“Spencer,” the tall brunette one says. He’s the drummer. I know this because I’ve seen them play. I’ve just never actually been introduced to them.
“Price,” the other one says, shaking my hand. He plays lead guitar and sings backup vocals, and while the star of the band is definitely Brennan, I think Price gives him a run for his money. He’s got the rockstar swagger down, even though their music isn’t typically rock. It’s got a more pop/alternative vibe. But he could probably pull off any sound because he’s so charismatic on stage. Brennan sometimes takes a step back and lets him shine.
“I’m Sydney,” I say, with a lot of forced confidence. “It’s so good to finally meet you guys. I’m a huge fan of the band.” I wave my arm across them and over to Brennan. “It’s so impressive how fast you guys get stuff recorded.”
Price laughs and says, “Sydney, we’re all huge fans of yours. Ridge went through a pretty long dry spell until you came along.”
My eyes widen and I look over at Ridge, who is looking at Brennan, who is signing everything everyone is saying. Ridge immediately looks back at me, and then at Price.
“Dry spell?” Ridge says out loud.
“Lyrical dry spell,” Price says, clarifying what he meant. “I meant lyrical.” Now Price looks embarrassed.
God, this is so awkward.
“I’m hungry,” Brennan says, slapping his hands on the bar on either side of him. “Has anyone eaten?”
“Chinese sounds good,” I suggest.
Brennan picks up his phone and looks at it. “A girl who knows what she wants. I like it.” He pulls the phone to his ear. “Chinese it is. I’ll just order a shit-ton of everything.”
I try not to stare at him too hard. I just can’t get over how much he looks like Ridge physically, but with a completely different personality. Ridge is responsible and mature, and Brennan seems like he doesn’t give a shit. About anything. It’s like he doesn’t have a single care, yet his older brother takes on the burden of caring about every single thing.
“So, Bridgette and I are fighting, if you didn’t notice,” Warren says, taking a seat on the couch and scrolling through his texts. He looks up at me. “She says I flirt with other people too much.”
I laugh. “You do.”
Warren rolls his eyes and mutters, “Traitor. You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“There are no sides when it’s a discussion of facts,” I say. “You flirt with me. You flirt with Bridgette. You flirt with the old lady who lives in my apartment building. Hell, you even flirt with her dog. You’re a flirt, Warren.”
“He flirts with me,” Spencer says.
Warren is still scrolling through his texts when he reads something that makes him pause. He laughs a little and then looks over at Ridge and Brennan. “Maggie went skydiving today.”
My breath catches at the mention of her name. Naturally, I look over at Ridge, who is leaning against the bar next to Brennan. Brennan covers his phone with his hand and says, “Good for her.”
Ridge just nods, expressionless, and says, “I know. She told me earlier.” He glances at me for a brief second and then looks down at his phone.
My mouth feels dry. I press my lips together. There was a moment earlier, when I came out of the bathroom and saw Ridge holding his phone with a torn expression. I had no idea what had caused him to react like he was. I assumed it was work.
But…it wasn’t work. It was Maggie. He was worried about Maggie.
I don’t like how I’m feeling right now. I pull my phone out of my pocket and try to busy myself, but I’m standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room. Brennan ends his call to the Chinese place, and Warren and Ridge are both looking at their phones. I suddenly feel out of place. Like I don’t belong in this living room with these people in this apartment. Brennan signs something to Ridge without speaking, and then they start a silent conversation with Warren that’s too fast for me to keep up with, which makes me think they don’t want me to know what they’re saying. I try to ignore them, but I can’t help but look when Warren says, “You worry too much, man.”
“Typical Ridge,” Brennan says. As soon as he says that, Brennan looks at me and then at Ridge and then stiffens a little. “Sorry. Is that weird? We shouldn’t talk about Maggie. That’s weird.” He looks over at Warren, who brought up the entire conversation. “Shut the fuck up, Warren.”
Warren brushes off Brennan’s comment with a flippant wave in my direction. “Sydney’s cool. She’s not a PSYCHOTIC JEALOUS GIRLFRIEND LIKE SOME PEOPLE!” he yells toward his bedroom.
Two seconds later, Bridgette swings open the door and says, “I’m not your girlfriend. I broke up with you.”
Warren looks offended. And confused. He holds up his hands. “When?”
“Right now,” Bridgette says. “I’m breaking up with you right now, asshole.” She slams the door, and sadly, no one really pays it much attention. Some things haven’t changed a bit around here. Warren doesn’t even get up from the couch to chase after her.
I feel my phone vibrate, so I look at the text.
Ridge: Hi.
I glance over at him, and he’s sitting on the bar now, next to Brennan. They’re both swinging their legs, seated the same way, and Ridge looks completely adorable as he smiles at me. The looks he gives me are intoxicating. He motions for me to come stand with him, so I walk over to him. He spreads his legs wider, turning me until my back is against his chest. He kisses me on the side of my head and wraps his arms around my shoulders.
“Hey, Sydney,” Brennan says. “Did Ridge play you the song Price wrote?”
I glance at Price and then back at Brennan. “No, which one is it?”
Brennan signs for Ridge to play me the song, so Ridge holds his phone in front of me and searches his files.
“Even If Your Back Was Turned,” Price says from the couch.
“We just recorded it last week,” Brennan says. “I like it. I think it’ll do well. Price wrote it for his mommy.”
Price throws a pillow in Brennan’s direction. “Fuck you,” he says. He looks at me and shrugs. “I am a momma’s boy.”
I laugh, because he doesn’t look like your typical momma’s boy.
Ridge finds the song and presses play. He sets the phone on his thigh and then wraps his arms around me again as I listen. Almost as soon as it starts to play, the text notification goes off on Ridge’s phone. I look down at it.
Maggie: Guess what? I’m finally riding in a TESLA!!!
Ridge must see the text as soon as I hear it and read it, because his legs stop swinging and he stiffens. We’re both looking at the phone, and I know he’s waiting on my reaction, but I don’t know how I should react. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be feeling right now. It’s just all too weird. I reach over and swipe up on her text so it’ll disappear. Then I pause the song and say to Price, “I’ll listen to it later. It’s too loud in here.”
Ridge wraps his arm tighter around my waist as he picks up his phone and begins texting with one hand. I don’t know if he’s responding to her or not, but I guess it’s not my business. Is it? I don’t even know if I should be mad. I don’t think I’m mad. Confused is a better word for it. Or maybe uncomfortable is the best way to describe what I’m feeling.
Ridge pulls on my hand so I’ll turn and look at him. I’m still standing between his legs, but this time I’m facing him, looking at him, trying not to let him read my thoughts. He puts his phone in my hand, and when I look at it to read whatever he’s written in his note app, he lowers his forehead to mine.
She’s my friend, Sydney. We text sometimes.
As I’m reading the note on his phone, his hands are sliding softly down my arms in a comforting gesture. It’s amazing how much more he can communicate non-verbally as a result of being so stifled by his verbal communication. By pressing his forehead to mine as I read what he typed, it’s as if he’s silently saying, “We’re a team, Sydney. You and me.”
And t
he way he’s sliding his hands down my arms is equivalent to a thousand verbal reassurances.
I expected that he still talks to Maggie. What I didn’t expect was for it to bother me like it is. But it’s not because I think Ridge and Maggie are in the wrong. It’s because I feel like I’ll always be the girl who came between them, no matter how friendly they remain. I can be friendly with every single friend Ridge ever has, but I’m not sure I could ever be friends with Maggie, so the fact that he is friends with her makes me feel like a third-wheel to that friendship.
It’s a strange feeling. And one I don’t like, so I can’t help but have a noticeable reaction. Especially to Ridge. He notices every non-verbal reaction I have because that’s the focus of his communication.
I hand Ridge’s phone back to him and force a smile, but I know my feelings are probably written all over my face. He pulls me in for a reassuring hug and then kisses the side of my head. I press my face against his neck and sigh.
“God, you two are so cute together,” Brennan says. “It makes me want a girlfriend. For like a whole week, maybe.”
His comment makes me laugh. I pull away from Ridge and turn around, leaning my back into him again.
“You’re about to have one for more than a week,” Spencer says. “Sadie’s opening for us for the next two months.”
Brennan groans. “Don’t remind me.”
I welcome the distraction. “Who is Sadie?”
Brennan looks at me pointedly and says. “Sadie is Satan.”
“Her name is Sadie Brennan,” Warren says, standing up. “Not to be confused with Brennan Lawson. Coincidence that they share part of a name, and also a coincidence that Brennan thought she was a groupie the first time he met her.”