“Listen up, Syd,” he says, walking toward the kitchen. He grabs a bar stool and pulls it out, then takes a seat. “I’m about to lay things out for you, okay?”
I roll my eyes. “I doubt I can stop you, so go ahead.”
He lays his palms flat on the counter in front of him and leans forward. “You suck.”
I laugh. “That’s it? That’s what you needed to lay out for me?”
He nods. “You suck. So does Ridge. Since the night I gave him your address, you’ve both sucked. All he does is work or write music. He doesn’t even play pranks on me anymore. Every time I’m over here, you’re just focused on studying. You never want to go out. You never want to hear my sex stories anymore.”
“Correction,” I say, interrupting him. “I’ve never wanted to hear your sex stories. That’s nothing new.”
“Whatever,” he says, shaking his head. “My point is that the two of you are miserable. I know you need time and blah, blah, blah, but that doesn’t mean you have to give up fun while you’re figuring your life out. I want to go have fun. No one wants to have fun with me anymore, and that’s all your fault, because you’re the only one who can put a stop to the misery you and Ridge are going through. So, yes. You suck. You suck, you suck, you suck. And if you want to stop sucking so much, then go get dressed so we can go out and not suck together for just a few hours.”
I don’t know how to argue with that. I do suck. I suck, I suck, I suck. Only Warren could put it in such a simple, straightforward way that would actually make sense. I know I’ve been miserable the past few months, and it doesn’t help to know that Ridge has been miserable, too. He’s miserable because he’s sitting around waiting for me to get over whatever it is that’s keeping me from contacting him.
The last thing he said in his letter to me was Just say when.
I’ve been trying to say when since the moment I read that letter, but I’m just too scared. I’ve never felt about anyone or anything the way I feel about him, and the thought of our not working out is enough to keep me from saying that one little word. I feel as if the longer we wait and the more time we have to heal, the better chance we’ll have at our maybe someday.
I keep waiting for the moment when I know for sure that he’s moved on from Maggie. I keep waiting for the moment when I know for sure that he’s ready to commit fully to me. I keep waiting for the moment when I know for sure that I’m not going to be consumed with guilt for allowing myself to trust someone with my heart again.
I don’t know when I’ll get to that point, and it hurts to know that my inability to move forward is holding Ridge back.
“Now,” Warren says, shoving me out of the kitchen. “Get dressed.”
? ? ?
I can’t believe I’ve let him talk me into this. I check my makeup one last time and grab my purse. As soon as he sees me, he shakes his head. I huff and throw my hands in the air.
“What now?” I sigh. “I’m not dressed appropriately?”
“You look great, but I want you to wear the blue dress.”
“I burned that dress, remember?” I say.
“The hell you did,” he says, pushing me back toward my bedroom. “You were wearing it last week when I stopped by. Go put it on so we can leave.”
I spin around to face him. “I know how much you like that dress, and wearing it tonight while I’m out with you is a little too creepy, Warren.”
He narrows his eyes. “Listen, Syd. I don’t mean to be rude, but all this moping around for the past few months has caused you to put on a little weight. Your ass looks huge in those jeans. The blue dress may be able to hide a little of that, so go put it on, or I might be too embarrassed to go out with you.”