Maybe Someday(42)

Ridge

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay in tonight?”

Maggie shakes her head. “That poor girl needs

to have some fun, with the week she’s had. And

I’ve been so overwhelmed with my internship

and the T word. I need a night out.” She leans

forward and kisses me on the chin. “Do you want

to get a cab so you can drink, or do you want to

drive?”

She knows I won’t drink around her. I don’t

know why she always tries her reverse psycho-

logy on me. “Nice try,” I sign. “I’ll drive.”

She laughs. “I have to change and get ready.

We’re leaving in an hour.” She tries to slide off

me, but I grip her waist and roll her onto her

back. I know for a fact that it never takes her

more than half an hour to get ready. That leaves a

good thirty minutes.

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“Allow me to help you out of your clothes,

then.” I pull her shirt off over her head, and my

eyes drop to the very thin, intricately laced bra

she has on. I grin. “Is this new?”

She nods and smiles her sexy smile. “I bought

it for you. Front clasp, just how you like it.”

I pinch the clasp and undo it. “Thank you. I

can’t wait to try it on.”

She laughs and slaps my arm. I take off her

bra, then lower myself on top of her and drop my

mouth to hers.

I spend the next half hour reminding myself

how much I’ve missed her. I remind myself how

much I love her. I remind myself how good it

feels when we’re together. I keep reminding my-

self over and over, because for the past week, it

felt as if I was starting to forget.

? ? ?

Me: Be ready in thirty minutes. We’re go-
ing out.

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Warren: I don’t want to go, have an early

shift tomorrow.

No. He has to go. I can’t go out with Maggie

and Sydney by myself.

Me: No, you’re going. Be ready in thirty

minutes.

Warren: No, I’m not. Have fun.

Me: You’re going. 30.

Warren: Not going.

Me: Going.

Warren: Not.

Me: Yes.

Warren: No.

Me: Please? You owe me.

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Warren: What the hell do I owe you for?

Me: Let’s see, about a year’s worth of

rent, for one.

Warren: Low blow, man. Fine.

Thank God. I don’t know what Sydney gets

like when she drinks, but if she’s a lightweight

like Maggie is, I don’t think I can handle the two

of them on my own.

I walk to the kitchen, and Maggie is at the

sink, pulling out the bottle of Pine-Sol. She holds

it up to ask if I want any, and I shake my head.

“Figured I’d save money if I downed a couple

of shots here first. You think Sydney wants any?”

I shrug but pull out my phone to ask her.

Me: You want a shot before we go?

Sydney: No, thank you. Not sure I feel

like drinking tonight, but you go right

ahead.

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“She doesn’t want any,” I sign to Maggie.

Warren walks out of his bedroom and sees Mag-

gie pouring a shot from the Pine-Sol container.

Shit. There goes the hiding spot.

He doesn’t even blink when he sees her filling

her shot glass. “Make it two,” he says to her. “If

Ridge is forcing me to go out tonight, I’m getting

so wasted he’ll regret it.”

I cock my head. “How long have you known

that wasn’t cleaning solution?”

He shrugs. “You’re deaf, Ridge. You would be

surprised how many times I’m behind you and

you don’t even know it.” He picks up the shot

Maggie poured, and they both turn their attention

to something behind me. Their shocked expres-

sions force me to turn around and see what

they’re looking at.

Oh, wow.

I shouldn’t have turned around.

Sydney is walking out of her bedroom, but I’m

not sure if it’s really Sydney. This girl isn’t wear-

ing baggy shirts or walking around with her hair

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pulled up and a naked face. This girl is wearing a

strapless black dress that’s anything but simple.

Her blond hair is down and thick, and I’m think-

ing it probably smells as incredible as it looks.

She smiles past me and says “Thanks” to either

Maggie or Warren, one of whom more than

likely just told her how great she looks. She’s

smiling at them, but then she holds her hands up

and yells, “No!” just as a mist of liquid rains

down on me from behind.

I spin around, and Warren and Maggie are

both coughing and spitting into the sink. Warren

is sipping straight from the faucet, making a face