Maybe Now (Maybe #2)(9)

She falls to my side and lifts up onto her elbow. “What’s the sign for the word deaf?”

I make the motion for the word, sliding my hand across my jaw and toward my mouth.

She drags her thumb from her ear to her chin. “Like that?”

I shake my head to let her know she got it wrong. I lift up onto my elbow, then take her hand to tuck in her thumb and straighten out her index finger. I press it to her ear and slide it over her jaw, toward her mouth. “Like that,” I tell her. She repeats the sign for deaf with perfection. It makes me smile. “Perfect.”

She falls back onto her pillow and smiles up at me. I love that she studied sign language for the three months we were apart. As mad as I am at Warren for ruining Game of Thrones for me, I’ll never be able to repay him for everything he’s done to help Sydney and me learn to communicate without so many barriers. He really is a good friend...when he isn’t being a complete asshole.

She’s picked up ASL so fast. Every time she signs something, I’m impressed all over again. It makes me want her to sign everything from now on, and it makes me want to voice all the words I ever say to her.

“My turn,” I say. “How do you make the sound a cat makes?”

There are so many words I still don’t understand, and animal sounds are a huge portion of that. Maybe I struggle with knowing how they should sound because it’s impossible to read lips when the sound is coming from a cat or a dog.

“You mean meow?” she asks.

I nod and press my fingers against her throat so I can feel her voice when she says it. She repeats the word, and then I give it my best attempt. “Me…oh?”

She shakes her head. “First part sounds like…” She signs the word me.

“Me?”

She nods. “Second part…” She lifts her hand to sign the letters Y, O, and W while saying them out loud again. I keep my palm pressed against her throat.

“Again,” I say.

She enunciates slowly. “Me…yow.”

I love the way her lips form a circle at the end of the sound. I bend down and kiss her before trying to speak the sound again. “Me…yow.”

She grins. “Better.”

I say it faster. “Meow.”

“Perfect.”

I start to ask her why meow is used in certain instances, but I forget how new she is at signing, and her eyes grow big with her confusion as she tries to follow along with my hands. I lean over her and grab my phone and type out my question.



Ridge: Why is the word MEOW sometimes used to depict when something is sexy? Does the word make a sexy sound when it’s spoken?



She laughs and her cheeks blush a little when she says, “Very.”

I find that interesting.



Ridge: Is it also sexy when a person barks like a dog?



She shakes her head. “No. Not at all.”

The verbal form of the English language is so confusing. But I love learning more about it from her. It’s the first thing that drew me to her beyond the physical attraction. Her patience with my inability to hear and her eagerness in wanting to know all about it. There aren’t a lot of people like her in this world, and every single time she signs for me, it reminds me how lucky I am.

I pull her closer and lean toward her ear. “Meow.” When I pull back, she’s no longer smiling. She’s looking at me like that was the sexiest thing she’s ever heard. She confirms my thoughts by sliding her fingers through my hair and pulling my mouth to hers. I roll on top of her and part her lips with my tongue. Just as I start to give her a deeper kiss, I feel the vibration of her moan, and then I’m a goner.

And so are our clothes. So much for taking it slow tonight.





I follow the path of Ridge’s finger with my eyes as he runs it back and forth over my stomach. We’ve been lying like this for five minutes now, him running his fingers in soft circles over my skin while he watches me. Every now and then, he kisses me, but we’re both too exhausted for round two.

I don’t even know how he’s still awake. He barely slept last night at my house because he stayed up writing that song for me, and then as soon as I got here an hour and a half ago, we came straight to the bedroom and have stayed fairly busy. It’s almost eight, and if I don’t eat dinner soon, I’m going to fall asleep right here in his bed.

My stomach growls and Ridge laughs, pressing his palm flat against my stomach. “You hungry?”

“You felt that?”

He nods. “Let me shower, and then I’ll figure out dinner.” He kisses me and rolls off the bed, heading for his bathroom. I find his T-shirt and pull it on before heading to the kitchen for something to drink. When I open the refrigerator, someone behind me says, “Hi.”

I yelp, and then I swing the refrigerator door wide open and try to hide my undressed bottom half behind it. Brennan is sitting on the couch, grinning.

So are the two guys from his band, whom I’ve still yet to be formally introduced to.

Brennan tilts his head. “The first night I met you, you weren’t wearing a shirt. And now a shirt is all you’re wearing.”

I can’t recall ever being this mortified in my life. I didn’t even put my panties on, and even though Ridge’s shirt covers my ass, I don’t know how to make it from here all the way back to his bedroom without losing my last shred of dignity.