I didn’t prepare for this. I knew she’d be mad, but I’m not sure I can defend myself against her physically if we were in a real fight.
I sit up straight and watch in fear as she walks swiftly toward me. She kneels down onto the couch and slides her leg across my lap, straddling me.
I’m so confused.
Her hands meet my cheeks and she sighs. “I can’t believe I’m falling in love with such a stupid, stupid asshole.”
My heart wants to rejoice, but my mind is pulling on the reins.
Falling in love.
With an asshole.
A stupid, stupid asshole.
Holy shit! That’s me!
I wrap my hands around her head and pull her mouth to mine at the same time that I stand up and begin making my way into my bedroom. I shut the door behind us and walk over to the bed and drop her on it. I take off my shirt and throw it on the floor.
“Say it again.” I slide on top of her and she smiles, touching my face with the palms of her hands.
“I said I’m falling in love with you, Warren. I think. I’m pretty sure that’s what this is.”
I kiss her again, frantically. Those are the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard come out of another human. I pull back and look at her again. “But you wanted to kill me five minutes ago. What changed?” I lift up onto my hands. “Did Sydney pay you to say that? Is this a prank?” My heart stops. Bridgette shakes her head.
I would die. I would literally die if she took them back. I would die so much better than Brody dies, because my death would be actual death.
“I just . . .” Bridgette pauses, searching for the right words. “I’ve been thinking this whole time that maybe you were messing around with Sydney. But after talking to her, I know that’s not true. And she also mentioned that one night when you were drunk, you said you might love me. And that just . . . I don’t know, Warren.”
God, I love this. I love her nervousness. I love her hesitation. I love that she’s talking to me so openly. “Tell me, Bridgette,” I say quietly, urging her to finish what she was saying. I roll onto my side and lift up onto my elbow. I brush the hair away from her forehead and lean forward to kiss it.
“When she said that, it made me feel . . . happy. And I realized that I’m never happy. I was an unhappy child and I’m an unhappy adult and nothing in my life makes me feel the way you do. So I just . . . I think that’s what this feeling is. I think I’m falling in love with you.”
A small droplet of a tear escapes from the corner of her eye and as much as I want to bottle it up and save it for all of eternity, I pretend not to notice it, because I know that’s what she would prefer. I kiss her lips again before pulling back and looking her directly in the eyes. “I’m falling in love with you, too.”
She smiles and reaches her hand up to the back of my head, slowly pulling my mouth to hers. She kisses me softly and then gently pushes me onto my back. She eases herself on top of me and presses her hands against my chest.
“I think I should clarify that I never said I was in love with you. I just said I was falling in love with you. There’s a difference.”
I grab her by the hips and pull her closer. “The only difference between falling in love and being in love is that your heart already knows how you feel, but your mind is too stubborn to admit it.” Then I whisper in her ear. “But take all the time you need. I have nothing but patience for you.”
“Good, because I’m not telling you I love you yet. Because I don’t. I might be on my way to that point, but anything could derail that.”
I can’t help but smile and kiss her after that little disclaimer.
After a few more minutes of kissing, she turns her head to the side and holds up a finger, silently asking me to stop. She pulls away and sits up on the bed, hugging her knees. She lays her head on her arms and squeezes her eyes shut. She’s quiet for several moments, and her reaction is unusual for her. She looks guilty. She doesn’t ever look guilty because she’s always too angry to feel any sense of guilt.
“What’s the matter?” I ask her.
She quickly shakes her head. “I’m the worst person in the world,” she whispers. She turns her head toward mine, slowly. I don’t like the look on her face.
She begins to scoot off the bed and I feel my heart dragging behind her. “It was a prank, Warren,” she says softly as she stands.
I rise up onto my elbows. “What do you mean?”
She turns to face me and her eyes are so full of shame, she can’t even look at me without wincing. “I was trying to get back at you for letting me think Sydney was deaf.” She opens the bathroom door and looks down at her feet. “I said all that because I was mad at you, not because it’s really how I feel. I’m not falling in love with you, Warren.”