Maybe Someday(47)

We reach the exit, and I notice Ridge is carry-

ing Maggie now. Her arms are draped around his

neck, and her eyes are closed. Once we reach the

car, she opens her eyes as Ridge tries to stand her

up. She attempts to take a step but ends up stum-

bling. Ridge opens the back door, and she prac-

tically falls inside. He scoots her to the other side of the seat, and she falls against the door, closing

her eyes again. Ridge steps out of the way and

motions for Warren to climb in. Warren steps

forward and reaches up to Ridge’s face. He pats

Ridge’s cheek and says, “I feel bad for you,

buddy. I bet it’s really hard not to kiss Sydney,

cuz it’s hard for me, and I don’t even like her like

you do.”

Warren climbs inside the car and falls against

Maggie. I’m thankful that he was too drunk to

sign any of that, because I know that Ridge didn’t

understand what he said. I can tell by the

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confused look Ridge is giving me. He laughs and

bends down, lifting Warren’s leg, which is still

hanging out of the car. He pushes it inside the car

and closes the door, and my mind is still stuck on

Warren’s words.

Ridge reaches in front of me and pulls on the

handle of the front passenger door, then opens it.

I step forward, but the second Ridge’s hand rests

against my lower back, I pause.

I glance up at him, and he’s looking straight

down at me. His hand remains on my lower back

as I force myself to slowly close the gap between

myself and the car. The second I begin to lower

myself into the seat, his hand slips away, and he

waits until I’m all the way inside the car, then

closes the door.

I lean my head back into the seat and close my

eyes, terrified of what that simple gesture just did

to me.

I hear him take his position behind the wheel,

and the car cranks, but I continue to keep my

eyes closed. I don’t want to look at him. I don’t

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want to feel what I feel when I look at him. I

don’t like how every minute I spend with him, I

feel more and more like a Tori.

My phone receives a text, so I’m forced to

open my eyes. Ridge is holding his phone, watch-

ing me.

Ridge: She doesn’t do this a lot. Probably

not even three times a year. She’s been

under a lot of stress lately, and she likes

to go out. It helps.

Me: I wasn’t judging her.

Ridge: I know. I just wanted you to know

she’s not a raging alcoholic like I am.

He winks at me, and I laugh. I glance into the

backseat, where Warren is draped across Maggie.

They’re both out cold. I turn back around in my

seat and text him again.

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Me: Thank you for telling me all that earli-

er. You didn’t have to, and I know you

probably didn’t want to, but thank you.

He gives me a sideways glance, then returns

his attention to his phone.

Ridge: I’ve never told anyone that story.

Not even Brennan. He was probably too

young to even remember it.

He sets his phone down and puts the car in re-

verse, then begins to back out.

Why is it that the only question I wish I could

ask him right now is the most inappropriate one?

I want to ask him if he’s ever told Maggie, but

his answer shouldn’t matter to me. It shouldn’t

matter at all, but it does.

He begins to drive, and he reaches down and

turns on the radio, which confuses me. He can’t

hear it, so I don’t understand why he would care

if it was on or off.

But then I realize he didn’t do it for himself.

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He turned it on for me.

Ridge

After stopping at a drive-thru for food, we pull up

to the apartment complex. I put the car in park.

Me: Take the food up and unlock the door

while I wake them up.

She picks up our two drinks and the bag of

food. She heads up to the apartment, and I walk

to the back door and open it. I shake Warren

awake and help him out of the car. Then I wake

Maggie up and help her out. She’s still too out of

it to walk, so I pick her up and shut the door be-

hind me. I make sure Warren walks ahead of me

up the stairs, because I’m not positive he won’t

fall down them.

When we make it inside, Warren stumbles to

his bedroom, and I walk Maggie into my room. I

lay her on the bed and take off her shoes, then her

clothes. I pull the covers over her, then head back

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into the dining room, where Sydney has laid out

our food. It’s almost midnight, and we haven’t

eaten since lunch. I take a seat in front of her.

Me: So now that you know one of my

deep, dark secrets, I want to know one of