Maybe Someday

by Colleen Hoover

  I become, the faster our hearts race against the palms of our hands.

  Beat, beat, pause.

  Beatbeat, pause.

  Beatbeat pause.

  Beatbeat pause.

  The faster our hearts race, the quicker his rhythm becomes, matching each beat of my heart movement for movement.

  I gasp.

  He’s moving to the sound of my heart.

  I wrap my free arm around his neck and focus on his heartbeat, instantly aware that our hearts are perfectly in sync. I tighten my legs around his waist and lift myself against him, wanting him to make my heart beat even faster. He skims his lips across my cheek until they’re flush against my mouth, but he doesn’t kiss me. The silence around me makes me even more aware of the pattern of his breath falling against my skin. I focus on my palm against his chest and feel his quick intake of air, seconds before I taste the sweetness of his breath as he exhales, teasing my mouth.

  Inhale, exhale.

  Inhale, exhale.

  Inhale, exhale.

  His rhythmic breathing becomes quicker when his tongue slips inside my mouth, gently caressing the tip of mine.

  If I could hear, I’m positive I would have just heard myself whimper. It’s becoming a habit whenever he’s around.

  I move my hand to the back of his head, needing to taste more of him. I pull him to me with such sudden urgency he moans into my mouth. Feeling his moan without hearing it is probably the most sensual thing I’ve ever experienced. His voice as it passes through me does more than hearing it ever could.

  Ridge slides his hand away from my heart and presses his forearms into the mattress on both sides of my head. He boxes me in with his arms, and I slide my hand away from his chest, needing to grab hold of him with all my strength. What little I have left, anyway.

  I feel him pull farther back, and then, without hesitation, he pushes inside me, claiming me, filling me.

  I . . .

  Can’t . . .

  My heart.

  Christ. He just silenced my heart, because I can no longer feel it at all. The only thing I feel is him moving against me . . . away from me . . . inside of me . . . into me. I’m completely consumed by him.

  I keep my eyes closed and listen to him without hearing a thing, experiencing him silently, the same way he’s experiencing me. I soak in every single beautiful thing about the smoothness of his skin and the feel of his breath and the taste of our moans, until it’s impossible to tell us apart.

  We continue to explore each other quietly, finding all the parts of ourselves we’ve only been able to imagine up to this point.

  When my body begins to tense again, it’s not at all because I’m nervous this time. I can sense his muscles clenching beneath my hands, and I grip his shoulders, ready to fall with him. He presses his cheek firmly to mine, and I feel him groan against my neck, making two final, long thrusts at the same second as I feel the moans escaping my throat.

  He begins to tremble with his release but somehow pulls his hand between us again and presses it against my heart. He’s shaking against me, and I’m doing my best to regain control of my own shudders while he begins to slow himself down, once again to the rhythm of my heart.

  His movements grow so soft and subtle I can barely feel them through all the tears I’m crying. I don’t even know why I’m crying, because this is by far the most indescribable feeling that has ever come over me.

  Maybe that’s why I’m crying.

  Ridge relaxes on top of me and brings his mouth back to mine. He kisses me so softly and for so long my tears eventually subside and are replaced with complete silence, accompanied only by the rhythm of our hearts.

  Ridge

  I close the bathroom door and return to her on the bed. Her face is illuminated by the moonlight pouring through the windows. Her mouth is curled up into a soft smile as I lower myself down beside her. I slide my arm beneath her shoulders, then lay my head on her chest and close my eyes.

  I love the sound of her.

  I love her. Everything about her. I love that she’s never judged me. I love that she understands me. I love that despite everything I’ve put her heart through, she’s done nothing but support my decisions, no matter how much they destroyed her at the time. I love her honesty. I love her selflessness. Most of all, I love that I’m the one who gets to love all these things about her.

  “I love you,” I feel her say.

  I close my eyes and listen as she continues to repeat the phrase again and again. I adjust my ear until it’s directly over her heart, savoring every single thing about her. Her smell, her touch, her voice, her love.

  I’ve never felt so much at once.

  I’ve never needed to feel more.

  I lift my head and look back down into her eyes.

  She’s a part of me now.

  I’m a part of her.

  I kiss her softly on the nose and mouth and chin, then press my ear against her heart again. For the first time in my life, I hear absolutely everything.

  Acknowledgments

  So many people to thank and so few words to do it in. First, not a single book I’ve started writing would ever reach the end if it weren’t for those who encourage me and give me feedback along the way. In no particular order, these people deserve a huge thanks for always tagging along during the writing process.

  Christina Collie, Gloria Green, Autumn Hull, Tammara Webber, Tracey-Garvis Graves, Karen Lawson, Jamie McGuire, Abbi Glines, Marion Archer, Mollie Harper, Vannoy Fite, Lin Reynolds, Kaci Blue-Buckley, Pamela Carrion, Jenny Aspinall, Sarah Hansen, Madison Seidler, Aestas, Natasha Tomic, Kay Miles, Sali-Benbow Powers, Vilma Gonzalez, Crystal Cobb, Dana Ferrell, the ever-supportive Kathryn Perez, and everyone else I’ve bugged along the way.

  Thank you to my girls of FP. There are no words. Except these seventeen words, I guess.

  Thank you, Joel and Julie Williams, for being amazingly supportive.

  Tarryn Fisher, for being my confidence and also my reality check.

  My husband and boys, for being the best four men on the planet.

  Elizabeth Gunderson and Carol Keith McWilliams for your feedback, knowledge, and support. You are simply beautiful, and I couldn’t have done it without either of you.

  Jane Dystel and the entire Dystel & Goderich team for their continued support.

  Judith Curr, publisher of Atria Books, and her team for going above and beyond their duties. Your support is unmatched.

  To my editor, Johanna Castillo. To say I was nervous about delivering my first stand-alone to you is an understatement. I should have known better than to be nervous, because the two of us make a great team. I am so lucky to have you.

  A HUGE thank-you to the Maybe Someday team: Chris Peterson, Murphy Fennell, and Stephanie Cohen. You guys rocked it.

  And last, but definitely not least, Griffin Peterson. Thank you. A million times thank you. Your talent and work ethic can’t go unmentioned, but your support and enthusiasm go above and beyond. There isn’t even an emoji worthy enough.

  Oh, and to Dave and Pooh Bear, just for the heck of it.