Maybe Not (Maybe #1.5)(20)

“Who are you and why are you asleep on my couch?” I finally ask her.

Her whole body jerks at the sound of my voice. She lifts the pillow and backs away, making eye contact with me. I have to stifle a laugh, because someone has written Someone wrote on your forehead on her face with a Sharpie.

It was more than likely Ridge, so I do what I can to avoid looking at it and stare at her eyes instead.

“Are you the new roommate?” I say with a mouthful of cereal.

She shakes her head. “No,” she says. “I’m a friend of Ridge’s.”

Hmmm. Didn’t see that one coming.

“Ridge only has one friend. Me.”

She rolls her eyes and sits up on the couch. She’s cute. Very impressive, Ridge.

“Jealous?” she asks, stretching into a yawn.

“What’s his last name?”

“Whose last name?”

“Your very good friend, Ridge.”

She sighs and her head falls against the back of the couch. “I don’t know Ridge’s last name,” she says. “I don’t even know his middle name. The only thing I know about him is he’s got a mean right hook. And I’m only asleep on your couch because my boyfriend of two years decided it would be fun to screw my roommate and I really didn’t want to stick around to watch.”

I like this girl. She could give Bridgette a run for her money. And I don’t mean with me, I just mean because Bridgette is mean and probably doesn’t meet a lot of girls who would stand up to her. This could be fun. “It’s Lawson,” I say. “And he doesn’t have a middle name.”

I hear Bridgette’s bedroom door open and I immediately turn around to face her. She’s still wearing my boxer shorts from last night, but she’s put her own T-shirt over them. God, she looks good. “Good morning, Bridgette. Sleep well?”

She looks at me briefly and rolls her eyes. “Screw you, Warren.”

Which, in Bridgette speak means, Yes, Warren. I slept like a baby, thanks to you.

“That’s Bridgette,” I whisper, turning back to the girl on the couch. “She pretends to hate me during the day, but at night she loves me.”

The girl laughs and makes a face like she doesn’t believe me.

“Shit!” Bridgette yells. I turn around in time to watch her catch herself by grabbing the bar. “Jesus Christ!” She kicks one of the suitcases that are still on the floor next to the bar. “Tell your little friend if she’s staying here she needs to take her shit to her room!”

My little friend? I turn to face the girl on the couch again, wide-eyed. I think Bridgette already has an issue with this girl. All the more reason to make sure she becomes the new roommate, because I like an angry Bridgette. I’m also willing to bet a jealous Bridgette will be a lot more clingy, which could work in my favor. I turn and glare at Bridgette from where I’m seated. “What am I, your bitch? Tell her yourself.”

Bridgette glances at the girl on the couch, then points to the suitcase she almost tripped over. “GET . . . YOUR . . . SHIT . . . OUT . . . OF . . . THE . . . KITCHEN!” She says before marching back to her bedroom.

I slowly turn my head to face the girl again. “Why does she think you’re deaf?”

She shrugs. “I have no idea. She came to that conclusion last night and I failed to correct her.”

I laugh. What a perfect prank, and I didn’t even have to think of it. “Oh, this is classic,” I say to her. “Do you have any pets?”

She shakes her head.

“Are you opposed to porn?”

“Not opposed to the principle of porn, but slightly opposed to being featured in one.” I nod, because that’s probably a good thing. At least I won’t have double the reason to watch every porn I can get my hands on.

“Do you have annoying friends?”

“My best friend is a backstabbing whore and I’m no longer speaking to her.”

“What are your showering habits?”

She laughs. “Once a day, with a skipped day every now and then. No more than fifteen minutes.”

“Do you cook?”

“Only when I’m hungry.”

“Do you clean up after yourself?”

“Probably better than you,” she says, glancing at my shirt, which I’ve used for a napkin several times during this conversation.

“Do you listen to disco?”

“I’d rather eat barbed wire.”

She’s perfect for us.

“Alright, then,” I tell her. “I guess you can stay.”

She sits up straighter and pulls her legs onto the couch. “I didn’t realize I was being interviewed.”

I look at her suitcase and then back at her. Most people don’t travel with all of their belongings, and if she’s in search of somewhere to live, I want it to be here so I can ensure the new roommate doesn’t have a dick. “It’s obvious you need a place to stay, and we’ve got an empty room. If you don’t take it, Bridgette wants to move her sister in next month and that’s the last thing Ridge and I need.”

“I can’t stay here,” she says, shaking her head.

“Why not? From the sound of it, you’re about to spend the day searching for an apartment anyway. What’s wrong with this one? You won’t even have to walk very far to get here.”