Maybe Now (Maybe #2)(66)

After we tell Maggie goodnight, Ridge grabs my hand and leads me to the back seat of the car. He forces Warren to drive home since he drove here, which is fine with me because I really want to share the back seat with Ridge on the ride home.

He reaches across the seat and slides his fingers through mine as we’re pulling out of Maggie’s driveway. He pulls out his phone and texts me one-handed.



Ridge: You’re like the Bridgette whisperer. I don’t know how you do it.

Sydney: She’s not that bad. I think she’s always so defensive because no one has ever really made any effort to break through that defensiveness.

Ridge: Exactly. It says something that you made the effort.

Sydney: So did Warren.

Ridge: Only because he wanted to sleep with her. I don’t think he ever expected to fall in love with her. That was a surprise to everyone. Especially him.

Sydney: You have unique friends. I like them.

Ridge: They’re your friends now, too.



He squeezes my hand after I read his text. Then he reaches over and unbuckles my seatbelt, pulling me closer to him. Once I’m in the middle of the backseat, he refastens the middle seatbelt around me, pulling me against him. “Better,” he says, wrapping his arm around me.

His thumb is grazing my shoulder, but his hand eventually makes its way down, just far enough so that he can trace the faded letters he wrote over my heart. He presses his mouth against my ear. “Mine,” he says quietly.

I smile and place my hand over his heart. “Mine,” I whisper.

Ridge presses his mouth to mine, and I smile through the whole kiss. I can’t help it. When he pulls back, he leans against the door, pulling me even closer. I lift my legs onto the seat and curl them under me as I snuggle against him.

This feels right. Finally. It used to feel so wrong, but nothing about us feels wrong anymore. I owe a lot of that to Maggie’s willingness to forgive and move forward and even accept me into her life after everything that happened.

So much has changed in the past year. The day I turned twenty-two, I thought it was going to be the worst year of my life. But little did I know, a boy on a balcony with his guitar would change all of that.

Now I’m here in his arms, unable and unwilling to wipe the smile off my face because his heart is mine.

MINE.





It’s really hard to tell Warren everything he’s doing wrong when my hands are full with the mattress we’re carrying upstairs and his headphones on. I’d really hate to see him try to maneuver a boat or back up a trailer if he can’t even walk forward up the damn stairs while pushing a mattress.

I also don’t understand why we’re even moving Maggie’s mattress upstairs. Her apartment will be ready in four days, and there’s a couch, plus Brennan’s bed is empty. But I’m not arguing, because if she’s going to be in my apartment, I’d rather her be in the farthest bedroom from mine just so this will feel less awkward, even though I’ll be staying the night at Sydney’s this week.

Warren stops three steps from the top to take a break. He leans his arm on the railing and pulls his headphones off. “This is the only thing we’re moving, right? Everything else stays in the U-Haul?”

I nod and sign for him to pick up the mattress again. He rolls his eyes and readjusts his grip, pushing it toward me.

Maggie’s new apartment is on the other side of the complex. Close to Sydney’s old apartment, actually. Maggie has tried to back out several times and find somewhere else to stay because she’s worried it’ll be too much, living so close. But this will honestly be better for everyone. She gets sick so often, and for the past year I’ve had to spend a huge chunk of my nights in San Antonio. Even if she’s only a few miles away, her being in another complex would require me or Warren to stay overnights when she’s sick because she gets so weak, she can’t even get out of bed.

With her being in the same complex, it’ll make everything easier. I won’t have to spend uncomfortable nights in the same apartment as her, but she’ll be close enough that Warren or I can run over there and check on her every hour. I honestly think that’s why Sydney was so agreeable to it. She’s seen Maggie during the sicker times, and Sydney knows when Maggie’s down for the count, even a glass of water is impossible for her to get on her own. Not to mention her medications, making sure she’s doing her breathing treatments while she’s weak and recovering from an illness, ensuring her sugar levels are good every few hours. If she weren’t in the same complex, her care would require a car to get to her, and leaving her alone wouldn’t be possible. But being in the same complex, it actually requires less of my time and less of my presence and, in the end, will make Maggie feel more independent. Which is what she wants.

We’re leaving everything else in the U-Haul because one of Warren’s co-workers also works part time for the company who is renting it to us. They’re allowing us to keep it for the week for just nineteen dollars a day, so it’ll remain full of Maggie’s stuff and parked in the parking lot until she moves into her place.

Maggie is still down at the U-Haul, gathering what she’ll need to get her through the next four days. Sydney went to pick Bridgette up from work. Warren and I finally get the mattress into the bedroom and plop it flat on the floor. Warren is breathing heavily with his hands on his hips. He looks over at me. “Why aren’t you out of breath?”