Read Maybe Not (Maybe #1.5) for Free Online

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 asshole.”
    “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 asshole 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 fucking 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.
    “Bridgette,” I whisper, wanting to say her name out loud. I don’t know how I hated her name before this moment, because it’s the most beautiful name I’ve ever said out loud.
    I pull away from her mouth and begin working my way down her sweet, sweet neck. As soon as I make it to her shoulder, she begins to push me away with her hands.
    Just like that, I snap back to reality and separate from her willingly.
    I move to the other end of the couch, needing the space to wrap my head around what the