Maybe Not (Maybe #1.5)(2)

I walk to Ridge’s bedroom and flip the light switch a couple of times to give him warning that I’m coming in, since he’s deaf and can’t hear me knocking or stomping toward his room like a kid about to tattle on his little brother.

I flip the switch two more times and then swing his door open. He’s lifting up onto his elbows, groggy-eyed. He sees the anger on my face and he begins to laugh, incorrectly assuming I’m here about the pepper-juice prank.

I hate that I fell for it. I’m such a deep sleeper though, and he gets me every damn time.

“That prank was stupid,” I sign to him. “But I’m not here because of that. We need to talk.”

He sits up in bed and reaches over to tilt his alarm clock so that he can check the time. He looks back at me, agitated. “It’s six-thirty in the morning,” he signs. “What the hell do you want to talk about at six-thirty in the morning?”

I point in the direction of the new roommate’s bedroom.

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-f*ck 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, *!” 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.