Warren brushes off Brennan’s comment with a flippant wave in my direction. “Sydney’s cool. She’s not a PSYCHOTIC JEALOUS GIRLFRIEND LIKE SOME PEOPLE!” he yells toward his bedroom.
Two seconds later, Bridgette swings open the door and says, “I’m not your girlfriend. I broke up with you.”
Warren looks offended. And confused. He holds up his hands. “When?”
“Right now,” Bridgette says. “I’m breaking up with you right now, asshole.” She slams the door, and sadly, no one really pays it much attention. Some things haven’t changed a bit around here. Warren doesn’t even get up from the couch to chase after her.
I feel my phone vibrate, so I look at the text.
Ridge: Hi.
I glance over at him, and he’s sitting on the bar now, next to Brennan. They’re both swinging their legs, seated the same way, and Ridge looks completely adorable as he smiles at me. The looks he gives me are intoxicating. He motions for me to come stand with him, so I walk over to him. He spreads his legs wider, turning me until my back is against his chest. He kisses me on the side of my head and wraps his arms around my shoulders.
“Hey, Sydney,” Brennan says. “Did Ridge play you the song Price wrote?”
I glance at Price and then back at Brennan. “No, which one is it?”
Brennan signs for Ridge to play me the song, so Ridge holds his phone in front of me and searches his files.
“Even If Your Back Was Turned,” Price says from the couch.
“We just recorded it last week,” Brennan says. “I like it. I think it’ll do well. Price wrote it for his mommy.”
Price throws a pillow in Brennan’s direction. “Fuck you,” he says. He looks at me and shrugs. “I am a momma’s boy.”
I laugh, because he doesn’t look like your typical momma’s boy.
Ridge finds the song and presses play. He sets the phone on his thigh and then wraps his arms around me again as I listen. Almost as soon as it starts to play, the text notification goes off on Ridge’s phone. I look down at it.
Maggie: Guess what? I’m finally riding in a TESLA!!!
Ridge must see the text as soon as I hear it and read it, because his legs stop swinging and he stiffens. We’re both looking at the phone, and I know he’s waiting on my reaction, but I don’t know how I should react. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be feeling right now. It’s just all too weird. I reach over and swipe up on her text so it’ll disappear. Then I pause the song and say to Price, “I’ll listen to it later. It’s too loud in here.”
Ridge wraps his arm tighter around my waist as he picks up his phone and begins texting with one hand. I don’t know if he’s responding to her or not, but I guess it’s not my business. Is it? I don’t even know if I should be mad. I don’t think I’m mad. Confused is a better word for it. Or maybe uncomfortable is the best way to describe what I’m feeling.
Ridge pulls on my hand so I’ll turn and look at him. I’m still standing between his legs, but this time I’m facing him, looking at him, trying not to let him read my thoughts. He puts his phone in my hand, and when I look at it to read whatever he’s written in his note app, he lowers his forehead to mine.
She’s my friend, Sydney. We text sometimes.
As I’m reading the note on his phone, his hands are sliding softly down my arms in a comforting gesture. It’s amazing how much more he can communicate non-verbally as a result of being so stifled by his verbal communication. By pressing his forehead to mine as I read what he typed, it’s as if he’s silently saying, “We’re a team, Sydney. You and me.”
And the way he’s sliding his hands down my arms is equivalent to a thousand verbal reassurances.
I expected that he still talks to Maggie. What I didn’t expect was for it to bother me like it is. But it’s not because I think Ridge and Maggie are in the wrong. It’s because I feel like I’ll always be the girl who came between them, no matter how friendly they remain. I can be friendly with every single friend Ridge ever has, but I’m not sure I could ever be friends with Maggie, so the fact that he is friends with her makes me feel like a third-wheel to that friendship.
It’s a strange feeling. And one I don’t like, so I can’t help but have a noticeable reaction. Especially to Ridge. He notices every non-verbal reaction I have because that’s the focus of his communication.
I hand Ridge’s phone back to him and force a smile, but I know my feelings are probably written all over my face. He pulls me in for a reassuring hug and then kisses the side of my head. I press my face against his neck and sigh.