Chapter Twelve
Sydney
I don’t want to get out of bed. I don’t want to go
to class. I definitely don’t want to go job hunting
again. I don’t want to do anything but keep this
pillow pulled over my eyes, because it’s creating
a nice barrier between myself and every mirror in
this apartment.
I don’t want to look in the mirror, because I’m
scared I’ll see myself for who I really am this
time. A girl with no morals or respect for other
people’s relationships.
I can’t believe I kissed him last night.
I can’t believe he kissed me.
I can’t believe I broke into tears the second he
pulled away from me and I saw the look on his
face. I didn’t think it was possible to cram so
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much regret and sorrow into one expression. See-
ing how much he regretted being in that moment
with me was one of the biggest blows my heart
has ever taken. It hurt worse than what Hunter
did to me. It hurt worse than what Tori did to me.
But as much as it hurt seeing the regret on his
face, it was nothing compared to the guilt and
shame I felt when I thought of what I had done to
Maggie. What he had done to Maggie.
I knew the moment he put his hand on my
chest and moved closer to me that I should have
flown off the bed and made him leave the room.
But I didn’t. I couldn’t.
The closer he moved and the longer we stared
at each other, the more my body was consumed
by need. It wasn’t a basic need, like a need for
water when I’m thirsty or a need for food when
I’m hungry. It was an insatiable need for relief.
Relief from the want and desire that had been
pent up for so long.
I never realized how powerful desire could be.
It consumes every part of you, enhancing your
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senses by a million. When you’re in the moment,
it enhances your sense of sight, and all you can
do is focus on the person in front of you. It en-
hances your sense of smell, and suddenly, you’re
aware of the fact that his hair has just been
washed and his shirt is fresh out of the dryer. It
enhances your sense of touch and makes your
skin prickle and your fingertips tingle, and it
leaves you craving to be touched. It enhances your sense of taste, and your mouth becomes
hungry and wanting, and the only thing that can
satisfy it is the relief of another mouth in search
of the same.
But the sense my desire enhanced the most?
Hearing.
As soon as Ridge placed the headphones in my
ears and the music began to play, the hair on my
arms rose, chills erupted from my skin, and it felt
as if my heart rate slowly conformed to the beat
of the song.
As much as Ridge craved that sense, too, he
couldn’t experience it. In that moment, all of his
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other senses combined failed to make up for the
one sense he desired the most. He wanted to hear
me just as much as I wanted him to hear me.
What happened between us didn’t happen be-
cause we were weak. Ridge didn’t run his hand
up my jaw and around to the back of my head
simply because I was in front of him and he was
in the mood to make out. He didn’t press his
body against mine because he thinks I’m attract-
ive and knew it would feel good. He didn’t part
my lips with his because he enjoys kissing and
knew he wouldn’t get caught.
Despite how hard we tried to fight it, all of
those things happened between us because our
feelings for each other are becoming so much
stronger than our desire. Desire is easy to fight.
Especially when the only weapon desire pos-
sesses is attraction.
It’s not so easy when you’re trying to win a
war against the heart.
? ? ?
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The house has been quiet since I woke up more
than an hour ago. The more I lie here and allow
myself to think about what happened, the less I
want to face him. I know if we don’t get it over
with, the confrontation will only be harder the
longer we wait.
I reluctantly get dressed and head to the bath-
room to brush my teeth. His bedroom is quiet,
and he usually has late nights that result in late
mornings, so I decide to let him sleep. I’ll wait it
out in the living room. I hope Warren and Brid-
gette are either occupied with each other in a bed
somewhere or still asleep, because I don’t know
if I can take either of them this morning.
I open the door and walk into the living room.
I pause.
Turn around, Sydney. Turn around and go
back to your room.
Ridge is standing at the bar. However, it isn’t
the sight of Ridge that’s rendered me completely
immobile. It’s the girl he has his arms around.
It’s the girl he’s pressed against. It’s the girl he’s 330/692
looking directly at, as if she’s the only thing that
has, does, and will ever matter to him. It’s the
girl who planted herself between me and my
maybe someday.
Warren exits his bedroom and sees them stand-
ing together in the kitchen. “Hey, Maggie. I
thought you weren’t coming for a couple more
weeks.”
Maggie spins around at the sound of Warren’s
voice. Ridge’s eyes move from Maggie over to
me. His body tenses, and he stands up straighter,
putting a slight distance between the two of them.
I’m still immobile, or I’d be putting distance
between myself and all three of them.
“I’m about to leave,” Maggie says, and signs
simultaneously, facing Warren. Ridge steps away
from her, then quickly breaks his gaze from mine
and refocuses his attention on Maggie. “My
grandfather was admitted to the hospital yester-
day. I got here last night.” She turns and gives
Ridge a light peck on the lips, then heads for the
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front door. “It’s nothing serious, but I’m staying
with him until they release him tomorrow.”
“Oh, man. Sorry about that,” Warren says.
“But you’ll be here the weekend of my party,
right?”
Party?
Maggie nods and takes a step back toward
Ridge. She circles her arms around his neck, and
he wraps his arms around her waist—two simple
movements that completely shatter entire sec-
tions of my heart.
He rests his mouth against hers and closes his
eyes. He brings his hands to her face, then pulls
back and leans in again to kiss her on the tip of
her nose.
Ouch.
Maggie exits the apartment without ever hav-
ing noticed that I was standing here. Ridge closes
the door behind her, turns around, and brings his
eyes back to mine with an unreadable expression.
“What are we doing today?” Warren asks,
moving his head back and forth between Ridge
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and me. Neither of us breaks our stare to respond
to him. After several seconds, Ridge makes the
slightest movement with his eyes, motioning to-
ward his bedroom. He turns to Warren and signs
something, and I walk back to my room.
It’s amazing how many reminders I’ve had to
give my organs in the last three minutes that
should be basic, common knowledge.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Contract, expand.
Beat, beat, pause. Beat, beat, pause.
Inhale, exhale.
I walk to the bathroom and head for Ridge’s
bedroom. It was obvious he wants to talk, and I
still think confronting it now is better than wait-
ing. It’s definitely better than not confronting it at all.
The journey across the bathroom is only a few
feet and should take no longer than a few
seconds, but I somehow stretch it out for five
whole minutes. I place a nervous hand on his
doorknob, then open it and walk into his room.
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He’s walking in at the same time as I’m clos-
ing the door to the bathroom. We pause and stare
at each other. These staredowns are going to have
to end, because my heart can’t take much more.
We both walk to his bed, but I pause before
sitting down. I assume we’re about to do some
serious talking, so I hold up my finger and turn to
get my laptop out of my room.
He’s sitting on his bed with his laptop when I
return, so I sit, lean against the headboard, and
open mine. He hasn’t messaged me yet, so I type
something to him first.
Me: Are you okay?
I hit send, and after he reads my question, he
turns his face toward mine and appears slightly
puzzled. He turns back to his computer and be-
gins typing.
Ridge: In what sense?
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Me: All of them, I guess. I know it was
probably difficult seeing Maggie after what
happened between us, so I just wanted to
know if you were okay.
Ridge: I think I’m a little confused right
now. Are you not pissed at me?
Me: Should I be?
Ridge: Considering what happened last
night, I would say so.
Me: I have no more of a right to be mad
at you than you do to be mad at me. I’m
not saying I’m not upset, but how will be-
ing mad at you help us work through this?
He reads my message and expels a huge
breath, leaning his head back against the head-
board. He closes his eyes for a moment before
lifting his head and responding to me.
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Ridge: Maggie showed up last night an
hour after I got back to my room. I was
convinced you were going to barge in and
tell her what a jerk I am for kissing you.
Then, in the kitchen earlier, when I saw
you standing outside your door, I was
bracing myself.
Me: I would never tell her, Ridge.
Ridge: Thank you for that. So what now?
Me: I don’t know.
Ridge: Can we not do the thing where we
brush it under the rug and act like it never
happened, because I don’t think that’s go-
ing to work with us. I have a lot I need to
say, and I’m scared if I don’t say it right
now, I’ll never say it.
Me: I have a lot to say, too.
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Ridge: You first.
Me: No, you first.
Ridge: How about we go at the same
time? When we’re both finished typing,
we’ll hit send together.
Me: Deal.
I have no idea what he’s about to say to me,
but I don’t let it influence what I need to say to
him. I tell him exactly what I want him to know,
then I pause and wait for him to finish typing.
When he finally stops, we look at each other, and
he nods, and we both hit enter.
Me: I think what happened between us
happened for a lot of reasons. We’re obvi-
ously attracted to each other, we have a
lot in common, and under any other cir-
cumstance, I honestly believe we’d be
good for each other. I could see myself
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with you, Ridge. You’re smart, talented,
funny, compassionate, sincere, and a little
bit evil, which I like. ;) And last night—I
can’t even describe it. It is by far the most
I’ve ever felt while kissing someone. Al-
though the feelings aren’t all good.
There’s a lot of guilt mixed in there, too.
So as much as the thought of us being to-
gether makes sense, it also makes no
sense whatsoever. I can’t leave a relation-
ship with as much hurt as I did and expect
to find happiness within a few short
weeks. It’s too fast, and I still want to be
on
my
own,
no
matter
how
right
something might feel.
I don’t know where your head is, and hon-
estly, I’m scared to hit enter on this mes-
sage, because I want us to be on the
same page. I want us to work together to
try to push past whatever it is we’re feel-
ing so we can continue to make music and
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be friends and pull ridiculous pranks on
Warren. I’m not ready for that to end, but
if my being here is too hard or makes you
feel guilty when you’re with Maggie, I’ll
leave. Just say the word, and I’ll go. Well,
I guess you can’t really SAY the word. You
could TYPE the word, and I’ll go. (Sorry
for the lame joke at your expense, but
there’s just too much seriousness going
on right now.)
Ridge: First and foremost, I’m sorry. I’m
sorry I put you in that position. I’m sorry I
couldn’t be stronger in that moment. I’m
sorry I broke my promise to you about
never becoming a Hunter. But I’m mostly
sorry for leaving you crying on your bed
last night. Walking out and leaving that
whole situation unresolved was the worst
move I could have made.
I wanted to come back and talk to you,
but when I finally worked up the courage,
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Maggie showed up. If I knew she was
coming, I would have warned you. After
what I did to you last night and then see-
ing the look on your face when you saw
us together this morning, I knew it was
one of the most hurtful things I could
have done.
I have no idea what’s going through your
head, but I have to say this, Sydney. No
matter how I feel about you or how much
I think we could work, I will never, ever
leave her. I love her. I’ve loved her since
the moment I met her, and I’ll love her
until the moment I die.
But please don’t let that take away from
how I feel about you. I never thought it
was possible to have honest feelings for
more than one person, but you’ve con-
vinced me of how incredibly wrong I was.
I’m not going to lie to myself and say I
don’t care about you, and I’m definitely
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not going to lie to you. I just hope you
understand where I’m coming from and
that you will give us a chance to navigate
through this, because I believe we can. If
there are two people in this world capable
of figuring out how to be friends, it’s us.
We read through each other’s messages. I read
his more than once. I didn’t expect him to be so
forthcoming and honest, especially about the fact
that he cares about me. I never for one second ex-
pected him to contemplate leaving Maggie for
me. That would be the worst outcome of all of
this. If he left her and we attempted to build a re-
lationship from that, it would never work. The
entire relationship would be built on betrayal and
deceit, and those two things have never made and
will never make for a good foundation.
Ridge: Wow. I’m impressed with us. We’re
both so mature.
His comment makes me laugh.
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Me: Yes, we are.
Ridge: Sydney, I can’t tell you what your
message just did for me. Seriously. I feel
like the weight of all nine planets (be-
cause yes, Pluto will always be a planet to
me) has been crushing my chest since the
moment I walked away from you last
night. But knowing that you don’t hate me
and that you’re not mad and that you
aren’t concocting an evil revenge scheme
feels so damn good right now. Thank you
for that.
Me: Hold on. I never said I wasn’t con-
cocting 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?
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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 be-
ing 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 un-
attractive, and if it continues, I won’t even
be able to look at you in a week’s time.
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Me: Deal. But what do I do about my at-
traction 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.
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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 Cleav-
er” 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 in-
to 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.
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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 my-
self 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?
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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 repuls-
iveness 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, attempt-
ing to ignore the fact that all the repulsive details 347/692
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.