t buy me one because I was wearing a new shirt that “June Cleaver” didn’t want me to get dirty. We were walking by a trash can, and there was a melted ice cream cone in it, so when my parents turned around, I picked it up and started eating it.
Ridge: Yeah, that’s pretty gross. But you were only eight, so it really doesn’t count. I need something more recent. High school? College?
Me: Oh! One time in high school, I spent the night at a girl’s house who I didn’t know very well. We made out. I wasn’t into it, and it was really gross, but I was seventeen and curious.
Ridge: No. That does NOT count as a flaw, Sydney. Jesus Christ, work with me here.
Me: I like the smell of puppy breath.
Ridge: Better. I can’t hear my own farts, so sometimes I’ll forget that other people can hear them.
Me: Oh, my God. Yes, this is the type of thing that definitely sheds a different light on you. I think I’ll be good for a while.
Ridge: One more from you, and then I think we’ll be equally repulsed.
Me: A few days ago, when I was getting off the campus bus, I noticed Tori’s car was gone. I used my extra key to let myself into her apartment, because I needed a few things I had forgotten. Before I left, I opened all her bottles of liquor and spit in them.
Ridge: For real?

I nod, because I’m too ashamed to type the word
yes.

He laughs.

Ridge: Okay. I think we’re good. Meet me here at eight tonight, and we’ll see if we can navigate through a song. If we need to take breaks from the music every now and then in order to replenish our repulsiveness with a few more flaws, just let me know.
Me: Deal.

I close my laptop and begin to slide off the bed, but he grabs my wrist. I turn around, and he’s looking at me with a serious expression. He leans over and grabs a pen, then picks up my hand and writes:
Thank you.

I press my lips together and nod. He releases my hand, and I walk back to my room, attempting to ignore the fact that all the repulsive details in the world couldn’t stop my heart from reacting to that simple gesture. I look down at my chest.

Hey, heart. Are you listening? You and I are officially at war.

Ridge

As soon as she’s out of my bedroom and the door shuts behind her, I close my eyes and exhale.

I’m thankful that she isn’t angry. I’m thankful that she isn’t vindictive. I’m thankful that she’s reasonable.

I’m also thankful that she appears to have more willpower than I do, because whenever I’m around her, I’ve never felt so weak.

13.

Sydney

Not much has changed in the way we practice together, other than the fact that we practice five feet apart from each other. We’ve completed a couple of songs since “the kiss,” and although the first night was a little awkward, we seem to have found our groove. We haven’t talked about the kiss, and we haven’t talked about Maggie, and we haven’t discussed why he plays on the floor and why I write alone on the bed. There’s no reason to discuss it, because we’re both very aware of all of it.

The fact that we’ve admitted our attraction to each other doesn’t seem to have eliminated it the way we’d hoped. For me, it’s like a huge elephant in the room. It feels as if it takes up so much space when I’m with him that it presses me against the wall, squeezing the last traces of breath out of me. I keep telling myself it’ll get better, but it’s been almost two weeks since the kiss, and it hasn’t gotten easier at all.

Luckily, I have two interviews next week, and if I get hired, at least it’ll get me out of the house more. Warren and Bridgette both work and go to school, so they’re not here a whole lot. Ridge works from home, so the fact that we’re both here alone the majority of the day is always at the front of my mind.

Out of all the hours in the day, though, the hour I hate the most is when Ridge is in the shower. Which means I really hate this hour, since that’s where he is right now. I hate where my thoughts go when I know he’s one wall away from me, completely unclothed.

Jesus, Sydney.

I hear the water turn off and the shower curtain slide open, and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying once again not to picture him. This would probably be a good time of day to turn on some music to drown out my thoughts.

As soon as the door closes between the bathroom and his bedroom, there’s a knock at the front door. I gladly jump off the bed and head toward the living room to get my mind off the fact that I know Ridge is in his room getting dressed right now.

I don’t even bother looking through the peephole, which is a very bad oversight on my part. I swing open the door to find Hunter standing sheepishly at the top of the stairs. He eyes me, his expression apologetic and nervous. My heart drops to my stomach at the mere sight of him. It’s been weeks since I last laid eyes on him. I was beginning to forget what he looked like.

His dark hair is longer since I last saw him, and it reminds me that I’m always the one to schedule his hair appointments. The fact that he hasn’t even bothered to make his own appointment makes him that much more pathetic to me.

“Should I give Tori the number for your barber? Your hair looks awful.”

The mention of Tori’s name makes him grimace. Or maybe it’s the fact that I’m not jumping back into his arms that’s causing that regretful expression on his face.

“You look good,” he says, capping his words off with a smile.

“I
am
good,” I say, not sure if I’m lying to him or not.

He runs a free hand over his jaw and turns away from me, appearing to regret the fact that he’s here.

How
is
he here? How does he even know where I live?

“How did you know where to find me?” I ask, tilting my head in curiosity.

I see the split-second shift of his eyes as they glance across the courtyard toward Tori’s apartment. It’s obvious he doesn’t want me to notice what’s going on in his mind, because it would only shed light on the fact that he’s still visiting Tori on a regular basis.

“Can we talk?” he asks, his voice void of the confidence I’ve always known him to have.

“If I let you in and convince you it’s over, will you promise to stop texting me?”

He barely nods his head, so I step aside, and he walks into the living room. I walk to the dining-room table and pull out a chair, making it obvious that he’s not making himself comfortable by sitting on the couch. He walks toward the table as his eyes work their way around the room, more than likely in search of information on who lives here with me.

He grips the back of the chair and pulls it out slowly while his eyes focus on a pair of Ridge’s shoes tucked beside the couch. I like that he noticed them.

“Are you living here now?” he asks, his voice tight and controlled.

“For now,” I say, my voice even more controlled. I’m proud of myself for keeping calm, because I’m not going to lie and say it doesn’t hurt to see him. I gave him two years of my life, and all the things I felt for him can’t just be cut off at once. Feelings take time to disappear, so they’re still here. They’re just mixed and swirled together with a hell of a lot of hatred now. It’s confusing to feel this way when I see him, because I never thought I could dislike the man in front of me. I never thought he would betray me the way he did.

“Do you think that’s safe? Just moving in with some strange guy you barely know?” He’s eyeing me disapprovingly as he takes his seat, as if he has the right to judge any part of my life.

“You and Tori didn’t leave me much choice, did you? I found myself screwed over and homeless on my birthday. If anything, I would think you should be congratulating me for handling it all so well. You sure as hell can’t sit here and judge me.”

He huffs, then leans forward over the table and closes his eyes, pressing the palms of his hands against his forehead. “Sydney, please. I didn’t come here to fight or make excuses. I came here to tell you how sorry I am.”

If there’s one thing I’d like to hear from him, it’s an apology. If there are
two
things I’d like to hear, it’s an apology followed by a good-bye.

“Well, you’re here now,” I say quietly. “Have at it. Tell me how sorry you are.” My voice isn’t confident anymore. In fact, I want to punch myself, because it sounds really sad and heartbroken, and that’s the last thing I want him to think I feel.

“I’m sorry, Sydney,” he says, spitting the words out fast and desperately. “I’m so, so sorry. I know it won’t make it better, but things have always been different between Tori and me. We’ve known each other for years, and I know it’s not an excuse, but our relationship was sexual before you even met us. But that’s all it was. It was just sex, and once you were in the picture, neither of us could figure out how to just put a stop to something that had been going on between us for years. I know this doesn’t make sense, but what I had with her was completely separate from what I had with you. I love you. If you’ll just give me one more chance to prove myself, I’ll never speak to Tori again.”

My heart is pounding as hard as it was the moment I found out they were sleeping together. I’m inhaling controlled breaths in an effort not to climb across the table and beat the shit out of him. I’m also clenching my fists in an effort not to climb across the table and kiss him. I would never take him back, but my head is so damned confused right now, because I miss what we had so much. It was simple and good, and my heart never ached the way it’s been aching these past few weeks.

What’s confusing me the most is the fact that my heart hasn’t been aching like this because I can’t be with Hunter. It’s aching because I can’t be with Ridge.

I realize as I’m sitting here that I’m more upset that Ridge came into my life than I am that Hunter left it. How screwed up is that?

Before I can respond, Ridge’s bedroom door opens, and he walks out. He’s in jeans and nothing else, and I tense from the way my body responds to his presence. However, I love the fact that Hunter is about to turn around and witness Ridge looking like this.

Ridge pauses just feet from the table when he sees Hunter sitting across from me. He glances from Hunter to me, just as Hunter turns to see who I’m looking at. I can see the concern wash over Ridge’s face, along with a flash of anger. He eyes me hard, and I know exactly what’s going through his head right now. He’s wondering what the hell Hunter is doing here, just as I am. I nod in reassurance, letting Ridge know I’m fine. I shift my eyes to his bedroom and silently tell him that Hunter and I need privacy.

Ridge doesn’t move. He doesn’t like that I just told him to go back to his bedroom. From the looks of it, he doesn’t really trust Hunter alone with me. Maybe it’s the fact that he wouldn’t be able to hear me if I needed him to return for any reason. Whatever it is, I just made him completely uncomfortable with my request. Regardless, he nods and turns back toward his room, but not before eyeing Hunter with a warning shot.

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