I lean my head back against the headboard and squeeze my eyes shut, long enough to force back the tears once more.
Ridge: You feel like what?
Me: I feel like you almost made me a Tori. I absolutely would have kissed you last night, and the fact that I didn’t know you were involved with someone would have made me a Tori. I don’t want to be a Tori, Ridge. I can’t tell you how much their betrayal hurts me, and I will never, ever do that to another girl. So that’s why I’m upset. I don’t even know Maggie, yet you made me feel like I’ve already betrayed her. And as innocent as you may be, I’m blaming you for that one.
Ridge finishes reading my message, then calmly lies back on the bed. He brings his palms to his forehead and inhales a deep breath. We both remain still as we think about the situation. After several quiet minutes, he sits back up.
Ridge: I don’t even know what to say right now other than I’m sorry. You’re right. Even though I thought you knew about Maggie, I can absolutely see what you’re saying. But I also need you to know that I would never do something like that to her. Granted, what happened between us last night is not something I would ever want Maggie to see, but that’s mostly because Maggie doesn’t understand the process of writing music. It’s a very intimate thing, and because I can’t hear, I do have to use my hands or my ears to understand things that come naturally to others. That’s all it was. I wasn’t trying to cause anything to happen between us. I was just curious. I was intrigued. And I was wrong.
Me: I understand. I never thought for a second that your intentions weren’t genuine when you asked me to sing for you. Everything just happened so fast earlier, and I was still trying to recover from the fact that I woke up in your bed and the lights were flickering. Then you go and flash the word “girlfriend” in my face. It’s a lot to process. And I believe you when you say you thought I knew about her.
Ridge: Thank you.
Me: Just promise me one thing. Promise me you will never be a Hunter, and I will never, ever be a Tori.
Ridge: I promise. And that’s impossible, because we’re so much more talented than they are.
He glances up and smiles his smiley smile at me, which makes me automatically smile in return.
Me: Now, get out of here. I’m going back to sleep, because someone spent the whole night drooling on my boobs and snoring way too loud.
Ridge laughs, but before he leaves, he messages me one last time.
Ridge: I’m excited for you to meet her. I really think you’ll like her.
He closes his laptop, stands, and walks back to his room.
I close my laptop and pull the covers over my head.
I hate that my heart is wishing so bad that he didn’t have a girlfriend.
• • •
“No, she already moved in,” Bridgette says. Her cell phone is propped up on her shoulder, and from the sound of it, she just broke the news to her sister that I’ve taken the empty bedroom. Bridgette completely ignores that I’m even in the same room with her and continues talking about me.
I know the fact that I haven’t clarified that I’m not deaf is a little mean, but who is she to assume I can’t read lips?
“I don’t know; she’s a friend of Ridge’s. I should have ignored him when he asked if I would go—in the rain, mind you—and bring her up to the apartment. Apparently, her boyfriend dumped her, and she had nowhere else to go.”
She pulls a seat out at the bar and sits with her back facing me. She laughs at something the person on the other end of the line says. “Tell me about it. He seems to enjoy taking in strays, doesn’t he?”
I grip the remote in my hand and hold it tightly in an attempt to keep from hurling it at the back of her head.
“I told you not to ask about Warren,” she says with a sigh. “You know he irritates the hell out of me, but I just . . . dammit, I just can’t stay away.”
Wait. Did I just hear that correctly? Might Bridgette have . . . feelings?
She’s lucky I like Warren, or the remote would be greeting her pretty little head right now. She’s also lucky someone is knocking at the door loudly enough to distract me from hurting her.
Bridgette stands up and turns to face me, pointing at the front door. “SOMEONE’S . . . AT . . . THE . . . DOOR!” Rather than answer it, she walks to her bedroom and closes her door.
So hospitable, that one.
I stand and make my way to the front door, knowing it’s more than likely Maggie. I place my hand on the doorknob and inhale a steady breath.
Here we go.
I open the door, and standing in front of me is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever laid eyes on. Her hair is straight and jet-black, and it falls around two naturally tanned shoulders. Her face is smiling. Her whole, entire face is beaming. She’s nothing but a face full of beautiful white teeth, and they’re smiling at me, and it’s making me smile back, even though I really don’t want to.