Maybe Now
Page 57

 Colleen Hoover

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“I’m glad you didn’t say no, because I’m already here.”
I laugh. My heartbeat is erratic. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here, but I couldn’t be happier to see him right now. He kisses me, and it somehow makes this day even better.
I can’t even stand myself right now. I don’t recall ever being this in love with my life before today, and I don’t know how to get used to this new version of myself. I got so used to being so full of gloom for so long, it’s like I’m discovering a part of me that didn’t exist before this month.
Or maybe it always existed…I just never had anyone who could pull out the best parts of me like Ridge does.
I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him. His hands cradle my cheeks and he kisses me back, walking me until my back meets the counter. We kiss for a good minute before I recognize that my entire apartment smells like a restaurant. I pull away from him and turn around to find dinner prepared on the stove. When I look back at Ridge, he’s smiling at me. “Surprise. I cooked.”
“What’s the special occasion?”
“There doesn’t need to be a special occasion for me to want to make you happy. I’ll be treating you like this for the rest of your life.”
I like the sound of that.
Ridge leans in and plants quick kisses down my neck before pulling away and walking to the stove. “It’ll be ready in five minutes if you want to change.”
I smile on my way to my bedroom. He knows me too well. He knows that no matter what time of day it is, as soon as I walk through the door, I like to be comfortable. That means getting rid of my bra the minute I get home. It means getting out of my jeans and pulling on a pair of pajama pants and one of his T-shirts. It means pulling my hair up in a knot and having absolutely zero care about anything but being as comfortable as I can possibly be.
I love that he loves that about me.
When I walk back into the kitchen, he’s setting the table. He made baked chicken and vegetables with a side of risotto. I honestly don’t know that my kitchen has ever experienced this kind of meal before. I rarely cook full meals because it’s just me. Sometimes Ridge and me. But it’s rare that we go all out and do something as drastic as use the oven. Microwave, sure. Stovetop, maybe. But oven means a serious meal, and we haven’t had much time for that. I sign and tell him it looks delicious, and then proceed to eat half of it without stopping. It tastes even better than it looks.
“Seriously, Ridge. It’s delicious.”
“Thank you.”
“I can’t cook like this.”
“Yes, you can. It just tastes better to you because you didn’t make it. That’s how cooking works.”
I laugh. Hopefully that’s true. “How was work today?”
He shrugs. “Played catch-up. But Brennan texted and said he needs me to play a show with him because they’re short a guitarist next weekend.”
“Where at?”
“Dallas. You want to come? Make a weekend of it?”
I nod. Watching Ridge on stage is my favorite thing. “Absolutely. Will Sadie be there?”
Ridge gives me a look to let me know he doesn’t know who I’m talking about.
“Sadie the singer,” I clarify. “The girl who started opening for Brennan. I think he likes her.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m sure she will be.” He grins. “That should be interesting.”
From what I’ve learned about Brennan, he doesn’t get crushes on girls very often, which makes me invested in seeing how this turns out. I hope I get to meet her.
That thought leads me to my next thought. I can’t visit Dallas without stopping to see my parents. “Since we’ll be in Dallas…do you want to have dinner with my parents?”
Ridge answers immediately. “I would love to meet your parents, Sydney.”
I don’t know why, but that sentence made my heart melt a little. I smile and take a drink.
“Have you told your parents about me?” he asks.
“I told my mother I have a boyfriend. She asked me twenty questions.”
He grins. “Only twenty?”
“Maybe twenty-five.”
“What did you say? How did you describe me?”
“I said you’re very talented. And very cute. And good at pranks. And good in bed.”
Ridge laughs. “I’m sure you did.” He leans back in his chair, casually bumping my knee with his. He’s staring at his plate, scooting around the rest of his risotto. “Did you tell them I’m deaf?”
I didn’t tell them, but for no other reason than it just didn’t come up, and I honestly didn’t think about it. “Should I have?”
Ridge shrugs. “Might be worth mentioning. I don’t like to catch people off guard if I can avoid it. I like for them to have a heads up.”
“You didn’t give me a heads up.”
“It was different with you.”
“How?”
He tilts his head and contemplates his answer. Then he picks up his phone, which means he wants to explain something that he feels he can get across better in text than if he were to verbalize.
Ridge: In most cases, I like to warn people before we meet. It makes for less of an uncomfortable moment when they find out. I didn’t warn you because it felt like…I don’t know. It was just different with you.
Sydney: A good different?
Ridge: The best kind of different there can possibly be. My whole life I’ve been the deaf guy. It comes first with every person I ever meet. Being deaf and how a person will react to that is my first thought in every new conversation I have. It’s most likely the first thought of the person I’m having the conversation with. It defines how they treat me, how they react to me, and how I react to them. But with you, I sometimes forget that part of myself. With you, I forget the one thing that defines me to everyone else. With you…I’m just me.
I’m glad he texted all that, because it’s one more thing he’s said to me that I want to keep track of and remember forever.
“My parents are going to love you just as much as I do.”
Ridge smiles for a moment, but the smile is fleeting. He tries to hide it as he reaches for his drink, but I saw the split-second conflict in his eyes. It makes me wonder if he’s only agreeing to meet them to appease me. What if he isn’t ready to take that step? It’s not like we’ve been dating long at all.
“You okay?” I sign.
He nods, reaching for my hand. He rests his on top of it on the table, brushing his thumb across it. “I’m good,” he says. “It’s just that sometimes you make me wish I had better parents. Parents who could meet you and know you’re perfect for me. Parents who could love you.”
His words make my heart ache for him. “You have Brennan. He loves that you’re happy.”
“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “And Warren.”
“And Bridgette.”
Ridge makes a face. “Oddly enough.”
“Right? I really like her,” I say with a laugh. “If someone would have told me six months ago that me and Bridgette would eventually be good friends, I would have bet my life savings against it. It’s only five hundred dollars, but still.”
Ridge laughs. “If you would have told me six months ago that me and you would be dating and spending an entire day helping Maggie move into my complex, I would have bet your life savings against it, too.”
“Life is strange, isn’t it?”
Ridge nods. “Beautifully strange.”
I smile at him, and we finish eating in comfortable silence. I clear the table and load the dishes into the dishwasher. Ridge hooks his phone up to the Bluetooth on my stereo and turns on one of my Spotify playlists.
This is how I know he truly loves me. He does things that don’t have an impact on him at all, like making sure there’s always music playing, even though he can’t hear it. He knows I like it, so he does it to make me happy. It reminds me of the first time he did this. We were in his car, driving home from the club, and he turned on his car radio for me.
It’s the small things people do for others that define the largest parts of them.