Maybe Someday (Maybe, #1)

by Colleen Hoover

I realize he’s 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. He’s pretty much sprawled across me in order to reach his guitar with both arms. Oh, my dear sweet baby Jesus in a wicker basket.

The most endearing moment I've read about from the perspective of hearing loss and hearing music. Just wow!

Nothing good can come this way Lines are drawn, but then they fade For her I bend, for you I break

Ridge: Why would I? You’re not out there anymore.

He brings both hands to my cheeks and looks directly into my eyes. “Your call,” he whispers. Jesus Christ, that voice.

I remove my hands from his shoulders and grab the back of his head, then lean into him, bringing my mouth so close to his that our lips brush. He grins. “Good call,” he whispers.

“It’s you,” he says aloud. “My heart… wants you.”

“He can’t hear what I’m saying right now, so I’ll take this opportunity to tell you Ridge is full of shit. He doesn’t want to wait anymore. He wants you to say the word more than he wants air. So please, for the sake of all that is holy, say the word tonight.” I laugh as I wipe a tear from my eye.