Chapter Eight
Sydney
Why am I so pissed? We didn’t do anything.
Did we?
I can’t even tell what the hell happened last
night before we fell asleep. Technically, it wasn’t
anything, but then again, it was, which is prob-
ably why I’m so pissed, because I’m so freaking
confused.
First he doesn’t tell me about Hunter for two
solid weeks. Then he fails to mention that he’s
deaf, although I really have no right to be upset
about that. That’s not something I should feel ob-
ligated to have been told.
But Maggie?
Girlfriend?
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How could he fail to mention in the three
weeks I’ve been talking to him that he has a
girlfriend?
He’s just like Hunter. He has a dick and two
balls and no heart, and that makes him Hunter’s
twin. I should probably just start calling him
Hunter. I should just call them all Hunter. From here on out, all men shall be referred to as
Hunter.
My father should be thanking the high heavens
that I’m not in law school, because I am by far
the absolute worst judge of character who has
ever walked the planet.
Ridge: False alarm. It was just Warren.
Sorry about that.
Me: SCREW. YOU.
Ridge: ???
Me: Don’t even.
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A few seconds pass with me staring at my si-
lent phone, and then a knock comes from the
bathroom. Ridge swings the door open and enters
my room, holding his hands with his palms up in
the air as if he has no idea why I’m upset. I
laugh, but it isn’t a happy laugh at all.
Me: This conversation will require a
laptop. I have a lot to say.
I open my computer as he makes his way back
to his room. I give him a minute to log on, then I
open our chat.
Ridge: Can you please explain why you’re
so pissed?
Me: Hmm. Let me count the ways. (1)
You have a girlfriend. (2) You have a girl-
friend. (3) Why, if you have a girlfriend,
was I even in your BEDROOM? (4) You
have a girlfriend!
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Ridge: I have a girlfriend. Yes. And you
were in my room because we agreed to
work on lyrics together. I don’t recall any-
thing happening between us last night to
warrant this reaction from you. Or am I
mistaken?
Me: Ridge, it’s been three weeks! I’ve
known you for three weeks now, and
you’ve never ONCE mentioned that you
have a girlfriend. And speaking of Maggie,
does she even know I moved in?
Ridge: Yes. I tell her everything. Look, it
wasn’t an intentional omission, I swear.
You and I have just never had a conversa-
tion where she came up.
Me: Okay, I’ll let it go that you failed to
mention her, but I’m not about to let
everything else slide.
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Ridge: And this is where I’m confused, be-
cause I’m not clear on what you think we
did.
Me: You’re such a guy.
Ridge: Ouch? I guess.
Me: Can you honestly say that your reac-
tion to the possibility of her being at your
door earlier was a normal, innocent reac-
tion? You were freaking out that she
would see me with you, which means you
were doing something you wouldn’t want
her to see. I know all we did was fall
asleep, but what about the WAY we fell
asleep? Do you think she would have been
okay with the fact that you had your arms
around me all night and your face was
practically glued to my chest? And not
only that, but what about the fact that I
sat between your legs the other night?
Would she have smiled and kissed you
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hello if she had walked in right then? I
doubt it. I’m fairly certain that would have
ended with me being punched.
Ugh! Why is this upsetting me so much? I
bang my head lightly against the headboard out
of frustration.
Moments later, Ridge appears in the doorway
between our bathroom and my bedroom. He’s
chewing on the corner of his bottom lip. His fea-
tures are a lot calmer than when he was in here
just a few minutes ago. He walks slowly into my
room, then sits on the edge of my bed with his
laptop on his knees.
Ridge: I’m sorry.
Me: Yeah. Good. Whatever. Go away.
Ridge: Really, Sydney. I haven’t been
looking at it like that at all. The last thing
I want is for things to be weird between
us. I like you. I have fun with you. But if
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for one second I led you to believe that
something was going to happen between
us, I am so, so sorry.
I sigh and attempt to blink the tears away.
Me: I’m not upset because I thought
something was going to happen between
us, Ridge. I don’t WANT anything to hap-
pen between us. I haven’t even been
single for a whole week yet. I’m upset be-
cause I feel like there was a moment, or
maybe two, when—as much as neither of
us wants to cross that line—we almost
did. And you can deal with your actions on
your own, but the fact that I was unaware
that you had a girlfriend was really unfair
to me. I feel like—
I lean my head back against the headboard and
squeeze my eyes shut, long enough to force back
the tears once more.
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Ridge: You feel like what?
Me: I feel like you almost made me a Tori.
I absolutely would have kissed you last
night, and the fact that I didn’t know you
were involved with someone would have
made me a Tori. I don’t want to be a Tori,
Ridge. I can’t tell you how much their be-
trayal hurts me, and I will never, ever do
that to another girl. So that’s why I’m up-
set. I don’t even know Maggie, yet you
made me feel like I’ve already betrayed
her. And as innocent as you may be, I’m
blaming you for that one.
Ridge finishes reading my message, then
calmly lies back on the bed. He brings his palms
to his forehead and inhales a deep breath. We
both remain still as we think about the situation.
After several quiet minutes, he sits back up.
Ridge: I don’t even know what to say
right now other than I’m sorry. You’re
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right. Even though I thought you knew
about Maggie, I can absolutely see what
you’re saying. But I also need you to
know that I would never do something
like that to her. Granted, what happened
between us last night is not something I
would ever want Maggie to see, but that’s
mostly because Maggie doesn’t under-
stand the process of writing music. It’s a
very intimate thing, and because I can’t
hear, I do have to use my hands or my
ears to understand things that come nat-
urally to others. That’s all it was. I wasn’t
trying to cause anything to happen
between us. I was just curious. I was in-
trigued. And I was wrong.
Me: I understand. I never thought for a
second that your intentions weren’t genu-
ine when you asked me to sing for you.
Everything just happened so fast earlier,
and I was still trying to recover from the
fact that I woke up in your bed and the
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lights were flickering. Then you go and
flash the word “girlfriend” in my face. It’s
a lot to process. And I believe you when
you say you thought I knew about her.
Ridge: Thank you.
Me: Just promise me one thing. Promise
me you will never be a Hunter, and I will
never, ever be a Tori.
Ridge: I promise. And that’s impossible,
because we’re so much more talented
than they are.
He glances up and smiles his smiley smile at
me, which makes me automatically smile in
return.
Me: Now, get out of here. I’m going back
to sleep, because someone spent the
whole night drooling on my boobs and
snoring way too loud.
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Ridge laughs, but before he leaves, he mes-
sages me one last time.
Ridge: I’m excited for you to meet her. I
really think you’ll like her.
He closes his laptop, stands, and walks back to
his room.
I close my laptop and pull the covers over my
head.
I hate that my heart is wishing so bad that he
didn’t have a girlfriend.
? ? ?
“No, she already moved in,” Bridgette says. Her
cell phone is propped up on her shoulder, and
from the sound of it, she just broke the news to
her sister that I’ve taken the empty bedroom.
Bridgette completely ignores that I’m even in the
same room with her and continues talking about
me.
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I know the fact that I haven’t clarified that I’m
not deaf is a little mean, but who is she to assume
I can’t read lips?
“I don’t know; she’s a friend of Ridge’s. I
should have ignored him when he asked if I
would go—in the rain, mind you—and bring her
up to the apartment. Apparently, her boyfriend
dumped her, and she had nowhere else to go.”
She pulls a seat out at the bar and sits with her
back facing me. She laughs at something the per-
son on the other end of the line says. “Tell me
about it. He seems to enjoy taking in strays,
doesn’t he?”
I grip the remote in my hand and hold it tightly
in an attempt to keep from hurling it at the back
of her head.
“I told you not to ask about Warren,” she says
with a sigh. “You know he irritates the hell out of
me, but I just . . . dammit, I just can’t stay away.”
Wait. Did I just hear that correctly? Might
Bridgette have . . . feelings?
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She’s lucky I like Warren, or the remote would
be greeting her pretty little head right now. She’s
also lucky someone is knocking at the door
loudly enough to distract me from hurting her.
Bridgette stands up and turns to face me,
pointing at the front door. “SOMEONE’S . . . AT
. . . THE . . . DOOR!” Rather than answer it, she
walks to her bedroom and closes her door.
So hospitable, that one.
I stand and make my way to the front door,
knowing it’s more than likely Maggie. I place my
hand on the doorknob and inhale a steady breath.
Here we go.
I open the door, and standing in front of me is
one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever laid
eyes on. Her hair is straight and jet-black, and it
falls around two naturally tanned shoulders. Her
face is smiling. Her whole, entire face is beam-
ing. She’s nothing but a face full of beautiful
white teeth, and they’re smiling at me, and it’s
making me smile back, even though I really don’t
want to.
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I was really hoping she was ugly. I don’t know
why.
“Sydney?” she says. It’s just one word, but I
can tell by her voice that she’s deaf, like Ridge.
But, unlike Ridge, she speaks. And she enunci-
ates really well.
“You must be the girlfriend!” I say with
feigned excitement. Is it feigned? Maybe not. Her entire demeanor is making me feel sunny and
happy, and maybe I am a tiny bit excited to meet
her?
Weird.
She steps forward and gives me a hug. I close
the door behind us, and she slips off her shoes
and heads to the refrigerator.
“Ridge has told me a lot about you,” she says
as she pops open a soda, then walks to the cabin-
et for a glass. “I think it’s great that you’re help-
ing him through his writer’s block. Poor guy has
been stressing for months now.” She fills her cup
with ice and soda. “So how are you fitting in? I
see you’ve survived Bridgette. And Warren has
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to be a pain in the ass.” She looks at me expect-
antly, but I’m still loving the fact that she’s so . . .
Pleasant? Likable? Cheerful?
I smile back at her and lean against the
counter. I’m trying to figure out exactly how to
respond to her. She’s speaking to me as if she can
hear me, so I reply the same way.
“I like it,” I say. “I’ve never lived with this
many people before, so it’s taking some getting
used to.”
She smiles and tucks a lock of her hair behind
her ear.
Ugh. Even her ears are pretty.
“Good,” she says. “Ridge told me about your
shitty birthday last weekend and how he took you
out for cake, but it didn’t make up for you never
having the chance to celebrate.”
I have to be honest. It bothers me that he told
her he took me out for cake. It bothers me, be-
cause maybe he’s right and he does tell her
everything. And it also bothers me because he
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seems to tell me nothing. Not that I’ve earned
that right from him.
God, I hate feelings. Or I hate my conscience.
The two are constantly at war, and I’m not sure
which one I’d rather turn off.
“So,” she says, “we’re going out tonight to
celebrate.”
I pause. “We?”
She nods. “Yeah. Me, you, Ridge, Warren, if
he’s not busy. We can invite Bridgette, but that’s
laughable.” She walks past me toward Ridge’s
bedroom, then turns to face me again. “Can you
be ready in an hour?”
“Um.” I shrug. “Okay.”
She opens Ridge’s bedroom door and slips in-
side. I stand frozen, listening. Why am I
listening?
I hear Maggie giggling behind the closed door,
and it makes me wince.
Oh, yay. This should be fun.
Ridge
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay in tonight?”
Maggie shakes her head. “That poor girl needs
to have some fun, with the week she’s had. And
I’ve been so overwhelmed with my internship
and the T word. I need a night out.” She leans
forward and kisses me on the chin. “Do you want
to get a cab so you can drink, or do you want to
drive?”
She knows I won’t drink around her. I don’t
know why she always tries her reverse psycho-
logy on me. “Nice try,” I sign. “I’ll drive.”
She laughs. “I have to change and get ready.
We’re leaving in an hour.” She tries to slide off
me, but I grip her waist and roll her onto her
back. I know for a fact that it never takes her
more than half an hour to get ready. That leaves a
good thirty minutes.
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“Allow me to help you out of your clothes,
then.” I pull her shirt off over her head, and my
eyes drop to the very thin, intricately laced bra
she has on. I grin. “Is this new?”
She nods and smiles her sexy smile. “I bought
it for you. Front clasp, just how you like it.”
I pinch the clasp and undo it. “Thank you. I
can’t wait to try it on.”
She laughs and slaps my arm. I take off her
bra, then lower myself on top of her and drop my
mouth to hers.
I spend the next half hour reminding myself
how much I’ve missed her. I remind myself how
much I love her. I remind myself how good it
feels when we’re together. I keep reminding my-
self over and over, because for the past week, it
felt as if I was starting to forget.
? ? ?
Me: Be ready in thirty minutes. We’re go-
ing out.
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Warren: I don’t want to go, have an early
shift tomorrow.
No. He has to go. I can’t go out with Maggie
and Sydney by myself.
Me: No, you’re going. Be ready in thirty
minutes.
Warren: No, I’m not. Have fun.
Me: You’re going. 30.
Warren: Not going.
Me: Going.
Warren: Not.
Me: Yes.
Warren: No.
Me: Please? You owe me.
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Warren: What the hell do I owe you for?
Me: Let’s see, about a year’s worth of
rent, for one.
Warren: Low blow, man. Fine.
Thank God. I don’t know what Sydney gets
like when she drinks, but if she’s a lightweight
like Maggie is, I don’t think I can handle the two
of them on my own.
I walk to the kitchen, and Maggie is at the
sink, pulling out the bottle of Pine-Sol. She holds
it up to ask if I want any, and I shake my head.
“Figured I’d save money if I downed a couple
of shots here first. You think Sydney wants any?”
I shrug but pull out my phone to ask her.
Me: You want a shot before we go?
Sydney: No, thank you. Not sure I feel
like drinking tonight, but you go right
ahead.
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“She doesn’t want any,” I sign to Maggie.
Warren walks out of his bedroom and sees Mag-
gie pouring a shot from the Pine-Sol container.
Shit. There goes the hiding spot.
He doesn’t even blink when he sees her filling
her shot glass. “Make it two,” he says to her. “If
Ridge is forcing me to go out tonight, I’m getting
so wasted he’ll regret it.”
I cock my head. “How long have you known
that wasn’t cleaning solution?”
He shrugs. “You’re deaf, Ridge. You would be
surprised how many times I’m behind you and
you don’t even know it.” He picks up the shot
Maggie poured, and they both turn their attention
to something behind me. Their shocked expres-
sions force me to turn around and see what
they’re looking at.
Oh, wow.
I shouldn’t have turned around.
Sydney is walking out of her bedroom, but I’m
not sure if it’s really Sydney. This girl isn’t wear-
ing baggy shirts or walking around with her hair
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pulled up and a naked face. This girl is wearing a
strapless black dress that’s anything but simple.
Her blond hair is down and thick, and I’m think-
ing it probably smells as incredible as it looks.
She smiles past me and says “Thanks” to either
Maggie or Warren, one of whom more than
likely just told her how great she looks. She’s
smiling at them, but then she holds her hands up
and yells, “No!” just as a mist of liquid rains
down on me from behind.
I spin around, and Warren and Maggie are
both coughing and spitting into the sink. Warren
is sipping straight from the faucet, making a face
that says he didn’t enjoy whatever just went
down his throat.
“What the hell?” Maggie says, scrunching up
her face and wiping her mouth.
Sydney runs into the kitchen with her hand
over her mouth. She’s shaking her head, trying
not to laugh, but she looks apologetic at the same
time. “I’m sorry,” she keeps saying over and
over.
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What the hell just happened?
Warren composes himself, then turns to
Sydney. He speaks and signs at the same time,
which I appreciate. He can’t know how isolating
it feels when you’re in a group of people who
hear, but no matter what, he always signs when
I’m in the room with him. “Did we actually just
almost drink an entire shot of Pine-Sol?”
He’s eyeing Sydney hard. She answers him,
and he signs her response for my benefit. She
says, “You two weren’t supposed to drink it. It
was supposed to be Ridge. And no, I didn’t actu-
ally put Pine-Sol in there, idiot. I’m not trying to
kill the guy. It was apple juice and vinegar.”
She tried to prank me.
And she failed.
I start laughing and text her.
Me: Nice try. That was a valiant effort, al-
though it backfired.
She flips me off.
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I look at Maggie; luckily, she’s laughing about
it. “There is no way I could live here,” she says.
She walks to the refrigerator and pulls out the
milk, then makes herself and Warren a quick
drink to wash away the aftertaste.
“Let’s go,” Warren says after he downs the
milk and tosses his cup into the sink. “Ridge is
driving cuz I won’t be able to walk in three
hours.”