Sydney tilts her head and smiles at me reassuringly. “It’ll be fine, Maggie. He obviously likes you or he wouldn’t have agreed to drive all the way here and spend time with people he doesn’t even know.”
“That’s the problem,” I say. “He does like me. But he likes a version of me that’s confident and independent and has one-night stands. He hasn’t hung out with the insecure version of me who is living on a mattress on the floor of the spare bedroom of my ex-boyfriend’s apartment.”
Sydney dismisses my comment with a flippant wave of her hand. “For one more day. You’re moving out tomorrow, and you’ll be independent and in your own place again.”
I shrug. “Even still. It doesn’t change the fact that I’ve been an emotional toddler for most of the past couple of weeks.” I let my head fall back, and I groan. “I’ve been so hot and cold with him. He probably only agreed to today because he’s hoping I’ll impress him enough so that he can forget about all the times I was unimpressive.”
Sydney sets down the bag of chips. She rolls her eyes and walks up to me, placing her hands on my shoulders. She backs me up against a barstool, keeping her hands on my shoulders as she forces me to sit. “Do you know what I did for the first two weeks of living here?”
I shake my head.
“I cried every day. I cried because my life was shit and I cried because I got fired from the library for having an emotional breakdown and throwing books at the wall. And sure, I got better for a while. But a few months later, when I moved out and got my own place, I cried every day for weeks again.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because,” she says, releasing my shoulders and standing up straight. “I was all over the place with my emotions for months on end. But every time I saw you, you were the epitome of strength. Even the day you found out about me and Ridge, I was so intimidated by your resolve. And…maybe even a little impressed. But you seem to be forgetting about all of that, and instead, you’re focusing on a few bad days you’ve had.” She reaches down and grabs my hands, looking at me with an expression full of sincerity. “No one is the best version of themselves all the time, Maggie. But what creates the difference between confidence and insecurity are the moments in our past that we choose to obsess over. You’re obsessing over your shittiest moments when you should be obsessing over the better ones.”
I haven’t been around her a whole lot, but when I am around her, she impresses me more and more with how right she always is. I put a lot of weight on that as I cycle through a couple of breaths. I begin to nod. I’ve definitely had some unremarkable moments. So has she. So has Ridge. So have Warren and Bridgette. And…even though he seems perfect…Jake has had moments in his past when he hasn’t been perfect. And I’m sure if I knew about his imperfect moments, I wouldn’t hold them against him for a second. Which means he probably doesn’t hold my indecisiveness against me like I’ve been worried he might. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be knocking on the door right now.
Oh, God. He’s knocking.
“Oh, God,” I say out loud.
Sydney glances at the door and then back at me. “You want me to answer it?”
I shake my head. “No. I’ll do it.”
She waits for me to stand, but I don’t. I just stare at the door, unmoving.
“Maggie.”
“I know. I just… I don’t think I’m ready for introductions yet. Can you…”
She nods, pulling me out of my chair. “I’ll disappear,” she agrees. “You answer the door.”
Sydney gives me a quick shove toward the door as she rushes off toward Ridge’s bedroom. Jake knocks again, and I’m scared if I don’t open the door right away, Warren will walk out of his bedroom to answer the door. Or worse…Bridgette.
That thought swings me into action. I open the front door, and Jake is here, standing right in front of me. He’s taller than I remember. Cuter. I suck in a breath at the sight of him, but I don’t give myself time to give him the onceover. I grab his hand and pull him inside the apartment and across the living room. I don’t release his hand until we’re safely alone in my bedroom. I turn and shut the door behind us, leaning my forehead against it. I blow out a breath, still facing the door. I’m slightly more at ease now that we’re out of the danger zone, but still nervous as hell as I slowly turn and face him.
He’s standing a couple of feet in front of me, looking down at me like he’s trying not to laugh.
God, he’s cute. He’s wearing jeans and a navy blue graphic T-shirt with an anatomically correct heart on the front of it. Funny. I stare at the shirt for a moment, admiring how good he looks in it. Then I look him in the eye and stand up a little straighter. I clear my throat.
“Hi,” I say.
He tilts his head a bit, curiosity clouding his expression. He’s probably wondering why I rushed him into this room like there were zombies chasing us. “Hello, Maggie.” I can see all the questions he isn’t asking as he narrows his eyes, lifting a brow.
“Sorry. I just wanted a minute alone with you before introductions.”
He smiles, and I just want to sink to the floor. Not because his smile melts me, but because I’m so embarrassed about the conversation I’m about to have with him. I’m embarrassed by the condition of this bedroom. I’m embarrassed that he’s a doctor who seems to have all his shit together, whereas my life is currently akin to a broke college co-ed’s, living in a sparse dorm room.
Jake’s hands slide into his back pockets and he glances around the room—at the mattress on the floor. He looks back at me. “Is this your bedroom?”
“Just until tomorrow. All my stuff is in a U-Haul downstairs. I’m moving to another unit in the complex.”
He laughs a little, like he’s relieved to know I own more than just a pathetic mattress pushed against the wall of an empty room. He’s a few feet away from me, but I still have to look up at him. I suck in a shaky breath after I respond to him. He notices.
“You seem nervous,” he says.
“I am,” I admit.
He smiles at my honesty. “Me, too.”
“Why?” I blurt out.
He shrugs. “Same reasons you are, I assume.”
I know for a fact we aren’t nervous for the same reasons. “Please,” I say, rolling my eyes with a laugh. “You’re a cardiologist raising a half-grown child. I’m just a college student with roommates, sleeping on a mattress on the floor of an empty room. I can assure you we are not nervous for the same reasons.”
Jake stares at me a moment, contemplating my words. “Are you saying you feel inferior to me?”
I nod. “Just a little,” I lie. Because I feel a lot inferior to him.
He releases a quick laugh, but he doesn’t respond. He just takes a step away from me and looks around the room again, turning his back to me. His focus falls on my mattress for a moment. He looks back at me over his shoulder and then half-turns, reaching out his hand.
I look down at his hand, beckoning for mine. I slide my hand into his, admiring the strength behind his grip as he closes his fingers around mine. He pulls me with him, walking toward the mattress.
He sits down, scooting to the middle of the mattress, resting his back against the wall. He still has a grip on my hand, so he pulls on it, urging me to follow suit. As soon as I begin to kneel, he pulls one of my legs over his lap so that I’m straddling him.
Not what I was expecting.
We’re almost eye to eye, but I haven’t relaxed yet, so I’m slightly taller than him in this position. He leans his head back against the wall, looking up at me.
“There,” he says, smiling gently. “Now, you’re in a position of control. It should make you a little less nervous.”