Maybe Now
Page 5
He nods. “Want to see under the hood?”
“Yes.”
He pops the hood with his key fob and then steps next to me to open it. There’s nothing but an empty trunk inside, lined with carpet. No engine. No transmission. There’s just…nothing.
“So there’s no engine at all in these cars? You never have to fill up with gas?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. There’s not even oil that needs changing. Only upkeep is the brakes and tires, really.”
“How do you keep it charged?”
“I have a charger in my garage.”
“You just plug it up at night like you’re charging a phone?”
“Basically.”
I turn back toward the car, admiring it. I can’t believe I get to ride in a Tesla tonight. I’ve been wanting to ride in one for two years. If I had updated my bucket list at all in the past few years, this would definitely be something I’d be crossing off it tonight.
“They’re really good for the environment,” he says, leaning against the hood. “No emissions.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah, that’s nice. But how fast does it go?”
He laughs and crosses his feet at the ankles. His voice is intentionally low and sexy when he raises a brow and says, “Zero to sixty…in 2.5 seconds.”
“Oh, my God.”
He nods at the car. “You want to drive it?”
I glance at the car and then back at him. “Really?”
His smile is sweet. “Actually…let me make a phone call,” he says, pulling out his phone. “I might can get us in over at Harris Hill.”
“What’s Harris Hill?”
He raises the phone to his ear. “A public racetrack in San Marcos.”
I cover my mouth with my hand, trying to hide my excitement. What are the chances that I’ll mark a third of my bucket list off in one day? Skydiving, race-car driving, and a possible one-night stand?
I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. My first thought is of Sydney. My second thought is that I can’t believe I fell asleep on the couch in the middle of the afternoon.
I barely slept last night, though. Actually, I’ve barely slept for the entire past week. I was so anxious leading up to the show I had planned for Sydney last night, not knowing how she would react to it. And then after she reacted better than I ever imagined and we ended up at her place, I still couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t stop texting Brennan lyrics. He’s probably got enough material from last night alone to make three songs out of.
When I left Sydney’s apartment this morning, my plan was to come home and catch up on work, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything because I was so exhausted. I finally lay down on the couch and turned on Game of Thrones. I’m probably the last person to start the series, but Warren has been trying to get me to catch up to him for months. He’s on season three, and I made it through the first three episodes of season one today before I passed out.
I wonder if Sydney has watched it. If not, I’d much rather start it over and watch it with her.
I pick up my phone and have two unread texts from Warren, one from Maggie, one from Brennan, and one from Sydney. I go straight to Sydney’s text first.
Sydney: I listened to the song. It made me cry. It’s really good, Ridge.
Ridge: I think you’re just partial because you’re in love with me.
She texts back immediately.
Sydney: Nope. I’d love the song even if I didn’t know you.
Ridge: You’re not good for my ego. What time will you be here?
Sydney: On my way now. Will Warren and Bridgette be there?
Ridge: Pretty sure they both work tonight.
Sydney: Perfect. See you soon.
I close out my texts to Sydney and open Warren’s text.
Warren: Brennan sent me the new song. I like it.
Ridge: Thanks. Started Game of Thrones today. I like it.
Warren: IT’S ABOUT DAMN TIME! Have you made it to the episode where they decapitate Stark in front of his daughters yet?
I press my phone to my chest and close my eyes. I hate him sometimes. Like really hate him.
Ridge: You are a fucking asshole.
Warren: Dude, it’s the best episode!
I toss my phone on the coffee table and stand up. I walk to the kitchen and open the refrigerator to search for a way to get revenge on him. I hope Warren is kidding. Ned Stark? Really, George?
There’s a block of one of Bridgette’s fancy cheeses in the drawer. I pull it out and open the packaging. It’s some sort of white cheese with fancy pieces of spinach or something in it. Smells like shit, but it looks just like a bar of soap once the wrapping is removed. I take it to Warren’s bathroom, remove his bar of soap from the shower and replace it with the cheese.
Ned gets decapitated? I swear to God, if that actually happens, I’m throwing away my television.
When I walk back to the living room, my phone is lighting up on the coffee table. It’s a text from Sydney, telling me she just parked. I walk to the door and open it, then make my way down the stairs. She’s making her way up, and as soon as I see the smile on her face, it makes me forget all about the decapitation I’m praying is a just a terrible prank Warren is pulling on me.
We meet in the middle of the staircase. She laughs at my eagerness when I push her against the railing and kiss her.
God, I love her. I swear, I don’t know what I’d have done if she hadn’t signed “when” last night. I’m sure I’d still be sitting on that stage, playing every sad song I could think of while I drank every last drop of alcohol in the bar.
But not only did the worst-case scenario not happen—the best-case scenario happened. She loved it and she loves me and here we are, together, about to spend a perfect boring night at my apartment doing nothing but eating takeout and watching television.
I pull away from her, and she reaches up to wipe lip gloss off my mouth.
“Have you ever watched Game of Thrones?” I ask her.
She shakes her head.
“Do you want to?”
She nods. I grab her hand and walk up the stairs with her. When we get inside, she goes to use the bathroom and I pick up my phone. I open the unread text from Maggie.
Maggie: Yes! Found out yesterday. Got a 5.
Ridge: Why am I not surprised? Congratulations! Hope you’re doing something to celebrate.
Maggie: I did. Went skydiving today.
Skydiving? I hope she’s kidding. Skydiving is the last thing she should be doing. That can’t be good for her lungs. I start to respond to her, but I pause in the middle of my text. This is the one thing she disliked the most about me. My constant worrying. I have to stop stressing about her doing things that might make her situation worse. It’s her life and she deserves to live it however she wants.
I delete my response to her. When I look up from my phone, Sydney is standing at the refrigerator, watching me. “You okay?” she asks.
I stand up straight and slide my phone into my pocket. I don’t want to talk about Maggie right now, so I smile and save it for another day. “Come here,” I say to her.
She smiles and walks over to me, sliding her arms around my waist. I pull her to me. “How was your day?”
She grins. “Excellent. My boyfriend wrote me a song.”
I press my lips to her forehead, then hook my thumb beneath her chin, tilting her face up to mine. As soon as I start to kiss her, she grabs my shirt and starts walking backward toward my bedroom. We don’t break the kiss until she’s falling onto my bed and I’m climbing on top of her.
We kiss for several minutes with our clothes on, which I would rectify, but it’s nice. We didn’t really fall in love in a typical way, so we went from a kiss that filled us with weeks of guilt, to a three-month stretch of not communicating at all, to a night of making up and making love. We were nothing at all and then suddenly all in. It’s nice taking it slow right now. I want to spend the rest of the night kissing her because I’ve thought about kissing her like this for three months straight.
She rolls me onto my back and then slides on top of me, breaking our kiss. Her hair is falling around her face, so she moves it out of the way by sliding it over her shoulder. She kisses me softly on the mouth and then sits up, straddling me so she can sign.
“Yes.”
He pops the hood with his key fob and then steps next to me to open it. There’s nothing but an empty trunk inside, lined with carpet. No engine. No transmission. There’s just…nothing.
“So there’s no engine at all in these cars? You never have to fill up with gas?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. There’s not even oil that needs changing. Only upkeep is the brakes and tires, really.”
“How do you keep it charged?”
“I have a charger in my garage.”
“You just plug it up at night like you’re charging a phone?”
“Basically.”
I turn back toward the car, admiring it. I can’t believe I get to ride in a Tesla tonight. I’ve been wanting to ride in one for two years. If I had updated my bucket list at all in the past few years, this would definitely be something I’d be crossing off it tonight.
“They’re really good for the environment,” he says, leaning against the hood. “No emissions.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah, that’s nice. But how fast does it go?”
He laughs and crosses his feet at the ankles. His voice is intentionally low and sexy when he raises a brow and says, “Zero to sixty…in 2.5 seconds.”
“Oh, my God.”
He nods at the car. “You want to drive it?”
I glance at the car and then back at him. “Really?”
His smile is sweet. “Actually…let me make a phone call,” he says, pulling out his phone. “I might can get us in over at Harris Hill.”
“What’s Harris Hill?”
He raises the phone to his ear. “A public racetrack in San Marcos.”
I cover my mouth with my hand, trying to hide my excitement. What are the chances that I’ll mark a third of my bucket list off in one day? Skydiving, race-car driving, and a possible one-night stand?
I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. My first thought is of Sydney. My second thought is that I can’t believe I fell asleep on the couch in the middle of the afternoon.
I barely slept last night, though. Actually, I’ve barely slept for the entire past week. I was so anxious leading up to the show I had planned for Sydney last night, not knowing how she would react to it. And then after she reacted better than I ever imagined and we ended up at her place, I still couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t stop texting Brennan lyrics. He’s probably got enough material from last night alone to make three songs out of.
When I left Sydney’s apartment this morning, my plan was to come home and catch up on work, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything because I was so exhausted. I finally lay down on the couch and turned on Game of Thrones. I’m probably the last person to start the series, but Warren has been trying to get me to catch up to him for months. He’s on season three, and I made it through the first three episodes of season one today before I passed out.
I wonder if Sydney has watched it. If not, I’d much rather start it over and watch it with her.
I pick up my phone and have two unread texts from Warren, one from Maggie, one from Brennan, and one from Sydney. I go straight to Sydney’s text first.
Sydney: I listened to the song. It made me cry. It’s really good, Ridge.
Ridge: I think you’re just partial because you’re in love with me.
She texts back immediately.
Sydney: Nope. I’d love the song even if I didn’t know you.
Ridge: You’re not good for my ego. What time will you be here?
Sydney: On my way now. Will Warren and Bridgette be there?
Ridge: Pretty sure they both work tonight.
Sydney: Perfect. See you soon.
I close out my texts to Sydney and open Warren’s text.
Warren: Brennan sent me the new song. I like it.
Ridge: Thanks. Started Game of Thrones today. I like it.
Warren: IT’S ABOUT DAMN TIME! Have you made it to the episode where they decapitate Stark in front of his daughters yet?
I press my phone to my chest and close my eyes. I hate him sometimes. Like really hate him.
Ridge: You are a fucking asshole.
Warren: Dude, it’s the best episode!
I toss my phone on the coffee table and stand up. I walk to the kitchen and open the refrigerator to search for a way to get revenge on him. I hope Warren is kidding. Ned Stark? Really, George?
There’s a block of one of Bridgette’s fancy cheeses in the drawer. I pull it out and open the packaging. It’s some sort of white cheese with fancy pieces of spinach or something in it. Smells like shit, but it looks just like a bar of soap once the wrapping is removed. I take it to Warren’s bathroom, remove his bar of soap from the shower and replace it with the cheese.
Ned gets decapitated? I swear to God, if that actually happens, I’m throwing away my television.
When I walk back to the living room, my phone is lighting up on the coffee table. It’s a text from Sydney, telling me she just parked. I walk to the door and open it, then make my way down the stairs. She’s making her way up, and as soon as I see the smile on her face, it makes me forget all about the decapitation I’m praying is a just a terrible prank Warren is pulling on me.
We meet in the middle of the staircase. She laughs at my eagerness when I push her against the railing and kiss her.
God, I love her. I swear, I don’t know what I’d have done if she hadn’t signed “when” last night. I’m sure I’d still be sitting on that stage, playing every sad song I could think of while I drank every last drop of alcohol in the bar.
But not only did the worst-case scenario not happen—the best-case scenario happened. She loved it and she loves me and here we are, together, about to spend a perfect boring night at my apartment doing nothing but eating takeout and watching television.
I pull away from her, and she reaches up to wipe lip gloss off my mouth.
“Have you ever watched Game of Thrones?” I ask her.
She shakes her head.
“Do you want to?”
She nods. I grab her hand and walk up the stairs with her. When we get inside, she goes to use the bathroom and I pick up my phone. I open the unread text from Maggie.
Maggie: Yes! Found out yesterday. Got a 5.
Ridge: Why am I not surprised? Congratulations! Hope you’re doing something to celebrate.
Maggie: I did. Went skydiving today.
Skydiving? I hope she’s kidding. Skydiving is the last thing she should be doing. That can’t be good for her lungs. I start to respond to her, but I pause in the middle of my text. This is the one thing she disliked the most about me. My constant worrying. I have to stop stressing about her doing things that might make her situation worse. It’s her life and she deserves to live it however she wants.
I delete my response to her. When I look up from my phone, Sydney is standing at the refrigerator, watching me. “You okay?” she asks.
I stand up straight and slide my phone into my pocket. I don’t want to talk about Maggie right now, so I smile and save it for another day. “Come here,” I say to her.
She smiles and walks over to me, sliding her arms around my waist. I pull her to me. “How was your day?”
She grins. “Excellent. My boyfriend wrote me a song.”
I press my lips to her forehead, then hook my thumb beneath her chin, tilting her face up to mine. As soon as I start to kiss her, she grabs my shirt and starts walking backward toward my bedroom. We don’t break the kiss until she’s falling onto my bed and I’m climbing on top of her.
We kiss for several minutes with our clothes on, which I would rectify, but it’s nice. We didn’t really fall in love in a typical way, so we went from a kiss that filled us with weeks of guilt, to a three-month stretch of not communicating at all, to a night of making up and making love. We were nothing at all and then suddenly all in. It’s nice taking it slow right now. I want to spend the rest of the night kissing her because I’ve thought about kissing her like this for three months straight.
She rolls me onto my back and then slides on top of me, breaking our kiss. Her hair is falling around her face, so she moves it out of the way by sliding it over her shoulder. She kisses me softly on the mouth and then sits up, straddling me so she can sign.
