Maybe Someday(72)

looking at me makes me want to lunge for the

freezer and crawl inside.

His eyes are fixed on my mouth, and he quietly

swallows, then reaches beside him and picks up

his phone.

407/692

Ridge: Hurry, Syd. I need a serious flaw,

and I need it now.

I force a smile, although my insides are

screaming for me not to text him back a flaw. It’s

as if my fingers are fighting with themselves as

they fly over the screen in front of me.

Me: Sometimes when I’m frustrated with

you, I wait until you look away, and then I

yell mean things at you.

He laughs, then looks back up at me. “Thank

you,” he silently mouths.

It’s the first time he’s ever mouthed words,

and if he weren’t walking away from me right

now, I’d be begging for him to do it again.

Heart 1.

Sydney 0.

? ? ?

408/692
It’s after midnight, but we finally finish adding

icing to the fifth and final cake. He cleans the last of the ingredients off the counter while I secure

the Saran wrap around the cake pan and slide it

next to the other four pans.

Ridge: Do I finally get to meet the raging

alcoholic side of you tomorrow night?

Me: I’m thinking you just might.

He grins and flips off the kitchen light. I walk

to the living room to power off the TV. Warren

and Bridgette should come home sometime in the

next hour, so I leave the lamp on in the living

room.

Ridge: Will it be weird for you?

Me: Being drunk? Nope. I’m pretty good

at it.

Ridge: No. I mean Maggie.

409/692

I look up at him where he’s standing in front of

his bedroom door, watching his phone, not mak-

ing eye contact with me. He looks nervous that

he even asked the question.

Me: Don’t worry about me, Ridge.

Ridge: Can’t help it. I feel like I’ve put you

in an awkward situation.

Me: You haven’t. I mean, don’t get me

wrong, it would help if you weren’t so at-

tractive, but I’m hoping Brennan looks a

lot like you. That way, when you’re shack-

ing up with Maggie tomorrow night, I can

have drunk, wild fun with your little

brother.

I hit send, then immediately gasp. What the

hell was I thinking? That wasn’t funny. It was

supposed to be funny, but it’s after midnight, and I’m never funny after midnight.

Shit.

410/692

Ridge is still looking down at the screen on his

phone. His jaw twitches, and he shakes his head

slightly, then looks up at me as if I’ve just shot

him through the heart. He drops his arm and runs

his free hand through his hair, then turns to walk

to his room.

I. Suck.

I rush to him and put my hand on his shoulder,

urging him to turn back around. He rolls his

shoulder to brush my hand off but pauses, only

partially turning to face me with a guarded ex-

pression. I step around to his front so he’s forced

to look at me.

“I was kidding,” I say, slowly and very seri-

ously. “I’m sorry.”

His face is still tense and hard and even a little

disappointed, but he lifts his phone and begins

texting again.

Ridge: And therein lies the problem,

Sydney. You should be able to screw who-

ever you want to screw, and I shouldn’t

give a shit.

411/692

I suck in a breath. At first, it pisses me off, but

then I focus in on the one word that reveals the

entire truth behind his statement.

Shouldn’t.

He didn’t say, “I don’t give a shit.” He said, “I

shouldn’t give a shit.”

I look up at him, and his face is so full of pain

it’s heart-breaking.

He doesn’t want to feel like this. I don’t want him to feel like this.

What the hell am I doing to him?

He runs both of his hands through his hair,

looks up at the ceiling, and squeezes his eyes

shut. He stands like this for a while, then exhales

and drops his hands to his hips, lowering his eyes

to the floor.

He feels so guilty he can’t even look at me.

Without making eye contact, he lifts an arm

and grabs my wrist, then pulls me toward him.

He crushes me to his chest, wraps one arm

around my back, and curves his other hand

against the back of my head. My arms are folded

412/692

up and tucked between us while his cheek rests

against the top of my head. He sighs heavily.

I don’t pull away from him in order to text him

a flaw, because I don’t think he’s in need of one

right now. The way he’s holding me is different,

unlike all the times in the past few weeks when

we’ve had to separate ourselves in order to