Free Maybe Not (Maybe #1.5) by Colleen Hoover

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.
    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