We’re watching the fourth video when the food arrives. We all make our plates and sit around the table. It’s the first meal Ridge and I have eaten together as a couple. He’s sitting right next to me with his left hand on my thigh. We’ve eaten a lot of meals at this table together while forcing ourselves to sit as far apart from each other as we possibly could. It feels good to finally be able to touch him—sit close to him—and not fight everything inside me that was growing.
I like this.
The door to the bathroom between Warren and Bridgette’s old bedroom swings open. Bridgette is standing in a towel, sopping wet from the shower. Her eyes scan the table until she finds Warren, and then she tosses something at him, hitting him in the chest. Whatever it is falls onto his plate. Then the door slams.
Everyone looks at Warren. He picks up the block of whatever she just threw at him and stares at it for a second. Then he sniffs it. His head slowly turns toward Ridge.
“Cheese? You put cheese in my shower?”
I look at Ridge, and he’s attempting to force back a smile.
Warren sniffs the cheese again and then takes a small bite of it. I cover my mouth with my hand, trying not to gag. Does he not realize that Bridgette had to rub that block of cheese on some part of her body before realizing it wasn’t soap?
Warren sets the cheese on his plate like he just received a free course with his meal.
As disgusting as some of them are, I’ve missed their pranks so much. I squeeze Ridge’s leg to let him know that was a clever one.
When we finish eating, I text Ridge and tell him I should go. I have an early day tomorrow, and it’ll be after ten by the time I get home. I tell all the guys goodbye, and Ridge walks me down. When we reach my car, he opens my door but doesn’t kiss me goodbye. He waits for me to sit, and then he walks around to the passenger side and takes a seat.
He grabs my phone that I just placed in the console and hands it to me.
Ridge: You okay?
I nod, but he doesn’t look convinced. I don’t know how to say, “Stop having friends!” without feeling a little like Bridgette.
Ridge: Does it bother you?
He doesn’t even have to specify what he’s talking about. We both know. And I don’t know how to answer him. I don’t want to be that jealous girlfriend who takes issue with every single thing, but how can I not be jealous when there’s still a part of me that’s envious of Maggie?
Ridge: Please be honest, Syd. I want to know what you’re thinking.
I sigh, thankful he cares enough to talk about it but also wishing we could brush it under the rug at the same time.
Sydney: It’s uncomfortable. It bothered me that you seemed so worried about her. But it would also bother me if you didn’t care. So, it’s just…weird. It’s going to take time to get used to, I guess.
Ridge: I do worry about her. And I care about her. But I am not in love with her, Sydney. I’m in love with you.
When I finish reading his text, he leans across the seat and takes my face in his hands. “I love you.”
The sincerity in his expression makes me smile. “I know you do. I love you, too.”
He stares at me for a moment, searching for any remaining doubt in my expression. Then he kisses me goodnight. When he gets out of the car, he takes the stairs two at a time. He reaches the top and texts me again.
Ridge: Let me know when you make it home safe. And thank you.
Ridge: For being you.
When I look up, he smiles and then disappears inside his apartment. I watch his door for a moment and then drop my phone in my purse, just as someone knocks on my window. I jump and press my hand to my chest. When I look out my window, I roll my eyes.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Hunter is standing at my driver’s side window, looking at me expectantly. I forgot he even frequented this apartment complex. I guess that means he’s still with Tori. I stare at him for a moment and feel absolutely nothing. Not even anger.
I put my car in reverse and back up, pulling away from the complex without looking back. The only way to look now is forward.
???
Ridge: You asleep?
I look at the time stamp on his text. He just sent the message two minutes ago. I pull the towel off my head and run my fingers through my hair before I text him back.
Sydney: Nope. Just got out of the shower.
Ridge: Oh, yeah? So you’re naked?
Sydney: I have a towel on. And no, you aren’t getting a pic.
Ridge: I don’t want a pic. I want you to open your front door and let me in.
I glance toward the living room, then look back down at my phone. He’s here? I only left his apartment an hour ago. I rush to the living room with worry in the pit of my stomach. I hope nothing is wrong. Surely Hunter didn’t do anything stupid after I pulled away.