RIDGE
Can you just not get mad at me when I say this?
ME
Sure.
Ridge’s text bubble pops up, then disappears, then pops up again. After a few seconds, it disappears once more and pops back up.
“Christ, Ridge, just spit it out.” There’s no one around me except for Tater, who couldn’t care less. He’s given up chasing the balls and is lying just in front of me in a patch of shadow my body is casting, the sun at my back.
Finally, my phone buzzes.
RIDGE
I just thought she was the one for you, man. I really did. And maybe that makes no sense and maybe you think it’s based on nothing, but I could’ve sworn I saw something between you two.
As I’m reading his first message, another pops up.
RIDGE
Darcy seemed surprised about what Lyric told her. She gave me the impression she had similar thoughts to me. Though, neither of us said it. Maybe I’m wrong. Hell, it wouldn’t be the first time. But I would just ask… suggest… impress upon you the importance of not fucking it up because you don’t think you deserve it.
I stare blankly at my phone, my eyes fixed on that last sentence. Is that really what it’s been? My self-worth? I once joked that I was cursed on a cosmic level not to have happiness. I was feeling particularly cynical about life and death. I joked that the universe took my mom, left me with a bum dad, and if I ever fell in love, it would find a way to take her too.
Looking back, I can see how you might think I’m self-loathing. I also think you might be right. That Ridge might be right.
So, what the hell can I do about it now? Is there even anything I can do? Lyric is a special woman. She deserves a man who will not have to be convinced they want her.
But is that what it is? No. No, it can’t be, because no one needs to convince me I want her. I just fucking want her. Like, all thetime. I wanted her a year ago; I want her now. I want her enough that it scares me. Fucking obviously.
I take a deep breath and shut my eyes, throwing my head back so that I can get a little sun on my face. Relationships are complicated. Hell, people are complicated. The best thing I can do for everyone is just keep my head down and give her the space she asked for. The rest of it doesn’t really matter after that.
When Lyric got home,she jumped right into getting-ready mode, and I barely got to say hello to her, let alone anything else. Not that there was anything else I was going to say. And it’s probably a good thing I’m DD, too. God knows I don’t need any liquid courage right now.
I was ready twenty minutes ago, but Lyric says she still needs another ten. So I settled on having a little smoke session before we leave. It’ll be something to help me tolerate people drinking around me. I don’t mean I’m jealous of them. What I mean is drunk people are annoying when you’re not drunk yourself.
Well, I won’t be the only DD there either. Ridge is also not drinking. He’s driving Darcy, of course, as well as Banks and Killian.
Thirty-two minutes later, I’ve smoked and had a little snack, when Lyric finally emerges from her room, shouting that she’s ready to go.
“Sorry, sorry,” she says. “I couldn’t find any of the things I wanted. It took me forever.”
She says something else after that, and I hear the sound of her laugh grow fuzzy in my ears. My eyes are fixed on her, and even the space around her blurs.
Lyric’s deep reddish-brown hair cascades over her shoulders in loose waves, framing her face perfectly. Her black skirt is shorter in the front and much longer in the back, showing off the black fishnet stockings and black boots she’s paired with it. Her top is a leathery vest looking thing that dips low in the front and hugs every curve so fucking well. Jesus Christ.
There’s a dark purple stain on her lips that makes me want to smudge the hell out of it. Or see it smeared around my cock.
“You look… uh, good.” Nice. Smooth.
“Thank you,” she says with a smile. “So do you.”
We stand in silence, looking at each other for a full thirty seconds before I clear my throat. “Should we go then?”
She nods, securing her phone into a small purse at her side as she heads toward the door. I throw a chewy treat in Tater’s direction as an apology for leaving him behind. If I had it my way, we’d only go to the one bar on the other side of the city that allows dogs. But I clearly do not always fucking get it my way.
I open the passenger side door of my Jeep and offer my hand to help her in. The boots look sturdy enough, but the skirt and stockings present invisible challenges I know nothing about.
