After the first few lines, I find a steadiness to my voice. I close my eyes and do my best to imagine I’m simply sitting up on his bed right now the way I have been for the last hour.
I’ll bring my suitcase
You bring that old map
We can live by the book
Or we can never go back
Feeling the breeze
Never felt so right
We’ll watch the stars
Until they fade into light
We can have everything we ever wanted
And just a little bit more
Just a little bit more
He finishes the last chord but doesn’t move. His hands remain stilled on his guitar. His ear remains firmly pressed against my chest. My breaths are heavier now that I’ve just sung an entire song, and his head rises with each intake of air.
He sighs a deep sigh, then lifts his head and rolls onto his back without making eye contact with me. We lie in silence for a few minutes. I’m not sure why he’s being so unresponsive, but I’m too nervous to make any sudden movements. His arm is still underneath me, and he’s making no effort to remove it, so I’m not even sure if he’s finished with this little experiment yet.
I’m also not sure I’d even be able to move.
Sydney, Sydney, Sydney. What are you doing?
I absolutely, positively, do not want to be having this reaction right now. It’s been a week since I broke up with Hunter. The very last thing I want—or even need—is to develop a crush on this guy.
However, I’m thinking that may have happened before this week.
Crap.
I tilt my head and look at him. He’s watching me, but I can’t tell what his face is trying to convey. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s thinking, Oh, hey, Sydney. Our mouths sure are close together. Let’s do them a favor and close this gap.
His eyes drop to my mouth, and I’m incredibly impressed with my telepathic abilities. His full lips are slightly parted as he quietly takes in several slow, deep breaths.
I can actually hear him breathing, which surprises me, because that’s another of his sounds that he keeps complete and total control over. I like that he can’t seem to control it right now. As much as I claim to want to be unattached from guys and independent and strong, the only thing I’m thinking is how much I wish he would take complete and total control over me. I want him to dominate this situation by rolling on top of me and forcing that incredible mouth onto mine, rendering me completely dependent on him for breath.
My phone receives a text, interrupting my clearly overactive imagination. Ridge closes his eyes and turns to face the opposite direction. I sigh, knowing he didn’t even hear the text, so turning away was of his own accord. Which means I’m feeling pretty awkward right now for just having that rich internal dialogue sweep through my mind. I reach behind my head and feel around until I find my phone.
Hunter: Are you ready to talk yet?
I roll my eyes. Way to ruin the moment, Hunter. I was hoping that after days of avoiding his texts and phone calls, he would finally get a clue. I shake my head and text him back.
Me: Your behavior is bordering on harassment. Stop contacting me. We’re done.
Ridge
Stop with the guilt trip, Ridge. You didn’t do anything wrong. You aren’t doing anything wrong. Your heart is beating like this simply because you’ve never felt anyone sing before. It was overwhelming. You had a normal reaction to an overwhelming event. That’s all.
My eyes are still closed, and my arm is still underneath her. I should move it, but I’m still trying to recover.