Maybe Not

Informationen zum Autor Colleen Hoover is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of more than twenty-three novels, including It Starts with Us , It Ends with Us , All Your Perfects , Ugly Love , and Verity . Colleen lives in Texas with her husband and their three boys. For more information, please visit ColleenHoover.com. Klappentext "When Warren has the opportunity to live with a female roommate, he instantly agrees. It could be an exciting change.Or maybe not." Especially when that roommate is the cold and seemingly calculating Bridgette. Tensions run high and tempers flare as the two can hardly stand to be in the same room together. But Warren has a theory about Bridgette: anyone who can hate with that much passion should also have the capability to "love "with that much passion. And he wants to be the one to test this theory. Will Bridgette find it in herself to warm her heart to Warren and finally learn to love? Maybe. Maybe not."--Provided by publisher.Maybe Not Chapter One I'm convinced that hell has an intercom system and the buzz of my alarm clock is played at full volume on repeat against the screams of all the lost souls. Which is why I'll never murder anyone, because there's no way I can live with this sound for eternity. I can't even live with it for five seconds. I reach over and stop the alarm, dreading another day at work. I hate that I have to keep this shitty barista job just to pay for school. At least Ridge lets my sporadic rent checks slide in exchange for my managing his band. It works for now, but God, I hate mornings. I stretch my arms, bring my hands to my eyes, and begin rubbing the sleep out of them. When my fingers meet my eyes, for a split second I think maybe my worst fears have come true and I'm actually burning in hell, because SHIT! Motherfucker! I'm going to kill him! Ridge! I scream. Oh, God. It burns. I stand up and attempt to open my eyes, but they're stinging too badly for them to be of any use. It's the oldest prank in the book, and I can't believe I fell for it. Again. I can't find my shortsGod it hurts so badso I stumble my way to the bathroom in order to wash the pepper juice from my eyes and hands. I find the doorknob and swing the door open, rushing straight to the sink. I'm pretty sure I hear a girl scream ing, but that very well could be me screaming. I cup my hands beneath the stream of water and bring them up to my eyes, rinsing them over and over until the burn starts to subside. Once my eyes begin to feel relief, my shoulder starts to ache from the repeated blows being delivered to it. Get out, you pervert! I'm awake enough now to know that I actually did hear a girl screaming, and now that girl is hitting me. In my bathroom. I grab a hand towel and press it to my eyes while I shield her punches with my elbow. I was peeing, you sick bastard! Get out! Shit, she hits hard. I still can't really see her, but I can recognize fists when they're flying at me. I grab both of her wrists to keep her from assaulting me even more. Stop hitting me! I yell. The bathroom door that leads to the living room swings open and my left eye is working enough that I can tell Brennan is standing there. What the hell is going on? He walks toward us and removes my hands from her wrists and then stands between us. I bring the towel back to my eyes and squeeze them shut. He barged in on me while I was peeing! the girl yells. And he's naked! I open one eye and glance down. I am, in fact, completely naked. Jesus, Warren. Put on some clothes, Brennan says. How was I supposed to know I'd be...

Autorentext

Colleen Hoover is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of more than twenty-three novels, including It Starts with Us, It Ends with Us, All Your Perfects, Ugly Love, and Verity. Colleen lives in Texas with her husband and their three boys. For more information, please visit ColleenHoover.com.

Klappentext

"When Warren has the opportunity to live with a female roommate, he instantly agrees. It could be an exciting change.Or maybe not." Especially when that roommate is the cold and seemingly calculating Bridgette. Tensions run high and tempers flare as the two can hardly stand to be in the same room together. But Warren has a theory about Bridgette: anyone who can hate with that much passion should also have the capability to "love "with that much passion. And he wants to be the one to test this theory. Will Bridgette find it in herself to warm her heart to Warren and finally learn to love? Maybe. Maybe not."--Provided by publisher.

Zusammenfassung
Colleen Hoover, the New York Times bestselling author of Maybe Someday, brilliantly brings to life the story of the hilarious and charismatic Warren in this new novella.

When Warren has the opportunity to live with a female roommate, he instantly agrees. It could be an exciting change.

Or maybe not.

Especially when that roommate is the cold and seemingly calculating Bridgette. Tensions run high and tempers flare as the two can hardly stand to be in the same room together. But Warren has a theory about Bridgette: anyone who can hate with that much passion should also have the capability to love with that much passion. And he wants to be the one to test this theory.

Will Bridgette find it in herself to warm her heart to Warren and finally learn to love?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Leseprobe
Maybe Not

Chapter One

I’m convinced that hell has an intercom system and the buzz of my alarm clock is played at full volume on repeat against the screams of all the lost souls.

Which is why I’ll never murder anyone, because there’s no way I can live with this sound for eternity. I can’t even live with it for five seconds.

I reach over and stop the alarm, dreading another day at work. I hate that I have to keep this shitty barista job just to pay for school. At least Ridge lets my sporadic rent checks slide in exchange for my managing his band. It works for now, but God, I hate mornings.

I stretch my arms, bring my hands to my eyes, and begin rubbing the sleep out of them. When my fingers meet my eyes, for a split second I think maybe my worst fears have come true and I’m actually burning in hell, because SHIT! Motherfucker! I’m going to kill him!

“Ridge!” I scream.

Oh, God. It burns.

I stand up and attempt to open my eyes, but they’re stinging too badly for them to be of any use. It’s the oldest prank in the book, and I can’t believe I fell for it. Again.

I can’t find my shorts—God it hurts so bad—so I stumble my way to the bathroom in order to wash the pepper juice from my eyes and hands. I find the doorknob and swing the door open, rushing straight to the sink. I’m pretty sure I hear a girl screaming, but that very well could be me screaming.

I cup my hands beneath the stream of water and bring them up to my eyes, rinsing them over and over until the burn starts to subside. Once my eyes begin to feel relief, my shoulder starts to ache from the repeated blows being delivered to it.

“Get out, you pervert!”

I’m awake enough now to know that I actually did hear a girl screaming, and now that girl is hitting me. In my bathroom.

I grab a hand towel and press it to my eyes while I shield her punches with my elbow.

“I was peeing, you sick bastard! Get out!”

Shit, she hits hard. I still can’t really see her, but I can recognize fists when they’re flying at me. I grab both of her wrists to keep her from assaulting me even more.

“Stop hitting me!” I yell.

The bathroom door that leads to the living room swings open and my left eye is working enough that I can tell Brennan is standing there. “What the hell is going on?” He walks toward us and removes my h…