Maybe Now (Maybe #2)(10)

“Hi,” I say, sticking my arm up over the door with a pathetic wave. “Do you guys mind looking away so I can find some jeans?”

All three of them laugh, but they look at the wall to spare me a few seconds to run back to Ridge’s room. As soon as I start to swing the refrigerator door shut, the front door flies open and Warren stomps into the apartment. I pull the refrigerator door open again to continue shielding myself.

Bridgette storms into the apartment behind Warren, and then Warren slams the door. “Go!” he says, waving her away as she storms across the living room toward their bedroom. “Go hide in your room and give me the silent treatment like you always do!”

Bridgette slams their bedroom door. I look back at Warren, who is staring at Brennan and the other two guys on the couch. “Hey,” he says, still not noticing me. “What’s up?”

None of them are looking at Warren because I asked them to turn toward the wall, so Brennan is still staring at the wall when he says, “Hey, Warren.”

“Why are you staring at the wall?”

Brennan points toward the refrigerator, but continues to stare at the wall. “Waiting for her to run back to her room so she can put some clothes on.”

Warren swings his attention to me and his eyes immediately light up. “Well, what a sight for sore eyes,” he says, tossing his keys on the bar. “I know I see you all the time, but it’s good to finally see you back in this apartment.”

I swallow, doing my best to remain stoic. “It’s…good to be back, Warren.”

He points at the refrigerator door. “You really shouldn’t stand there with the door open like that. Ridge makes me split the bills with him now, and you’re wasting a lot of electricity.”

I nod. “Yeah. Sorry. But I sort of don’t have any pants on, and if you’d walk over there and stare at the wall with those guys, I’ll shut the door and go back to Ridge’s room.”

Warren tilts his head and then takes two steps toward me and leans to the right like he’s trying to look around the refrigerator door.

“See?” Bridgette yells from across the room, standing in Warren’s now-open doorway. “This is exactly what I’m talking about, Warren! You flirt with everyone!” Their door slams again.

Warren rolls his head and sighs, then walks toward their bedroom. I use the opportunity to make a mad dash back to Ridge’s bedroom. I shut the door and lean against it, covering my face with my hands.

I’m never going back out there.

I make my way toward Ridge’s bathroom just as he opens the door. There’s a towel wrapped around his waist, and he’s drying his hair with another towel. I rush toward him and wrap my arms around him, burying my face against his chest as I squeeze my eyes shut. I just start shaking my head until he pulls me away from his chest so he can look at me. I can’t even imagine what he’s seeing because I’m groaning and frowning and laughing at my embarrassment.

“What happened?”

I point to the living room and then sign, “Your brother. Warren. The band. Here.” Then I motion toward my half-naked body and the fact that my butt cheeks are practically hanging out of his T-shirt. He eyes me up and down and then glances toward the living room, then looks at me again, squinting like he’s remembering something.

“The first time you met Brennan…you were wearing a bra. Now you’re wearing—”

“I know,” I groan, falling onto his bed. Ridge starts laughing while he pulls on his jeans. Then he leans forward and I think he’s going to kiss me, but instead he just slips his shirt over my head and pulls it off me. He’s fully dressed, and I’m even more naked than I was when I walked into the room. He hands me my clothes, and I know he wants to officially introduce me to the band, but I want to curl up into a ball and hide until everyone leaves.

I force myself to suck it up and get dressed because Ridge is smiling at me like this entire thing amuses him, and his smile makes me forget how embarrassed I am. The kiss he gives me when he pulls me toward the door makes me forget it even more.

When we walk back into the living room, Brennan is now sitting on the bar with his legs dangling, swinging back and forth. He grins at me, and it’s unnerving how much he and Ridge look alike, carry themselves so differently. Ridge walks me to the couch where the other two members of Sounds of Cedar are standing up to shake my hand.

“Spencer,” the tall brunette one says. He’s the drummer. I know this because I’ve seen them play. I’ve just never actually been introduced to them.

“Price,” the other one says, shaking my hand. He plays lead guitar and sings backup vocals, and while the star of the band is definitely Brennan, I think Price gives him a run for his money. He’s got the rockstar swagger down, even though their music isn’t typically rock. It’s got a more pop/alternative vibe. But he could probably pull off any sound because he’s so charismatic on stage. Brennan sometimes takes a step back and lets him shine.

“I’m Sydney,” I say, with a lot of forced confidence. “It’s so good to finally meet you guys. I’m a huge fan of the band.” I wave my arm across them and over to Brennan. “It’s so impressive how fast you guys get stuff recorded.”

Price laughs and says, “Sydney, we’re all huge fans of yours. Ridge went through a pretty long dry spell until you came along.”