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Maybe Not

Maybe Not (Maybe #1.5)(24)
Author: Colleen Hoover

I love it.

“You think that’s funny?” Bridgette says after spinning around. I quickly shake my head and lose my smile, but she throws her hand in Sydney’s direction. “The girl obviously has it bad for you, and you can’t even respect me enough to distance yourself from her until I’m out of the house?” She turns her back to us again. “First she gives Ridge some sob story so he’ll let her move in and now she’s taking advantage of the fact that you know sign language so she can flirt with you.”

I don’t know who to feel worse for, Bridgette or Sydney. Or myself. “Bridgette, stop.”

“You stop, Warren,” she says, turning back around to face me. “Either stop crawling in bed with me at night or stop shacking up on the couch with her during the day.”

I knew it was coming, but I hoped I wouldn’t be here when it finally did.

Sydney reaches her breaking point and slaps her book against her thighs. “Bridgette, please!” she yells. “Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! Christ! I don’t know why you think I’m deaf, and I’m definitely not a whore and I’m not using sign language to flirt with Warren. I don’t even know sign language. And from now on, please stop yelling when you speak to me!”

I’m scared to look at Bridgette. I feel torn, because I want to high-five Sydney for finally standing up for herself, but I want to hug Bridgette because I know this has to be hard for her. I suddenly feel like the prank was the worst prank in the history of pranks.

I glance up just in time to see a flood of hurt wash over Bridgette’s face. She marches to her room and slams her door.

This is going to be impossible to fix. Sydney just single-handedly ruined my entire relationship with that outburst.

Okay, it wasn’t all her. I played a huge part in it, too.

My chest hurts. I don’t like this. I don’t like the silence, and I don’t like the fact that I’m about to have to go make this right. I put my hands on my knees and begin to stand. “Well, there goes my chance to act out all the role-playing scenes I’ve been imagining. Thanks a lot, Sydney.”

She pushes her book off her lap and stands up. “Screw you, Warren.”

Ouch. Double hurt.

Sydney walks over to Bridgette’s bedroom door and knocks. After a few seconds, she cautiously slips inside and closes the door behind her.

If she somehow fixes this, I’ll be indebted to her forever.

I sigh and run my hand through my hair, knowing this is my fault. I glance over at Ridge and he’s staring at me. “What’d I miss?” he signs.

I slowly shake my head in shame. “Bridgette found out Sydney’s not deaf and now Bridgette hates me. Sydney went to Bridgette’s room to try and fix things because she feels guilty.”

Confusion clouds Ridge’s face. “Sydney?” he signs. “What does she have to feel guilty for?”

I shrug. “Going along with the prank, I guess. She feels bad that it embarrassed Bridgette.”

Ridge shakes his head. “Bridgette deserved it. If anyone should be apologizing, it should be her. Not Sydney.”

Why is he defending Sydney like he’s her overprotective boyfriend? I glance at Bridgette’s bedroom door, shocked that I actually hear a conversation going on in her room, rather than a catfight. Ridge waves his hand in the air to get my attention again.

“Bridgette isn’t yelling at her, is she?” he signs. He looks worried, and frankly, that concerns me.

“You sure do seem to care a lot about Sydney’s well-being,” I sign.

His jaw tightens, and I know I probably shouldn’t have said anything. I can’t help it, though. I’ve been through a lot with Ridge and Maggie, and I don’t want him screwing things up just because he might find another girl attractive.

I can tell he doesn’t want to take the conversation in that direction, so I redirect it back to me.

“No, neither of them are yelling,” I sign. “But Bridgette will be as soon as she walks back out of her bedroom. She’ll more than likely move out now, and I’ll never be able to crawl out of bed again because . . .” I clasp my hand to my chest, “She’s gonna take my heart with her.”

He knows I’m being dramatic, so he rolls his eyes and laughs, turning to face his laptop again. The door to Bridgette’s bedroom swings open, and she marches out.

I didn’t prepare for this. I knew she’d be mad, but I’m not sure I can defend myself against her physically if we were in a real fight.

I sit up straight and watch in fear as she walks swiftly toward me. She kneels down onto the couch and slides her leg across my lap, straddling me.

I’m so confused.

Her hands meet my cheeks and she sighs. “I can’t believe I’m falling in love with such a stupid, stupid asshole.”

My heart wants to rejoice, but my mind is pulling on the reins.

Falling in love.

With an asshole.

A stupid, stupid asshole.

Holy shit! That’s me!

I wrap my hands around her head and pull her mouth to mine at the same time that I stand up and begin making my way into my bedroom. I shut the door behind us and walk over to the bed and drop her on it. I take off my shirt and throw it on the floor.

“Say it again.” I slide on top of her and she smiles, touching my face with the palms of her hands.

“I said I’m falling in love with you, Warren. I think. I’m pretty sure that’s what this is.”

I kiss her again, frantically. Those are the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard come out of another human. I pull back and look at her again. “But you wanted to kill me five minutes ago. What changed?” I lift up onto my hands. “Did Sydney pay you to say that? Is this a prank?” My heart stops. Bridgette shakes her head.

I would die. I would literally die if she took them back. I would die so much better than Brody dies, because my death would be actual death.

“I just . . .” Bridgette pauses, searching for the right words. “I’ve been thinking this whole time that maybe you were messing around with Sydney. But after talking to her, I know that’s not true. And she also mentioned that one night when you were drunk, you said you might love me. And that just . . . I don’t know, Warren.”

God, I love this. I love her nervousness. I love her hesitation. I love that she’s talking to me so openly. “Tell me, Bridgette,” I say quietly, urging her to finish what she was saying. I roll onto my side and lift up onto my elbow. I brush the hair away from her forehead and lean forward to kiss it.

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