Maybe Not (Maybe #1.5)(10)
Shit.
Now she’s heading toward me with books in her hands.
Shit.
She’s sitting on the couch. Next to me. In that thin tank top. Without a bra.
I can handle this. I force my eyes on the TV, still in search of whatever porn she was in. I could just ask her, but that’s not a good idea. If she knows I know she was in a porn film, she’d probably do everything she could to make sure I never find out.
She leans forward and picks up the remote, and then points it at the TV to mute it. I don’t know who she thinks she is, but if she doesn’t want to hear the TV, she can go to her room. I grab the remote and turn the sound back on. She sighs and opens one of her textbooks and begins reading.
I pretend I’m paying attention to the TV, but I can’t stop stealing glances at her, because holy shit, I can’t believe I walked away from her. I’m an idiot.
She grabs the remote and mutes the TV again, possibly because one of the girls was screaming at the top of her lungs. I wonder if Bridgette is loud during sex? Probably not. She’s more than likely stubborn, refusing to give up any of her sounds.
I unmute the TV again and she reaches her breaking point. “I’m trying to study, Warren. For f*ck’s sake, you still get the same effect when it’s on mute.”
I eye her curiously. “How would you know? Are you a porn expert?”
She glances at me, a flash of suspicion in her eyes. “Can you please, for one night, forgo your addiction so I can study in peace and quiet?”
Bridgette said please.
“Go study in your bedroom,” I say.
Her mouth presses into a tight, thin line. She pushes her book off her lap and stands. She walks toward the TV and reaches behind it, pulling the plug. After returning to the couch, she pulls her book back onto her lap and resumes studying.
I don’t know how I ever got beyond her horrible attitude enough to even be attracted to her. She’s vile. I don’t care how good she looks, she’ll never find anyone who can put up with her personality.
“You can be a real bitch sometimes, you know that?”
She releases an exasperated breath. “Yeah, well. You’re addicted to porn.”
I laugh under my breath. “At least I wasn’t in a porn.”
Her eyes swing in my direction. “I knew you were eavesdropping.”
I shrug. “I couldn’t help it. You were having a conversation like you were an actual human being. It was fascinating.”
Her focus falls back onto the pages of the textbook. “You’re an *.”
“You’re an opportunist.”
She slams her book shut and turns to face me on the couch. “An opportunist? Are you kidding me?”
I pull my knee up and turn and face her. “You don’t think it seems a little fishy that you show up out of the blue and claim to be the long-lost sister to the most popular local band in Austin?”
She looks capable of murder. “Warren, I suggest you stop making accusations against people you know absolutely nothing about.”
I grin, because I know that got to her. I might come out victorious again.
“I’ve learned enough about you to know you don’t deserve to be trusted.” I pick up her book and put it back in her lap and point to her bedroom. “Now take your homework and go back to your borrowed room.”
“MY borrowed room? You don’t even pay rent, Warren.”
“Neither do you, Bridgette.”
“All you do is watch porn and stare at my ass. You’re a lazy pervert.”
“All you do is flaunt your ass and fantasize about me kissing you.”
“You’re disgusting,” she says. “As a matter of fact, watch the porn. I’m sure you need all the pointers you can get.”
Okay, that’s low. She can insult my laziness, my finances, my new porn addiction, but she cannot insult my bedroom skills. Especially when she doesn’t have firsthand experience. “I don’t need pointers to please a woman, Bridgette. I was born with natural talent.”
She’s eyeing me like she’s about to punch me, but I can’t stop staring at her mouth, hoping she insults me again. Somewhere between being called an * and this moment, I’ve become more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life. I’m hoping she’s about to storm off to her bedroom because I’ve already met my quota for restraint when it comes to her.
She licks her bottom lip, and I have to grip the couch cushion to keep myself from attacking that mouth. Her eyes are focused intensely on mine, and we’re both breathing so heavily from our verbal attacks, I can taste her breath on my lips.
“I hate you,” she says through clenched teeth.
“I hated you first,” I hiss back.
Her focus falls on my mouth and as soon as I see the tiniest flash of desire in her eyes, I lunge forward. I grab her face and press my lips to hers as I shove her back against the couch. She’s pushing me away with her knees while pulling me to her with her hands. My tongue forces through the barrier of her lips and she devours me in response. I kiss her hard, and she kisses me even harder. I’m pulling at a fistful of her hair while she scratches down my neck with her fingernails. Fuck, it hurts. She hurts.
I want more.
I’m hovering over her and then pressing myself against her, pulling her knee up so she can wrap it around my waist. Her hands are in my hair, and I don’t want her to move out. I want her to stay. I want her to be my roommate forever. She’s the best f*cking roommate I’ve ever had and my God, she’s so nice. How did I ever think she was mean? She’s so, so sweet, and her lips are sweet and Bridgette, I love your name.