Brennan shrugs. “We still don’t know for sure, Warren. If it turns out she’s not his daughter, then Ridge will never even have to know about this.”
I nod, knowing full well that Brennan is right. Ridge has enough on his plate having to deal with Maggie’s issues, and until they know for sure, this isn’t something he should have to stress over.
“What happens to Bridgette?” I ask him. “If it turns out she’s not your sister.”
Brennan shrugs. “Then I guess she’s just our new roommate.”
I sit down on the bed and try to soak everything in. This changes everything. If she’s Ridge and Brennan’s sister, she won’t just be my roommate. She and her attitude and her tiny little Hooters shorts will be part of our lives forever.
I don’t really know how I feel about that.
“Are you sure she’s not just trying to swindle you?”
Brennan rolls his eyes. “That girl is just trying to survive, Warren. She’s had a really fucked-up life and even if it turns out we’re not related, she just needs someone to give her a chance. So please. You don’t even have to be nice to her. Just be understanding enough to allow her to live here.”
I nod and fall back onto the bed. Sister?
“So,” I say to Brennan. “I guess that means you definitely aren’t into her. Which means I can be.”
Brennan’s pillow meets my face. “You’re disgusting.”
Chapter Four
Brennan was right. I’m disgusting. I’ve never felt more disappointed in myself than I have these past two weeks. Since the moment I found out she might be Ridge and Brennan’s sister, I haven’t been able to stop staring at her. I keep trying to pinpoint mannerisms they have in common, or physical features, but the only thing I’ve noticed is how hot she looks in that Hooters outfit.
Which, in turn, makes me disgusted with myself, because thoughts of her in her uniform lead to some really strange dreams. Last night I dreamt I walked into the apartment and she was standing in the kitchen in those tiny orange shorts with her midriff showing. But when my eyes made it to her face, it wasn’t her face I was looking at. It was Brennan’s. He was smiling at me with a shit-eating grin, and right when I started gagging, Ridge walked out of his room wearing the same Hooters outfit.
I woke up after that and had to immediately go to the bathroom and brush my teeth. I don’t know why I thought brushing my teeth would help me, but whatever. This sibling thing is fucking with my head in more ways than it should. On the one hand, I think it would be cool if Ridge and Brennan had a sister. On the other hand, I don’t want that sister to be Bridgette. Mainly because I’m skeptical of the reasons she’s showing up out of the blue right when Brennan begins to make a name for himself. Does she have ulterior motives? Does she think he’s made of money?
Because as the band’s manager, I can assure her, he’s not. The money the band brings in goes right back into promotion and travel expenses. It’s at the point where they’re putting in so much time and effort, if it doesn’t start paying off during this next scheduled tour, it may be the last one they go on. Which is why I’m a little bitter when it comes to Bridgette, because I need Brennan’s focus to be on Sounds of Cedar and Ridge’s focus to be on writing the songs. I don’t want them caught up in family drama.
But dammit. Those shorts.
I’m standing in my bedroom doorway, watching her. She’s in the kitchen, talking on the phone while she makes herself something to eat. The phone is sitting on the counter and she’s on speaker with whomever is on the other line.
Bridgette hasn’t noticed I’m standing here, so until she does, I’m staying right here. Because seeing her have a normal, human conversation is something I’ve never witnessed before, and I can’t stop watching. Which is strange, because how many times a day do I see people having typical interactions with other humans? It says a lot about Bridgette’s personality that seeing her do something like this could actually be fascinating. She’d make an interesting anthropological study, considering she doesn’t seem to conform to how society expects a young woman to act.
“I can’t take living in this dorm,” the voice on speaker says. “My roommate’s a fruit loop dingus.”
Bridgette tilts her head toward the direction of the phone, but still doesn’t turn around to see me. “You can make it until you graduate.”
“And then we can get our own place?”
My ears perk up, hearing her mention the possibility of moving out. “We can’t afford our own place,” Bridgette says.