Maybe Someday(10)

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Me: It’s too dark to read. I’ll go inside and

text them to you, but you have to promise

you’ll never ask me to do this again.

The light from his phone illuminates his smile,

and he nods at me, then picks up his guitar and

walks back inside his apartment.

I go to my room and sit on the bed, wondering

if it’s too late to change my mind. I feel as if this whole conversation just ruined my eight o’clock

patio time. I can’t go back outside and listen to

him ever again. I liked it better when I thought he

didn’t know I was there. It was like my own per-

sonal space with my own personal concert. Now

I’ll be way too aware of him to actually enjoy

listening, and I curse him for ruining that.

I regretfully text him my lyrics, then turn my

phone on silent and leave it on my bed as I go in-

to the living room and try to forget this ever

happened.

Ridge

Holy shit. She’s good. Really good. Brennan is

going to love this. I know if he agrees to use

them, we’ll need her to sign a release, and we’ll

have to pay her something. But it’s worth it, es-

pecially if the rest of her lyrics are as good as

these.

But the question is, will she be willing to help

out? She obviously doesn’t have much confid-

ence in her talent, but that’s the least of my wor-

ries. The biggest worry is how I’ll persuade her

to send me more lyrics. Or how to get her to

write with me. I doubt her boyfriend would go for that. He has to be the biggest jerk I’ve ever laid

eyes on. I can’t believe the balls of that guy, es-

pecially after watching him last night. He comes

outside on the patio and kisses Sydney, cuddling

up to her in the chair like the most attentive boy-

friend in the world. Then, the second she turns

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her back, he’s out on the patio with the other

chick. Sydney must have been in the shower, be-

cause the two of them rushed outside as if they

were on a timer, and the chick had her legs

wrapped around his waist and her mouth on his

faster than I could even blink. And it wasn’t a

first-time occurrence. I’ve seen it happen so

many times I’ve lost count.

It’s really not my place to inform Sydney that

the guy she’s dating is screwing her roommate. I

especially can’t tell her through a text. But if

Maggie were cheating on me, I’d sure as hell

want to know about it. I just don’t know Sydney

well enough to tell her something like that. Usu-

ally, the person to break the news is the one to

catch all the blame, anyway. Especially if the

person being cheated on doesn’t want to believe

it. I could send her an anonymous note, but the

douchebag boyfriend would more than likely be

able to talk his way out of it.

I won’t do anything for now. It’s not my place,

and until I get to know her better, I’m not in a

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position for her to trust me. My phone vibrates in

my pocket, and I pull it out, hoping Sydney de-

cided to send me more lyrics, but the text is from

Maggie.

Maggie: Almost home. See you in two

weeks.

Me: I didn’t say text me when you’re al-

most home. I said text me when you’re

home. Now, stop texting and driving.

Maggie: Okay.

Me: Stop!

Maggie: Okay!

I toss the phone onto the bed and refuse to text

her back. I’m not giving her a reason to text me

again until she makes it home. I walk to the kit-

chen for a beer, then take a seat next to a passed-

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out Warren on the couch. I grab the remote and

hit info to see what he’s watching.

Porn.

Figures. The guy can’t watch anything without

nudity. I start to change the channel, but he

snatches the remote out of my hands. “It’s my

night.”

I don’t know if it was Warren or Bridgette who

decided we should divvy up the TV, but it was

the worst idea ever. Especially since I’m still not

sure which night is actually mine, even though,

technically, this is my apartment. I’m lucky if

either of them pays rent on a quarterly basis. I put

up with it because Warren has been my best

friend since high school, and Bridgette is . . .

well, she’s too mean for me to even want to

strike up a conversation with her. I’ve avoided

that since Brennan let her move in six months

ago. I really don’t have to worry about money

right now, thanks to my job and the cut Brennan

gives me, so I just leave it alone. I still don’t

know how Brennan met Bridgette or how they’re

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involved, but even though their relationship isn’t

sexual, he obviously cares about her. I have no