Page 32 of Love Letter Lost
“That was Kyle.” I laughed, thinking about the song sung by a trio of Black women in pink dresses. “He used to act out the scene. He’d even do the hand gestures and hip pops.”
Ridge joined in my laughter. I could still remember my tall, football-playing cousin acting out the song every time we watched the movie. “I’ll have to ask his wife if he still does it.”
“I bet it’s how he convinced her to marry him. He flashed his pearly whites, broke out his sweet moves, and she couldn’t say no.”
We both became engrossed in the movie, laughing at witty lines and bobbing our heads to the familiar music.
“I still think ‘Guys, Chad fell down,’ is one of the most underrated quotes in movie history,” I observed as that particular scene played out.
“What makes you say that?” Ridge turned to look at me.
“Well, if Chad hadn’t fallen down, the entire movie wouldn’t have happened. Chad wouldn’t have broken his arm, Guy wouldn’t have joined the band, and ‘That Thing You Do’ wouldn’t have become famous.” I gestured with my hands, trying to make my point.
“Or maybe ‘That Thing You Do’ would have remained a ballad and they would have gotten famous anyway, it just would have taken a bit longer.” Ridge was playing devil’s advocate, I could see it in his blue eyes.
“I don’t buy that.” I shook my head, rising to the challenge. “Faye has it right at the end when—”
“No spoilers!” Ridge held up his hand to stop me.
“But you’ve already seen it,” I shot back with a laugh.
“It might end differently than I remember. I’ve got to be sure.” Ridge gave me an earnest look, and I rolled my eyes but stayed quiet, my eyes growing heavier as I settled into the couch with the familiar movie banter surrounding me.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
The soundof a key in the door jerked me awake and I looked around, disoriented. I was still on the living room couch; yet, something was off. It was dark outside, but I’d fallen asleep with the lights on, something I rarely did. Still tired, I snuggled down, ready to go back to sleep when my pillow shifted under me, engulfing me in the familiar scent of cedarwood.
Startled, I realized that my pillow was too warm and too hard. Looking up, I caught Ridge’s confused gaze, his hair sticking up in spikes and his blue eyes blinking back sleep.
“What time is it?” he croaked, his voice husky.
I turned, trying to locate a clock, when Chloe walked in, staring at her phone.
“I’m glad you’re awake. You will not believe what— Oops!”
Ridge and I were both sprawled on the couch, his arm still around my shoulders. I flushed, realizing what it must look like, and ducked away from him.
“Chloe,” I rasped. “Ridge and I were watching a movie.” I hoped she wouldn’t notice that the TV was currently turned off, indicating just how long we’d been sleeping.
Chloe gave a skeptical look that I ignored.
“What time is it?” I repeated Ridge’s question. Maybe I could pretend everything was normal and Chloe would buy it. Or the stars of my favorite home renovation show could turn up on my doorstep, tools in hand, offering me a free home facelift. Currently, the odds of either one seemed equally likely.
Chloe looked at her phone, a grin stretching across her face. “Just after midnight.”
“Oh, man.” Ridge sat up, moving his arm. I instantly missed its warmth and weight. “I’ve got to go. I was supposed to call Amber when I got home. She’s probably freaking out.”
“I’ll walk you out.” I moved to stand, wincing as my legs and feet tingled with the restoration of circulation. Ridge waved me back down.
“It’s all good. I’ll see you tomorrow…I mean, later today.” He rubbed his jaw.
Ridge slipped out the door, leaving me alone with Chloe. She was fairly bursting with excitement.
“So,” she drew out the word, “tell me everything. What happened? I’m assuming this means the two of you made up. Though, I thought he was dating someone. Did they break up? Did you comfort him? Did you kiss? Is he a good kisser? Does this mean you’re dating? I knew you two would be perfect for each other.”
“Shh.” I tried to get Chloe to curb her excitement. “You’re worse than my mother. Also, Audrey’s asleep.”
“Not anymore.” Audrey shuffled from her bedroom wearing floral pajamas, her hair mussed and tangled from sleep. It was one of the few times I’d ever seen her without makeup. “Chloe’s squeals could wake the dead.”
