Maybe Not

  "Bend over a little more," I tell her.

  She does. She's such a fast learner.

  I wrap my fingers in her hair and twist my hand around until I have a fistful of it, and then I tug just enough to get her to lift her face. She whimpers when I do this, and that little whimper is all it takes for me to push into her, as far as I can go until she's completely full.

  "Make that sound again," I whisper.

  She doesn't, so I tug at her hair. The noise escapes her throat and it's so beautiful and full of desire. I pull out and push back into her, and the same sound passes her lips. I can't take it. I don't know if I can do this standing up, because that sound is making me dizzy.

  I cover one of her hands with mine and squeeze, giving myself the wall support I need to continue moving in and out of her. Every time she whimpers, I push into her a little bit harder. She begins to whimper, over and over, occasionally replacing that sound with my name, and I already know I'm gonna sleep like a rock tonight.

  Right when I feel myself growing close to release, I pull out of her and reposition her so that her back is against the door. I lift her legs and wrap them around my waist, sliding back inside of her with ease. I keep one arm wrapped around her waist to hold her up and my other hand pressed against the door for support. My tongue is fighting hers, and I'm swallowing every sound she's willing to give me.

  Her hands are gripping my neck, so I reach behind me and pull one of her hands away. I press her palm against her chest and slide it slowly down her stomach. My forehead meets hers, and I look her hard in the eyes. "Touch yourself."

  Her eyes grow wide, and she begins to shake her head. I place my hand on top of hers and I look down at where are bodies join together. I move her hand a few more inches until her fingers are right where I want them. "Please," I breathe out, desperately.

  I need my hand for support, so I pull it away and press it against the door beside her head. I'm still holding her around the waist with my other arm and slowly pushing in and out of her. Our foreheads are still pressed together, but now my eyes are planted on her hand as she timidly begins to move her fingers in a slow, circular motion.

  "Holy shit," I exhale. I watch her for a minute longer, until she starts to relax against her hand, and then I move my eyes back to her face. I pull away and stare down at her, watching as her head falls back against the door. Her eyes are closed and her lips are slightly parted and all I can feel in my heart is kiss her, kiss her.

  My lips come down gently against hers and she moans softly into my mouth. I tease her lips with the tip of my tongue, sliding it across her top lip and then her bottom. Her moans are becoming more frequent, and the more I press her against the door, the better I can feel her hand moving between us.

  I can't believe this is real life. I can't believe she lives five feet away from me and she's willing to give me this part of her. I'm the luckiest man in the world.

  She starts to whimper again, but this time my mouth is resting against hers and I take in every single one of the sounds she makes. She tilts her face more and more to mine, wanting me to kiss her hard, but I'm enjoying this too much. I love the way she looks right now, eyes closed, mouth open, heart exposed. I don't want to kiss her. I want to keep my eyes open and watch every second of this.

  I stop moving inside of her and wait for her to finish, because if I keep moving, I won't last another second. She begins to open her eyes, wondering why I stopped, so I lean in to her ear. "You're almost there," I whisper. "I just want to watch you."

  She relaxes again and I continue to watch her, soaking up every whimper and every moan and every movement she makes like I'm a sponge and she's my water.

  As soon as her legs begin to tighten around my waist, I grip her hips with both hands and resume moving inside of her. Her whimpers turn into moans, and her moans turn into my name and it takes us all of ten seconds before we're both shaking and gasping for breath and kissing and groping and then finally, sighing.

  Her body weakens in my arms and she lays her head against my chest. I bring my hand up to her neck and kiss her softly on top of the head.

  After a solid minute of working to catch our breath and regain the ability to move, I slowly begin to pull out of her. She lowers her feet to the floor and looks up at me. She's not smiling, but I can see the calmness behind her eyes. This was exactly what she needed. Exactly what I needed.

  "Thank you," she says, matter-of-factly.

  I grin. "You're welcome."

  She ducks her head as soon as she begins to smile, and slips under my arm. She enters the bathroom and closes the door behind her. I lean against the wall and slide down to the floor, completely unable to will my legs to make it back to the bed. If I didn't have to wait on her to finish in the bathroom, I'd fall asleep right here on the floor.

  Chapter Seven

  Three solid weeks.

  Twenty-one nights.

  Over thirty times we've had sex.

  Absolutely zero interaction during the day.

  I don't really understand her. I don't know her well enough to know what sets her off or, in turn, what makes her so quiet. I don't know why she refuses to treat what's going on between us like it's anything remotely significant, but I'm not complaining. I mean, come on. We have sex every night and I don't have to dote on her during the day. I would have the perfect setup if I didn't want just a little bit more from her. But until I can get to another level with Bridgette, I know nothing better come in between us. Especially a new roommate, which is what I'm afraid might happen. Brennan has officially gone on tour and moved out, which means his room is now up for grabs. I can't take the idea of Bridgette's sister moving in, which is something I've heard them discussing on the phone. I don't know what or whom Ridge has in mind, but I for sure don't think I can take the possibility of another guy moving in. As much as I want to pretend I'm as casual with this arrangement as Bridgette is, if another guy even looks at her ass in those shorts, I won't be able to refrain from beating his ass. And I'm not even the type of guy who fights other guys, but Bridgette makes me want to fight everyone. Even the nerdy guys. I'll hit all the humans if it means keeping up the arrangement I've got going with her.

  Which is why I can't stop staring at the couch right now. There's a person on it. I think it's a girl, because I see blond hair peeking out from under the pillow pulled over her face, but it could be a long-haired guy. A guy I don't want to be our next roommate. I continue to watch the couch, waiting for the person to wake up. I'm loud enough in the kitchen to wake up the whole apartment, but whoever is on this couch is sleeping like a rock.

  I finish pouring my bowl of cereal and bring it into the living room. Since whoever this is has decided to take up residence where I eat breakfast, I take a seat on the floor, right in front of the couch. I begin eating, crunching as loud as I can.

  I wonder if she or he is a friend of Bridgette's.

  No, Bridgette didn't bring anyone home last night. I know this because I picked her up after I got off work and we came straight home and went straight to my bed. Come to think of it, we didn't even turn on the living room lights, so I'm pretty sure whoever this is was probably on the couch last night, we just didn't notice.

  Oh, man. I wonder if we were loud? We never have to worry about how loud we are when Ridge is home.

  A groan comes from beneath the pillow and the body rolls over, facing me so I can see it is, in fact, a girl. I continue to sit on the floor, eating my cereal. I watch her attempt to open her eyes.

  "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.
br />   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."

  The door to Ridge's bedroom opens and I can see the girl's eyes widen slightly, as if she's nervous. That's probably not a good sign for Ridge, but he's so hung up on Maggie, adding this chick as a roommate shouldn't be an issue for any of us. I wink at her and stand up to walk my bowl back to the kitchen. I speak and sign at the same time. "Have you met our new roommate?"

  Ridge glances at her and then looks back at me. "Yeah," he signs. "She needs a place to stay, so I'll probably just let her use Brennan's room. Or if you want, she can take your room and you can take Brennan's, so we both aren't having to share a bathroom with girls."

  I shake my head. "No way are you putting me further away from Bridgette. Our bathroom sex is my favorite."

  Ridge shakes his head. "You're pathetic." He walks back to his room and I look at our new roommate.

  "What did he say?" she asks, nervously.

  "Exactly what I thought he'd say," I tell her. I walk to my room and grab my keys off the dresser. I glance into the bathroom and see Bridgette at the sink. I swing the door open and give her a quick kiss on the cheek. She tries to pull away from me, but I also see the smile tugging at her lips.

  My eyes fall to the black Sharpie sitting next to the sink. I pick it up and eye Bridgette suspiciously. She shrugs her shoulders and I laugh.

  I didn't think she had it in her, but after the water cup prank and now this, I fear I might have met my match. At least the new roommate is being hazed early.

  I close the bathroom door and head back out into the living room. "He says you two already worked out a deal." I point to Brennan's old room. "Heading to work now. That's your room if you want to put your stuff in it. You might have to throw all Brennan's shit in the corner, though." I open the door and step outside, but turn around before I close it. "Oh. What's your name?"

  "Sydney."

  "Well, Sydney. Welcome to the weirdest place you'll ever live."

  I close the door behind me, feeling slightly guilty that I may have swayed this roommate thing a little in my favor. But seriously. Not only does this ensure our new roommate won't be putting the moves on Bridgette, it also makes for an interesting dynamic. Two girls in a prank war may be the best thing that ever happened to Ridge and me.

  Chapter Eight

  "So, what's with the new roommate?" I sign to Ridge when I walk in the door.

  "She lives in the complex. Her boyfriend cheated on her and she needed a place to stay."

  I walk over to the table he's seated at and pull the chair out. "She still here?"

  He looks up from the laptop and nods. "Yeah, she'll probably be here for a few weeks, at least. That okay?"

  Something is off with him. When you've known someone most of your life, you can almost feel their unease. This Sydney girl makes him nervous, and I don't know why.

  "Is Maggie okay with it?"

  His attention quickly moves back to his laptop. He nods his head and stops signing. I push my chair out and glance at the door to see if Bridgette's shoes are where she always keeps them. They aren't. I tap Ridge on the shoulder. "Where's Bridgette?" I sign.

  He shifts in his seat. "Out."

  "Out where?"

  He shrugs. "Warren, do you really want to know? Because you aren't going to like it."

  I sit in the chair again. "Hell yes, I want to know. Where is she?"

  He leans back in his chair and sighs. "A guy picked her up about three hours ago. It looked like they were going out."
r />   "Out," I sign. "Out like on a date?"

  He nods.

  I suddenly want to punch Ridge, but I know he has nothing to do with it. I stand up and push the chair back under the table.

  She's on a date. Bridgette is on a fucking date.

  This is such bullshit. Why didn't I set boundaries? Why didn't I tell her she couldn't see other guys?

  What if she brings him back here? She will. She's so mean, she probably will.

  I grab my keys and sign to Ridge that I'll be back in a little while.

  I'll fix this.

  Somehow.

  *

  I'm seated on the couch two hours later when the door opens. As expected, she doesn't walk in alone. A guy is following behind her, way too close. His hand is on her lower back as she slips her shoes off at the door and looks straight at me. "Oh. Hey, Warren."

  She points to me. "Guy, this is Warren. Warren, this is Guy."

  I look at him. At all six-metro-sexual-douchebag-feet of him. "Your name is Guy?"

  He doesn't respond. He just looks at Bridgette like he's a little uncomfortable that he just walked into her apartment and a guy is sitting on her couch. I bet he'd be really uncomfortable to know what I was doing on this same couch with Bridgette just twenty-four hours ago.

  "Warren," Bridgette says in a sickeningly fake, sweet voice. "Do you mind giving us some privacy?" She glances toward my bedroom, silently asking if I'll go wait it out in there while she flirts in my living room with Guy. I narrow my eyes at her. She's doing this on purpose. She's testing me, and I'm about to ace this test.

  "Sure will, Bridgette," I say with a smile. I stand up and walk over to Guy, reaching out for his hand. "Good to meet you," I say to him. He smiles and his apprehension eases when he sees I've loosened up. "You kiddos have fun. I'll leave the bathroom door unlocked in case either of you needs to use it." I point toward the bathroom, planting the seed.

  Please, let him have to use the restroom. Please.

  Bridgette can see that my last comment was out of character. She squints her eyes at me as I retreat to my room. I close the door and stay right next to it. I'm not about to miss a second of this. If she's going to try and test me or torture me by bringing another guy home, she has to expect I'll eavesdrop on their entire conversation.

  I stand with my ear pressed to the door for at least fifteen minutes. In those fifteen minutes, I hear him go on and on about everything he's good at.