Maybe Someday

Chapter Seven

Sydney

Ridge puts down his guitar for the first time in

more than an hour. We haven’t texted at all, be-

cause we’ve been on a roll. It’s pretty cool how

well we seem to work together. He plays a song

over and over while I lie across his bed with a

notebook in front of me. I write down the lyrics

as they come to me, most of the time crumpling

up the paper, chucking it across the room, and

starting over. But I’ve finished lyrics for almost

an entire song tonight, and he’s only crossed out

two lines he didn’t like. I’d say that’s progress.

There’s something about these moments when

we’re writing music that I absolutely love. All

my worries and thoughts about everything wrong

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in my life seem to go away for the short times we

write together. It’s nice.

Ridge: Let’s do the whole song now. Sit

up so I can watch you sing it. I want to

make sure we have it perfect before I

send it to Brennan.

He starts playing the song, so I begin singing.

He’s watching me closely, and the way his eyes

seem to read my every movement makes me un-

easy. Maybe it’s because he can’t express words

through speaking, but everything else about him

seems to make up for that.

As easy as he is to read, it’s only that way

when he wants to be read. Most of the time, he’s able to hold back his expressions, and I don’t

know what the hell he’s thinking. He holds the

crown in the nonverbal department. I’m pretty

sure that with the looks he gives, if he could

speak, he’d never even have to.

I feel uncomfortable watching him watch me

sing, so I close my eyes and try to recall the

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lyrics as he continues to play the song. It’s awk-

ward singing them with him only a few feet

away. When I wrote the lyrics the first time, he

was playing his guitar but was a good two hun-

dred yards away on his balcony. Still, though, as

much as I tried to pretend I was writing them

about Hunter at the time, I knew I was imagining

Ridge singing them all along.

A LITTLE BIT MORE

Why don’t you let me

Take you away

We can live like you wanted

From place to place

I’ll be your home

We can make our own

’Cause together makes it pretty hard to be

alone

We can have everything we ever wanted

And just a little bit more

Just a little bit more

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His guitar stops, so naturally, I stop. I open my eyes, and he’s watching me with one of his expressionless expressions.

I take that back. This expression isn’t expres-

sionless at all. He’s thinking. I can tell by the

squint in his eyes that he’s coming up with an

idea.

He glances away in order to pick up his phone.

Ridge: Do you mind if I try something?

Me: As long as you promise never again

to propose a question by asking if I mind

if you can try something.

Ridge: Nice try, but that made no sense.

I laugh, then look up at him. I nod softly,

scared of what he’s about to “try.” He sits up on

his knees and leans forward, placing both hands

on my shoulders. I attempt to hold in my gasp,

but it’s a failed attempt. I don’t know what he’s

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doing or why he’s getting so close to me, but

holy crap.

Holy crap.

Why is my heart spazzing out right now?

He pushes me until I’m flat on his mattress. He

reaches behind him and picks up his guitar, then

lays it on the other side of me. He lies down next

to me.

Calm down, heart. Please. Ridge has super-

sonic senses, and he’ll feel you beating through

the vibrations of the mattress.

Ridge scoots closer to me and by the way he’s

hesitating, it makes me think he’s unsure if I’ll

allow him any closer.

I will. I absolutely will.

He’s staring at me now, contemplating his next

move. I can tell he’s not about to make a pass at

me. Whatever he’s about to do is making him

way more apprehensive than if he were just plan-

ning to kiss me. He’s eyeing my neck and chest

as if he’s searching for a particular part of me.

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His eyes stop on my abdomen, pause, then fall

back to his phone.

Oh, Lord. What is he about to do? Put his

hands on me? Does he want to feel me sing this

song? Feeling requires touching, and touching re-

quires hands. His hands. Feeling me.

Ridge: Do you trust me?

Me: I don’t trust anyone anymore. My

trust has been completely depleted this

week.

Ridge: Can you replenish your trust for

about five minutes? I want to feel your

voice.

I inhale, then look at him—lying next to

me—and I nod. He sets down his phone without

breaking my gaze. He’s watching me as if he’s

warning me to stay calm, but it’s having the exact

opposite effect. I’m sort of panicked right now.

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He scoots closer and slides his arm under the

back of my neck.

Oh.

Now he’s even closer.

Now his face is hovering over mine. He

reaches across my body and pulls the guitar flush

against my side, bringing it closer to us. He’s still eyeing me with a look that seems intended to

produce a calming effect.

It doesn’t. It doesn’t calm me down at all.

He lowers his head to my chest, then presses

his cheek against my shirt.

Oh, this is great. Now he definitely feels how

spastic my heart is beating right now. I close my

eyes and want to die of embarrassment, but I

don’t have time for that, because he begins

strumming the strings of the guitar next to me. I

realize he’s playing with both hands, one from

underneath my head and one over me. His head is

against my chest, and I can feel his hair brush my

neck. He’s pretty much sprawled across me in or-

der to reach his guitar with both arms.

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Oh, my dear sweet baby Jesus in a wicker

basket.

How does he expect me to sing?

I try to calm down by regulating my breathing,

but it’s hard when we’re positioned like this. As

usual when I miss an intro, he seamlessly starts

the song over again from the beginning. When he

reaches the point where I come in, I begin

singing. Sort of. It’s really quiet, because I’m still waiting for air to find its way back into my lungs.

After the first few lines, I find a steadiness to

my voice. I close my eyes and do my best to ima-

gine I’m simply sitting up on his bed right now

the way I have been for the last hour.

I’ll bring my suitcase

You bring that old map

We can live by the book

Or we can never go back

Feeling the breeze

Never felt so right

We’ll watch the stars

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Until they fade into light

We can have everything we ever wanted

And just a little bit more

Just a little bit more

He finishes the last chord but doesn’t move. His

hands remain stilled on his guitar. His ear re-

mains firmly pressed against my chest. My

breaths are heavier now that I’ve just sung an en-

tire song, and his head rises with each intake of

air.

He sighs a deep sigh, then lifts his head and

rolls onto his back without making eye contact

with me. We lie in silence for a few minutes. I’m

not sure why he’s being so unresponsive, but I’m

too nervous to make any sudden movements. His

arm is still underneath me, and he’s making no

effort to remove it, so I’m not even sure if he’s

finished with this little experiment yet.

I’m also not sure I’d even be able to move.

Sydney, Sydney, Sydney. What are you doing?

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I absolutely, positively, do not want to be having this reaction right now. It’s been a week since

I broke up with Hunter. The very last thing I

want—or even need—is to develop a crush on

this guy.

However, I’m thinking that may have

happened before this week.

Crap.

I tilt my head and look at him. He’s watching

me, but I can’t tell what his face is trying to con-

vey. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s thinking, Oh, hey, Sydney. Our mouths sure are close together.

Let’s do them a favor and close this gap.

His eyes drop to my mouth, and I’m incredibly

impressed with my telepathic abilities. His full

lips are slightly parted as he quietly takes in sev-

eral slow, deep breaths.

I can actually hear him breathing, which sur-

prises me, because that’s another of his sounds

that he keeps complete and total control over. I

like that he can’t seem to control it right now. As

much as I claim to want to be unattached from

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guys and independent and strong, the only thing

I’m thinking is how much I wish he would take

complete and total control over me. I want him to

dominate this situation by rolling on top of me

and forcing that incredible mouth onto mine, ren-

dering me completely dependent on him for

breath.

My phone receives a text, interrupting my

clearly overactive imagination. Ridge closes his

eyes and turns to face the opposite direction. I

sigh, knowing he didn’t even hear the text, so

turning away was of his own accord. Which

means I’m feeling pretty awkward right now for

just having that rich internal dialogue sweep

through my mind. I reach behind my head and

feel around until I find my phone.

Hunter: Are you ready to talk yet?

I roll my eyes. Way to ruin the moment,

Hunter. I was hoping that after days of avoiding his texts and phone calls, he would finally get a

clue. I shake my head and text him back.

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Me: Your behavior is bordering on harass-

ment. Stop contacting me. We’re done.

Ridge

Stop with the guilt trip, Ridge. You didn’t do anything wrong. You aren’t doing anything wrong.

Your heart is beating like this simply because

you’ve never felt anyone sing before. It was overwhelming. You had a normal reaction to an over-

whelming event. That’s all.

My eyes are still closed, and my arm is still

underneath her. I should move it, but I’m still try-

ing to recover.

And I really want to hear another song.

This might be making her uncomfortable, but I

have to get her to push through her discomfort,

because I can’t think of any other situation where

I’ll be able to do this.

Me: Can I play another one?

She’s holding her phone, texting someone

who’s not me. I wonder if she’s texting Hunter,

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but I don’t peek at her phone, as much as I want

to.

Sydney: Okay. The first one didn’t do any-

thing for you?

I laugh. I think it did a little too much, in more

ways than I’d like to admit. I’m almost positive it

was also obvious to her by the end of the song,

with the way I was pressed against her. But feel-

ing her voice and what it was doing to all the oth-

er parts of me was way more important than what

she was doing to me.

Me: I’ve never “listened” to anyone like

that before. It was incredible. I don’t even

know how to describe it. I mean, you

were here, and you were the one singing,

so I guess you don’t really need me to de-

scribe it. But I don’t know. I wish you

could have felt that.

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Sydney: You’re welcome, I guess. I’m not

really doing anything profound here.

Me: I’ve always wanted to feel someone

sing one of my songs, but it would be a

little awkward doing this with one of the

guys in the band. Know what I mean?

She laughs, then nods.

Me: I’ll play the one we practiced last

night, and then I want to play this last

one again. Are you okay? If you’re tired of

singing, just tell me.

Sydney: I’m good.

She lays down her phone, and I reposition my-

self against her chest. My entire body is battling

itself. My left brain is telling me this is somehow

wrong, my right brain is wanting to hear her sing

again, my stomach is nowhere to be found, and

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my heart is punching itself in the face with one

arm and hugging itself with the other.

I might never have this opportunity again, so I

wrap my arm over her and begin playing. I close

my eyes and search for the beat of her heart,

which has slowed down some since the first

song. The vibration of her voice meets my cheek,

and I swear my heart flinches. She feels the way I

imagined a voice would feel during a song but

multiplied by a thousand. I focus on how her

voice blends with the vibration of the guitar, and

I’m in complete awe.

I want to feel the range of her voice, but it’s

hard without using my hands to feel it. I pull my

hand away from the guitar and stop playing. Just

like that, she stops singing. I shake my head no

and motion a circle in the air with my finger,

wanting her to keep singing even though I’m no

longer playing the chords.

Her voice picks back up, and I keep my ear

pressed firmly to her chest while I lay my palm

flat against her stomach. Her muscles clench

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beneath my hand, but she doesn’t stop singing. I

can feel her voice everywhere. I can feel it in my

head, in my chest, against my hand.

I relax against her and listen to the sound of a

voice for the very first time.

? ? ?

I wrap my arm around Maggie’s waist and pull
her in closer. I can feel her struggling beneath

me, so I pull her even tighter. I’m not ready for

her to go home yet. Her hand smacks my fore-

head, and she’s lifting me off her chest as she at-

tempts to wiggle out from beneath me.

I roll onto my back to let her off the bed, but

instead, she’s slapping my cheeks. I open my

eyes and look up to see Sydney hovering over

me. Her mouth is moving, but my vision is too

fogged over to see what she’s trying to say. Not

to mention that the strobe light isn’t helping.

Wait. I don’t have a strobe light.

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I sit straight up on the bed. Sydney hands me

my phone and begins to text me, but my phone is

dead. Did we fall asleep?

The lights. The lights are going on and off.

I grab Sydney’s phone out of her hand and

check the time: 8:15 A.M. I also read the text she

just tried to send me.

Sydney: Someone’s at your bedroom

door.

Warren wouldn’t be up this early on a Friday.

It’s his day off.

Friday.

Maggie.

SHIT!

I hurriedly jump off the bed and grab Sydney’s

wrists, then swing her to her feet. She looks

shocked that I’m panicking, but she needs to get

the hell back to her room. I open the bathroom

door and motion for her to take that route. She

walks into the bathroom, then turns and heads

back into my bedroom. I grab her by the

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shoulders and force her back into the bathroom.

She slaps my hands away and points into my

bedroom.

“I want my phone!” she says, pointing toward

my bed. I retrieve her phone, but before I hand it

to her, I type a text on it.

Me: I’m sorry, but I think that’s Maggie.

You can’t be in here, or she’ll get the

wrong idea.

I hand her the phone, and she reads the text,

then looks back up at me. “Who’s Maggie?”

Who’s Maggie? How the hell can she not

remember . . .

Oh.

Is it possible I’ve never mentioned Maggie to

her before?

I grab her phone again.

Me: My girlfriend.

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She looks at the text, and her jaw tightens. She

slowly brings her eyes back to mine, and she

snatches the phone out of my hand, grabs the

doorknob, and steps back into the bathroom. The

door closes in my face.

So was not expecting that reaction.

But I don’t have time to respond, because my

light is still flickering. I head straight to the bedroom door and unlock it, then open it.

Warren is standing in the doorway with his

arm pressed against the frame. There’s no sign of

Maggie.

My panic instantly subsides as I walk back-

ward and fall onto my bed. That could have been

ugly. I glance up at Warren, because he’s obvi-

ously here for something.

“Why aren’t you answering my texts?” he

signs from the doorway.

“My phone died.” I reach over to my phone

and place it on the charging base on the

nightstand.

“But you never let your phone die.”

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“First time for everything,” I sign.

He nods his head, but it’s an annoying, suspi-

cious, You’re hiding something kind of nod.

Or maybe I’m just being paranoid.

“You’re hiding something,” he signs.

Or maybe I’m not being paranoid.

“And I just checked Sydney’s room.” He

arches a suspicious brow. “She wasn’t in there.”

I glance to the bathroom, then look back at

Warren, wondering if I should even lie about it.

All we did was fall asleep. “I know. She was in

here.”

He holds his stern expression. “All night?”

I nod casually. “We were working on lyrics. I

guess we fell asleep.”

He’s acting strange. If I didn’t know him bet-

ter, I’d think he was jealous. Wait. I do know him better. He is jealous.

“Does this bother you, Warren?”

He shrugs and signs back. “Yeah. A little.”

“Why? You spend almost every night in Brid-

gette’s bed.”

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He shakes his head. “It’s not that.”

“What is it, then?”

He breaks his gaze, and I can see the discom-

fort cross his face before he exhales. He makes

the sign that indicates Maggie’s name. He brings

his eyes back to mine. “You can’t do this, Ridge.

You made this choice for yourself years ago, and

I tried to tell you then what I thought about it.

But you’re in it now, and if I have to be the an-

noying friend to remind you of that, so be it.”

I wince, because it kind of pisses me off how

he’s referring to my and Maggie’s relationship.

“Don’t refer to my relationship with Maggie as

being ‘in it’ ever again.”

His expression grows apologetic. “You know

what I mean, Ridge.”

I stand and walk toward him. “How long have

we been best friends?”

He shrugs. “That’s all I am to you? A best

friend? Ridge, I thought we were so much more

than that.” He smirks as if he’s trying to be

funny, but I don’t laugh. When he sees how

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much his remarks have bothered me, his expres-

sion quickly sobers. “Ten years.”

“Ten. Ten years. You know me better than

that, Warren.”

He nods, but his face is still full of doubt.

“Good-bye,” I sign. “Shut the door on your

way out.” I turn and walk back to my bed, and

when I face the door again, he’s gone.

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