Maybe Not (Maybe #1.5)(24)

I squeeze my eyes shut and allow her words to sink in. Brennan wasn’t kidding when he said she’s had a rough life. And she’s so casual about it, like she’s just accepted that this is the kind of life she was given and there’s nothing she can do about it. A mixture of anger and sadness consumes me.

“Bridgette . . .”

“Don’t bother, Warren. I’ve dealt with my life the only way I know how. It works for me, and I don’t need you or anyone else to try and figure me out, or fix me. I am who I am and I’ve accepted that.”

I clamp my mouth shut and don’t offer her words of advice. I wouldn’t know what to say anyway. I feel awful for wanting to prod her with more questions after that revelation, but I’m not sure when I’ll get this side of her again. Bridgette doesn’t open up easily, and now I can see why. She doesn’t seem to have had anyone to open up to, so this might be a first for her.

“What about your sister?”

Bridgette releases a sigh. “She’s not even my real sister. We’re stepsisters, and we didn’t even grow up in the same house.”

I should stop with the questions. I know I should, but I can’t. To know that she’s probably never spoken or heard the words “I love you” from anyone in her life is affecting me way more than I imagined it could.

“I’m sure you’ve had boyfriends who have loved you in the past.”

She laughs a really sad laugh, and then she just sighs an even sadder sigh. “If you’re planning on asking me questions like this all night, I’d much rather you just fuck me.”

I cover my mouth with my hand, absorbing her words like a knife to the chest. She seriously can’t be this broken. No one can be this alone, can they?

“Have you ever loved anyone, Bridgette?”

Silence. Complete silence until her voice shatters it like glass. “It’s hard to fall in love with assholes, Warren.”

That’s a comment from a girl who’s been jaded way too many times. I stand up and slide the shower curtain open. She’s standing beneath the stream of water. Mascara has streaked its way down her cheeks.

“Maybe you just haven’t met the right asshole yet.”

She immediately lets out a quick burst of laughter, along with a few tears. Her eyes are sad, and her smile is appreciative and for the first time, she’s completely bare. It’s as though she’s holding her heart out to me, begging me not to break it. The vulnerability she’s showing me right now is something I’m almost positive she’s never shown anyone else. No other man, at least.

I step into the shower. She looks at me in shock as my clothes quickly become drenched. I take her face in my hands, and I kiss her.

I don’t kiss her fast.

I don’t kiss her rough.

I don’t kiss her hard.

I press my lips to hers with such delicacy; I want her to feel everything she’s ever deserved to feel at the hands of someone else. She deserves to feel beautiful. She deserves to feel important. She deserves to feel cared for. She deserves to feel respected. She deserves to feel like there’s at least one other person in this world who accepts her for exactly who she is.

She deserves to know how I feel, because I feel all of those things. And maybe a little more.





Chapter Nine

Since that day in the shower, things have changed between us.

Not that she had this miraculous personality shift or that she’s actually nice to me during the day. In fact, she’s still pretty damn mean to me most of the time. She also still thinks Sydney is deaf, which is almost unbelievable that the prank has gone on for this long. So I can’t even say that my excitement over pranking her has changed.

What has changed are our nights together.

The sex.

It’s different now. Slower. Way more eye contact. Way more kissing. Way more buildup. Way more kissing. So much kissing, and not just on the mouth. She kisses me everywhere, and she takes her time when she does it. And she enjoys it.

She still isn’t the type to want to cuddle afterward, and she always kicks me out of her bed before the sun comes up.

But still, it’s different. That night in the shower tore a wall down between us. Because I know that every night when I have her in bed, she gives me a part of herself that no one else has ever seen. And that’s enough to keep me happy for a long damn time.

I just hope today doesn’t ruin that.

We both have the day off and that doesn’t happen very often between both of our jobs and school. I have a few errands to run and I asked her to go with me, which might be a little strange. We’ve been sleeping together for a few months now, but this is the first time we’ve ever actually done anything that didn’t involve sex.

Which also makes me wonder if I should ask her out on a date eventually. I know she’s not a typical girl, but surely she likes some of the same things other girls do, like being taken out on dates. But she’s never hinted that she wants me to take her on one, and frankly, I’m scared to ask her. I feel like our setup is perfect for both of us and if we start throwing dates into the mix, it’ll screw it all up.

That includes daytime dates. Like today. Like what we’re about to do.

Shit.

“So,” Sydney says. She’s seated on the couch next to me. I’m watching porn, naturally, because Bridgette still refuses to give me the name of the one she was in. Sydney doesn’t mind it, though. She’s focusing on her homework, oblivious to the fact that I’m kind of having a minor internal freak-out over the fact that I may or may not have just invited Bridgette on a daytime date to run errands.