The second I’m finished writing, I’m so worked up I don’t allow myself to witness her reaction to the words. I quickly hand her back the notebook and pull my guitar around and begin playing so she can work through the chorus.
Chapter Fourteen
Sydney
He’s not looking at me. He doesn’t even know I’m not singing the lyrics. I can’t sing them. I’ve listened to him play this song dozens of times from his balcony, yet it never held emotion or meaning until this moment.
The fact that he can’t even look at me makes the song feel way too personal. It feels as if this song somehow just became his song to me. I turn the notebook over, not wanting to read the words anymore. This song is just one more thing that never should have happened, even though I’m positive it’s my new favorite.
Me: Do you think Brennan can make a rough cut of this one? I want to hear it.
I nudge him with my foot after I send the text, then nod toward his phone when he looks at me. He picks it up to read the text and nods. He doesn’t reply or make eye contact with me, though. I glance back down to my phone as the room grows quiet in the absence of the sound of his guitar. I don’t like how awkward things just got between us, so I attempt to make small talk to fill the void. I roll onto my back and type out a question that’s been on my mind for a while to break up the stillness around us.
Me: Why don’t you ever practice on your balcony like you used to?
This question gets me immediate eye contact from him, but it doesn’t last. His eyes flicker across my face, down my body, and finally back to his phone.
Ridge: Why would I? You’re not out there anymore.
And just like that, my defenses are down, and my willpower is shot to hell with his honest reply. I nervously pull my bottom lip in and chew on it, then slowly raise my eyes back to his. He’s looking at me as if he wishes he were a guy like Hunter who cared only about himself.
He’s not the only one wishing that.
I want to be Tori right now so much it hurts. I want to be just like her and not give a shit about my self-respect or about Maggie for just a few minutes. Long enough to allow him to do everything his lyrics make clear he wants to do.
His eyes fall to my lips, and my mouth runs dry.
His eyes fall to my chest, and it begins to heave deeper than it already was.
His eyes fall to my legs, and I have to cross them, because the way his gaze penetrates my body makes it seem as though he can see right through this dress I’m wearing.
His eyes close tightly, and knowing the effect I’m having on him makes me feel as if there might be a lot more truth to his lyrics than he’d like there to be.
It’s making me feel like I want to be the only man that you ever see.
Ridge suddenly stands and drops his phone onto the bed, then walks straight into the bathroom and slams the door. I listen as the shower curtain slides open and the water kicks on.
I roll onto my back and release all my pent-up breaths. I’m flustered and confused and angry. I don’t like the situation we’ve put ourselves in, and I know for a fact that even though we haven’t acted on it again, nothing about this is innocent.
I sit up on the bed, then quickly stand. I need to get out of his room before it completely closes in on me. Just as I’m walking away from the bed, Ridge’s phone vibrates on the mattress. I look down at it.
Maggie: I’m missing you extra hard today. When you’re finished writing with Sydney, can we video chat? I need to see you. ;） I stare at her text.
I hate her text.
I hate that she knows we were just writing together.
I hate that he tells her everything.