I feel uncomfortable watching him watch me sing, so I close my eyes and try to recall the lyrics as he continues to play the song. Its awkward singing them with him only a few feet away. When I wrote the lyrics the first time, he was playing his guitar but was a good two hundred yards away on his balcony. Still, though, as much as I tried to pretend I was writing them about Hunter at the time, I knew I was imagining Ridge singing them all along.
A LITTLE BIT MORE
Why dont you let me
Take you away
We can live like you wanted
From place to place
Ill be your home
We can make our own
Cuz together makes it pretty hard to be alone
We can have everything you ever wanted
And maybe just a little bit more
Just a little bit more
His guitar stops, so naturally, I stop. I open my eyes, and hes watching me with one of his expressionless expressions.
I take that back. This expression isnt expressionless at all. Hes thinking. I can tell by the squint in his eyes that hes coming up with an idea.
He glances away in order to pick up his phone.
Ridge: Do you mind if I try something?
Me: As long as you promise never again to propose a question by asking if I mind if you can try something.
Ridge: Nice try, but that made no sense.
I laugh, then look up at him. I nod softly, scared of what hes about to try. He sits up on his knees and leans forward, placing both hands on my shoulders. I attempt to hold in my gasp, but its a failed attempt. I dont know what hes doing or why hes getting so close to me, but holy crap.
Holy crap.
Why is my heart spazzing out right now?
He pushes me until Im flat on his mattress. He reaches behind him and picks up his guitar, then lays it on the other side of me. He lies down next to me.
Calm down, heart. Please. Ridge has supersonic senses, and hell feel you beating through the vibrations of the mattress.
Ridge scoots closer to me and by the way hes hesitating, it makes me think hes unsure if Ill allow him any closer.
I will. I absolutely will.
Hes staring at me now, contemplating his next move. I can tell hes not about to make a pass at me. Whatever hes about to do is making him way more apprehensive than if he were just planning to kiss me. Hes eyeing my neck and chest as if hes searching for a particular part of me. His eyes stop on my abdomen, pause, then fall back to his phone.
Oh, Lord. What is he about to do? Put his hands on me? Does he want to feel me sing this song? Feeling requires touching, and touching requires hands. His hands. Feeling me.
Ridge: Do you trust me?
Me: I dont trust anyone anymore. My trust has been completely depleted this week.
Ridge: Can you replenish your trust for about five minutes? I want to feel your voice.
I inhale, then look at himlying next to meand I nod. He sets down his phone without breaking my gaze. Hes watching me as if hes warning me to stay calm, but its having the exact opposite effect. Im sort of panicked right now.
He scoots closer and slides his arm under the back of my neck.
Oh.
Now hes even closer.
Now his face is hovering over mine. He reaches across my body and pulls the guitar flush against my side, bringing it closer to us. Hes still eyeing me with a look that seems intended to produce a calming effect.
It doesnt. It doesnt calm me down at all.
He lowers his head to my chest, then presses his cheek against my shirt.
Oh, this is great. Now he definitely feels how spastic my heart is beating right now. I close my eyes and want to die of embarrassment, but I dont have time for that, because he begins strumming the strings of the guitar next to me. I realize hes playing with both hands, one from underneath my head and one over me. His head is against my chest, and I can feel his hair brush my neck. Hes pretty much sprawled across me in order to reach his guitar with both arms.
Oh, my dear sweet baby Jesus in a wicker basket.
How does he expect me to sing?
I try to calm down by regulating my breathing, but its hard when were positioned like this. As usual when I miss an intro, he seamlessly starts the song over again from the beginning. When he reaches the point where I come in, I begin singing. Sort of. Its really quiet, because Im still waiting for air to find its way back into my lungs.
After the first few lines, I find a steadiness to my voice. I close my eyes and do my best to imagine Im simply sitting up on his bed right now the way I have been for the last hour.
Ill bring my suitcase
You bring that old lamp
We can live by the book
But we can never go back
Feeling the breeze
Never felt so right
Well watch the stars until they turn into light
We can have everything youve ever wanted
And maybe just a little bit more
Just a little bit more
He finishes the last chord but doesnt move. His hands remain stilled on his guitar. His ear remains firmly pressed against my chest. My breaths are heavier now that Ive 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 sit in silence for a few minutes. Im not sure why hes being so unresponsive, but Im too nervous to make any sudden movements. His arm is still underneath me, and hes making no effort to remove it, so Im not even sure if hes finished with this little experiment yet.
Im also not sure Id 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. Its been a week since I broke up with Hunter. The very last thing I wantor even needis to develop a crush on this guy.
However, Im thinking that may have happened before this week.
Crap.
I tilt my head and look at him. Hes watching me, but I cant tell what his face is trying to convey. If I had to guess, Id say hes thinking, Oh, hey, Sydney. Our mouths sure are close together. Lets do them a favor and close this gap.
His eyes drop to my mouth, and Im 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 thats another of his sounds that he keeps complete and total control over. I like that he cant 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 Im 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 didnt even hear the text, so turning away was of his own accord. Which means Im 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. Were done.
Ridge
Stop with the guilt trip, Ridge. You didnt do anything wrong. You arent doing anything wrong. Your heart is beating like this simply because youve never felt anyone sing before. It was overwhelming. You had a normal reaction to an overwhelming event. Thats all.
My eyes are still closed, and my arm is still underneath her. I should move it, but Im still trying to recover.
And I really want to hear another song.
This might be making her uncomfortable, but I have to get her to push through her discomfort, because I cant think of any other situation where Ill be able to do this.
Me: Can I play another one?
Shes holding her phone, texting someone whos not me. I wonder if shes texting Hunter, but I dont peek at her phone, as much as I want to.
Sydney: Okay. The first one didnt do anything for you?
I laugh. I think it did a little too much, in more ways than Id like to admit. Im almost positive it was also obvious to her by the end of the song, with the way I was pressed against her. But feeling her voice and what it was doing to all the other parts of me was way more important than what she was doing to me.
Me: Ive never listened to anyone like that before. It was incredible. I dont even know how to describe it. I mean, you were here, and you were the one singing, so I guess you dont really need me to describe it. But I dont know. I wish you could have felt that.
Sydney: Youre welcome, I guess. Im not really doing anything profound here.
Me: Ive always wanted to feel someone sing one of my songs, but it would be a little awkward doing this with one of the guys in the band. Know what I mean?
She laughs, then nods.
Me: Ill play the one we practiced last night, and then I want to play this last one again. Are you okay? If youre tired of singing, just tell me.
Sydney: Im good.
She lays down her phone, and I reposition myself against her chest. My entire body is battling itself. My left brain is telling me this is somehow wrong, my right brain is wanting to hear her sing again, my stomach is nowhere to be found, and my heart is punching itself in the face with one arm and hugging itself with the other.
I might never have this opportunity again, so I wrap my arm over her and begin playing. I close my eyes and search for the beat of her heart, which has slowed down some since the first song. The vibration of her voice meets my cheek, and I swear my heart flinches. She feels the way I imagined a voice would feel during a song but multiplied by a thousand. I focus on how her voice blends with the vibration of the guitar, and Im in complete awe.
I want to hear the range of her voice, but its hard without using my hands to feel it. I pull my hand away from the guitar and stop playing. Just like that, she stops singing. I shake my head no and motion a circle in the air with my finger, wanting her to keep singing even though Im no longer playing the chords.
Her voice picks back up, and I keep my ear pressed firmly to her chest while I lay my palm flat against her stomach. Her muscles clench beneath my hand, but she doesnt stop singing. I can feel her voice everywhere. I can feel it in my head, in my chest, against my hand.
I relax against her and listen to the sound of a voice for the very first time.
I wrap my arm around Maggies waist and pull her in closer. I can feel her struggling beneath me, so I pull her even tighter. Im not ready for her to go home yet. Her hand smacks my forehead, and shes lifting me off her chest as she attempts to wiggle out from beneath me.
I roll onto my back to let her off the bed, but instead, shes slapping my cheeks. I open my eyes and look up to see Sydney hovering over me. Her mouth is moving, but my vision is too fogged over to see what shes trying to say. Not to mention that the strobe light isnt helping.