Maybe Someday(70)

I have to use my sense of touch to replace my

sense of hearing in some situations. So while

we’re in those situations, the lines become

muddy, and reactions become unintentional.

As much as I wish I could admit we’ve moved

past our attraction for each other, I can’t deny

that I feel mine growing with each day that

passes. Being around her isn’t necessarily hard

all the time, though. Just most of the time.

Whatever is going on between us, I know

Maggie wouldn’t approve, and I try to do right by

my relationship with her. However, since I can’t

really define where the line is drawn between in-

appropriate and appropriate, it makes it hard to

stay on the right side sometimes.

Like right now.

I’m staring down at my phone, about to text

her, and she’s leaning behind me, both of her

hands kneading the tension out of my shoulders.

With as much writing as we’ve been doing and

the fact that I sit on the floor now instead of the

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bed, I’ve had a few issues with my back. It’s be-

come natural for her to rub it when she knows it’s

hurting.

Would I let her do this when Maggie was in

the room? Hell, no. Do I stop her? No. Should I?

Absolutely.

I know without a doubt that I don’t want to

cheat on Maggie. I’ve never been that type of

guy, and I don’t ever want to be that type of guy.

The problem is, I’m not thinking about Maggie

when I’m with Sydney. The times I spend with

Sydney are spent with Sydney, and nothing else

crosses my mind. But the times I spend with

Maggie are spent with Maggie. I don’t think

about Sydney.

It’s as though times with Maggie and times

with Sydney occur on two different planets. Plan-

ets that don’t intersect and in time zones that

don’t overlap.

Until tomorrow, anyway.

We’ve all spent time together in the past, but

not since I’ve been honest with myself about how

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I feel for Sydney. And although I would never

want Maggie to know I’ve developed feelings for

someone else, I’m worried she’ll be able to tell.

I tell myself that with enough effort, I can

learn to control my feelings. But then Sydney

will do or say something or give me a look, and I

can literally feel the part of my heart that belongs

to her getting fuller. As much as I want it to

empty. I’m worried that feelings are the one thing

in our lives that we have absolutely no control

over.

Chapter Fifteen

Sydney

Me: What’s taking you so long? Are you

writing a damn book?

I don’t know if my rubbing his shoulders is

putting him to sleep, but he’s been staring at his

phone for five solid minutes.

Ridge: Sorry. Lost in thought.

Me: I can see that. So, Sounds of Cedar?

Ridge: It’s kind of a long story. Let me

grab my laptop.

I open up our Facebook messages on my

phone. When he returns, he leans against a

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counter several feet away from me. I’m aware of

the fact that he’s put space between us, and it

makes me feel somewhat uncomfortable, because

I know I shouldn’t have been rubbing his

shoulders. It’s too much, considering what’s

happened between us in the past, but I feel as if

it’s my fault his shoulders hurt in the first place.

He doesn’t really complain about what playing

on the floor is doing to him, but I can tell it hurts sometimes. Especially after nights like last night,

when we wrote for three hours straight. I asked

him to start playing on the floor to help with the

fact that things seem to be more difficult when

he’s on the bed. If I didn’t still have such a huge

crush on his guitar playing, it might not be as big

a problem.

But I do still have a definite crush on his guitar

playing. And I would say I have a definite crush

on him, but crush doesn’t even begin to define it.

I’m not even going to try to define how I feel

about him, because I refuse to let my thoughts go

there. Not now and not ever.

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Ridge: We had all been playing together

for fun for about six months before we got

our first real gig at a local restaurant.

They needed us to give them the name of

our band so they could put us on the

schedule. We had never really considered

ourselves an actual band before that,

since it was all in fun, but that night, we

agreed that maybe for local things like the

restaurant, it would be good to have a

name. We all took turns throwing out sug-

gestions, but we couldn’t seem to agree

on anything. At one point, Brennan sug-

gested we call ourselves Freak Frogs. I