I don’t know if he’s telling the truth, but the fact that he claims he’s been out of town eases my fear that he hasn’t been out on his balcony because of me.
Me: Everything okay?
Ridge: Yep.
Me: Good.
Ridge: I’m only going to say this once, Sydney. Are you ready?
Me: Oh, God. No. I’m turning off my phone.
Ridge: I know where you live.
Me: Fine.
Ridge: You’re incredible. Those lyrics. I can’t even describe to you how perfect they are for the song. How in the hell does that come out of you? And why can’t you see that you need to LET it come out of you? Don’t hold it in. You’re doing the world a huge disservice with your modesty. I know I agreed not to ask you for more, but that was because I really didn’t expect to get what I got from you. I need more. Give me, give me, give me.
I let out a huge breath. Until this moment, I didn’t realize exactly how much his opinion mattered. I can’t look up at him yet. I continue to stare at my phone for much longer than it takes me to read the text. I don’t even text him back, because I’m still relishing the compliment. If he said he loved it, I would have accepted his opinion with relief, and I would have moved on. But the words he just texted were like stairs stacked one on top of the other, and each compliment was like me running up each step until I reached the top of the damn world.
Holy crap. I think this one text just gave me enough confidence to send him another song. I never would have predicted this. I never imagined I would be excited.
“Food’s here,” Tori says. “You want to eat out here?”
I tear my gaze away from the phone and look at her. “Uh. Yeah. Sure.”
Tori brings the food out to the balcony. “I’ve never really looked at that guy before, but damn,” she says, staring hard at Ridge while he plays his guitar. “He’s really hot, and I don’t even like blonds.”
“His hair isn’t blond. It’s brown.”
“No, that’s blond,” she says. “But it’s dark blond, so that’s okay, I guess. Almost brown, maybe. I like the messy shag, and that body makes up for the fact that his hair isn’t black.” Tori takes a drink and leans back in her chair, still staring at him. “Maybe I’m being too picky. What do I care what color his hair is? It’ll be dark when I have my hands in it, anyway.”
I shake my head. “He’s really talented,” I say. I still haven’t responded to his text, but he doesn’t seem to be waiting around. He’s watching his hands as he plays, not paying a bit of attention to us.
“I wonder if he’s single,” Tori says. “I’d like to see what other talents he has.”
I have no idea if he’s single, but the way Tori is thinking about him makes my stomach turn. Tori is incredibly cute, and I know she could find out if he had other talents if she really wanted to. She tends to get whomever she wants in the guy department. I’ve never really minded until now.
“You don’t want to be involved with a musician,” I say, as if I have any experience that would qualify me to give her advice. “Besides, I’m pretty sure Ridge does have a girlfriend. I saw a girl on his patio with him a few weeks ago.” That’s technically not a lie. I did see one once.
Tori glances at me. “You know his name? How do you know his name?”
I shrug as if it’s no big deal. Because, honestly, it is no big deal. “He needed help with lyrics last week, so I texted him some.”
She sits up in her chair. “You know his phone number?”