Maybe Not (Maybe #1.5)(2)
Author: Colleen Hoover

Bridgette.

I hate her name.

“You let a girl move in?” I make the sign for roommate and continue. “Why in the world would you let a girl move in with us?”

Ridge makes the sign for Brennan’s name. “That’s all him. I don’t think he would have accepted no for an answer.”

I laugh. “Since when are girls important to Brennan?”

“I heard that,” Brennan says from behind me. “And saw you sign it.”

I face him. “Good. So answer the question.”

He glares at me and then looks at Ridge. “Go back to sleep. I’ll handle the five-year-old.” He motions for me to follow him into the living room, turning out Ridge’s bedroom light as he exits.

I like Brennan, but the fact that we’ve known each other for so long makes me feel like he’s my little brother sometimes. My annoying-as-fuck little brother. My little brother who thinks moving his women into our apartment is a good idea.

“It’s just for a few months,” Brennan says, continuing toward the kitchen. “She’s in a rough spot and needs a place to stay.”

I follow Brennan into the kitchen. “Since when did you start providing rescue homes? You don’t even let girls spend the night when you’re done with them, much less move in with you. Are you in love with her or something? Because if that’s the case, this is the stupidest decision you’ve ever made. You’ll get tired of her in a week and then what?”

Brennan faces me and calmly holds up a finger. “I told you earlier, it’s not like that. We aren’t together and we never will be together. But she’s important to me and she’s in a tough spot and we’re going to help her, okay?” He takes a bottle of water out of the fridge and opens the cap. “It won’t be that bad. She’s in school and works full-time, so she’ll hardly ever be here. You won’t even notice.”

I groan, frustrated, and run my hands down my face. “This is great,” I mumble. “The last thing I need right now is some chick taking over my entire bathroom.”

Brennan rolls his eyes and begins walking back toward his bedroom. “It’s a bathroom, Warren. You’re acting like a little shit.”

“She hit me!” I say in defense.

Brennan turns and cocks an eyebrow. “See what I mean?” He walks into his bedroom and closes the door behind him.

The water turns off in the shower, and I hear the curtain slide open. As soon as the door to her bedroom shuts, I walk toward the bathroom. My bathroom. I try to open the door from the living room, but it’s locked from the inside. I walk through my bedroom and check that door, but it’s locked, too. I walk out of my room, straight into her bedroom. My eyes catch a glimpse of her before she screams and pulls a towel in front of her.

“What the hell are you doing?”

She picks up a shoe and tosses it at me. It hits me in the shoulder, but I don’t even flinch. I ignore her and walk into the bathroom and slam the door shut. I lean against it, lock it behind me, and then close my eyes.

Dammit, she’s hot.

Why does she have to be hot?

And I know it was just a glimpse but . . . she shaves. Everywhere.

It’s bad enough I have to share a bathroom with a girl, but now I have to share it with a hot girl? A hot girl who has a severe mean streak? A hot girl with a sick tan and hair so long and thick, it covers up her breasts when it’s wet, and shit, shit, shit.

I hate Brennan. I hate Ridge. I also love them for doing this to me.

Maybe having her for a roommate could be a good thing.

“Hey, asshole!” she yells through the door. “I used all the hot water. Have fun.”

Maybe not.

I walk to Brennan’s room and swing open the door. He’s packing a suitcase and doesn’t even look at me when I stalk over to him.

“What now?” he asks, annoyed.

“I need to ask you something and I need you to be completely honest with me.”

He sighs and turns to face me. “What is it?”

“Have you slept with her?”

He looks at me like I’m an idiot. “I already told you no.”

I hate that he’s acting so mature and calm about this situation, because my reaction is making me feel really immature. Brennan has always been the immature one. Since the moment I met Ridge . . . God how long ago was that? Ten years? I’m twenty-four, Brennan’s twenty-one . . . yeah. Ten years. I’ve been best friends with them for a decade, and this is the first time I’ve actually felt inferior to Brennan.

I don’t like it. I’m the responsible one. Well, not as responsible as Ridge, obviously, but no one is. I do manage Brennan’s band, and I do a hell of a good job of it, so why can’t I seem to control my reactions right now?

Because. I know myself, and if I can’t get rid of the new roommate right away, then I’ll more than likely become infatuated with her. And if I’ll be infatuated with her, I need to make sure Brennan isn’t.

“You have to be honest with me, because I think you might be in love with her and I need you to tell me you’re not, because I think I might want to kiss her. And touch her. A lot. Like, everywhere.”

Brennan’s hands fly to his forehead and he looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. He takes several steps back.

“Are you listening to yourself, Warren? I mean, fuck, man! You yell at me three minutes ago because you hate her and don’t want her here, and now you’re saying you want her? Are you bipolar?”

He makes a good point.

Jesus, what’s wrong with me?

I pace the room, trying to figure out a solution. She can’t stay here. But I want her to stay. I can’t share a bathroom with her, but I don’t really want anyone else to share a bathroom with her, either. I’m a little bit selfish, apparently.

I pause my frantic pacing and look at Brennan. “Why is she so mean?”

Brennan walks over to me and calmly places two hands on my shoulders. “Warren Russell, you need to calm the hell down. You’re starting to freak me out.”

I shake my head. “I know. I’m sorry, I just. I don’t want to be attracted to a girl that you’re involved with, so I need to know now if that’s the case because we go too far back to let something like this mess us up. But you also know you can’t just drop a girl that looks like her in my lap, and expect me not to go there in my head. And I just saw her naked and now I’m useless. Ruined. She’s so damn perfect beneath all those clothes and . . .” I look up at him. “I just want to make sure I’m not stepping on any toes when I fantasize about her tonight.”