Maybe Someday (Maybe, #1)(46)

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 having 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 and me. Neither of us breaks our stare to respond to him. After several seconds, Ridge makes the slightest movement with his eyes, motioning toward 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 waiting. 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.

He’s walking in at the same time as I’m closing the door to the bathroom. We pause and stare at each other. These stare-downs 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 begins typing.

Ridge: In what sense?

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 being mad at you help us work through this?

He reads my message and expels a huge breath, leaning his head back against the headboard. He closes his eyes for a moment before lifting his head and responding to me.

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 going 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.

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 obviously attracted to each other, we have a lot in common, and under any other circumstance, I honestly believe we’d be good for each other. I could see myself 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. Although 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 together makes sense, it also makes no sense whatsoever. I can’t leave a relationship 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 honestly, I’m scared to hit enter on this message, 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 feeling so we can continue to make music and 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.