Maybe Someday (Maybe #1)(33)

“So,” she says, “we’re going out tonight to celebrate.”

I pause. “We?”

She nods. “Yeah. Me, you, Ridge, Warren, if he’s not busy. We can invite Bridgette, but that’s laughable.” She walks past me toward Ridge’s bedroom, then turns to face me again. “Can you be ready in an hour?”

“Um.” I shrug. “Okay.”

She opens Ridge’s bedroom door and slips inside. I stand frozen, listening. Why am I listening?

I hear Maggie giggling behind the closed door, and it makes me wince.

Oh, yay. This should be fun.





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 psychology 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.

“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 myself 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 going out.

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.

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.

“She doesn’t want any,” I sign to Maggie. Warren walks out of his bedroom and sees Maggie 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 expressions 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 wearing baggy shirts or walking around with her hair 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 thinking 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 that says he didn’t enjoy whatever just went down his throat.

“What the hell?” Maggie says, scrunching up her face and wiping her mouth.

Sydney runs into the kitchen with her hand over her mouth. She’s shaking her head, trying not to laugh, but she looks apologetic at the same time. “I’m sorry,” she keeps saying over and over.