Hellion, a New Adult Romance Novel (The Rebel Series) (16 page)

She looks scared.
 
“The dragon?”

The door to Colin’s apartment flies open and he steps out into the hall, dressed in workout gear with earbuds dangling from one ear.
 
His muscles couldn’t be any more out there for us to enjoy.
 
I roll my eyes.
 
He knows exactly what he’s going to do to any woman or gay man seeing him at that gym.

Alissa looks up and her expression goes from surprised to shocked to goo-goo, all in about two seconds.

I yank on her arm and speak in a growling whisper.
 
“I told you
not
to look at the dragon!”

“Who’s this?” Colin asks as he walks up to us.
 
He’s all effortless charm, giving Alissa the kind of smile that stops hearts.
 
He is
so
dangerous.
 
I’m seriously worried about her going into labor right now.
 
If she sees his painting skills, she’s done for.

I put my shoulders back to assert my position of power.
 
“This is a young lady who does not wish to talk to you.” I push her towards Rebel’s apartment and assert myself between them.
 
I hope to block her view of his glory so she doesn’t do something stupid and fall in love with him.
 
She already has enough on her plate, and I’m pretty positive guys like Colin are not into pregnant girls.

Alissa looks quickly at the ground, her face so pink she looks like she’s about to burst into flames.

“Hello, young lady who does not wish to talk to me.
 
I’m Colin.”

As the door is shutting in his face, thanks to the quick maneuvers of my right heel, Alissa answers.

“Nice to meet you too … Dragon.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I DON’T KNOW WHY I expect my life to be easy peasy.
 
Nothing ever goes as planned.

“Who’s this?” Mick asks as I walk into the family room with Alissa next to me.

Arranging my face to look as cool as possible, I gesture to the couch.
 
“Go ahead and have a seat, Alissa.
 
Rebel and Teagan will be right up.”

She looks at Mick with a tiny smile and then follows my orders.

“Mick, this is Alissa.
 
Alissa, this is Mick.
 
He’s Rebel’s brother.”

Mick walks over and holds out a hand.
 
“Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” she says, giving him what looks like a very limp handshake.

“Can I get you a drink of water or something?” he asks.

“Sure,” she says.
 
“That would be nice, thank you.”

He turns towards the kitchen and frowns at me when he’s no longer facing Alissa.
 
“Can I talk to you for a sec’, Quin?”

I shrug.
 
“Sure.”
 
Alissa’s already been through enough crap for one day.
 
I don’t want to make a scene in front of her by arguing with Mick, so I follow him.
 
Besides, I still need to apologize about twenty times before I’ll be able to comfortably live with myself again. Might as well get that party started.

He’s reaching into a cabinet above his head when I get to the kitchen.

“You wanted to talk to me?” I ask in a low tone so Alissa won’t hear us.

“Yeah.
 
What’s she doing here?
 
She’s pregnant, right?”

“Very observant of you.
 
Yes, she’s pregnant.
 
And she’s here temporarily until she can get her own place.”

He turns on the water.
 
“What about the father?”

“We’re not sure what the deal is with that yet, but her parents have shut her out and all her other friends have abandoned her.
 
She’s alone.”

He shuts the water off abruptly, looking at me like he doesn’t believe it.
 
“Why?”

I shrug.
 
“I haven’t given her the third degree yet, but if you have one of those really bright lamps I can shine in her face, I could get started right way.”

He frowns at me.
 
“Are you ever not a smartass?”

I act like I’m seriously considering the question.
 
After I few seconds, I answer. “Nope.
 
Never.”

He grins.
 
“Good.
 
I like smartasses.”

With just that one smile he deflates my fighting mood.
 
I put my arm out to stop him from leaving the kitchen.
 
“Mick, just let me apologize before you go out there.”

“For what?”

“For saying that awful thing I said to you last night.
 
It was inexcusable.”

He shrugs, his face going a little dark.
 
“No big deal.”

“No, it
was
a big deal.
 
It
is
a big deal.
 
I’m going to have nightmares for a week over it.
 
I’m an asshole.
 
You should know that about me up front.
 
I have a disease called speak-before-think-itis and it’s obviously not in remission right now.”

“I’m over it,” he says, moving into the family room again.

I’m left standing in the kitchen knowing that he is most definitely
not
over it.
 
And who can blame him?
 
It was heartless and cold.
 
One of my not-so-shining moments for sure.

I’m standing there chewing on my lip and stewing in self-hatred when he pops his head back into the kitchen.
 
“You
could
make it up to me, if it’s really bothering you.”

Rescue party!
 
Sweetness!
 
“Oh, yeah?
 
How?”

“Dinner.
 
Movie.
 
Tonight.
 
Otherwise, I’m probably going to lie in bed all night thinking about what you said.
 
I might even cry over it.
 
But you could distract me from all that by going out with me and keeping my mind off things.”

“You’re a bastard,” I say without anger.

“Yes or no?
 
I have water to deliver to a parched pregnant girl.”

“Fine. Yes. But I’ll meet you there.” The last thing I need is Jersey attaching himself again.
 
Knowing Mick, he’d invite the little turd along.

“Meet me there?
 
Where?”

“I don’t know where.
 
You tell me.”

“End of your driveway.
 
See you there at seven.”
 
He disappears before I can argue.

I stew in the kitchen for a few minutes until I hear Teagan come in. Putting my own issues on the back burner for now, I join the group so we can all weigh-in on Alissa’s situation.

Everyone finds a chair or a part of the couch before silence falls over the room.

Tick-tock … tick-tock … tick-tock.
 
I can literally feel myself aging.
 
Teagan’s eyes begin to cross, Rebel is staring holes into Alissa’s stomach, and Mick is very interested in the ceiling.

Holy awko taco, I can’t take any more of it.
 
“Sooo … Alissa.
 
You’re pregnant.
 
How far along are you?”

“About seven months,” she says before taking a sip of her water.
 
She keeps the glass up by her face.
 
I think she’s hiding behind it.

“Do you have a doctor?” Mick asks.

“Yes.
 
Kind of.
 
I go to a clinic.”

“Where are you going to have the baby?” I ask.
 
When everyone looks at me like I’m crazy, I explain. “My mom had all that stuff planned out way before the end of her pregnancy.”

“I don’t know.
 
I really don’t have any plans,” Alissa says.
 
She sounds embarrassed.

“Do you have insurance?” Teagan asks.
 
“Having a baby’s expensive at the hospital, right?”
 
She looks to me for confirmation, as if I have all the answers.

I nod sagely.
 
I don’t want to lose my position as insurance expert.

“I have basic insurance, but I don’t think it covers everything.”

“What are your parents saying about all this?” Mick asks.

Aaaaand cue the tears.

I roll my eyes at him.
 
“Honestly, Mick!
 
Do you think she’d be here sleeping on Rebel’s couch if they were being supportive?”

He stands up.
 
“How the hell do I know?
 
I didn’t even know she was taking the couch!
 
Jesus, would you get off my back already?”

I stand up to face off with him.
 
“Use your brain!
 
How about that for a plan, huh?”

Alissa’s wailing gets louder.

Teagan jumps up. “Okay!
 
Assholes … leave the room!”

I put my hands on my hips and glare at Mick.
 
“You heard her.
 
Out.”

“I’m including you in that group,” she says, looking at me.
 
“You and Mick, beat it.
 
Wait out in the hall or in my office.”

My jaw drops open.
 
“You can’t be serious.”

“Go work out whatever shit you have going on between you, or else,” she says, pointing at me.
 
“I am not playing.
 
You are my best friend and he is Rebel’s brother.
 
You don’t have to like each other but you do have to be nice.
 
Now go.”

I stick my bottom lip out as my eyebrows crinkle up and descend down to my eyelids.
 
“That is so unfair.
 
You have no idea what’s going on here.”

“Whatever.
 
You can yell at me later.”
 
Teagan crosses her arms.
 
“Go, or I’m gonna give you the biggest titty twister you’ve ever had before in your life.”

My hands fly up to protect the bubbly jubblies.
 
“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me,” she says, holding out her pinchers.

I move around the front of the chair and through the space made by the coffee table.
 
“Fine.
 
I’m outta here since you’re going to get all abusive on me.”

Mick is already at the door, holding it open for me.
 
I don’t trust my boobage to the free air until he’s closed it behind me.

“She’s really tough when she wants to be,” Mick says as we move down the stairs into the garage.

“I’m already making my plans for revenge.”
 
I’m fuming over being dismissed so easily.
 
How are they going to figure out what’s what without all my pregnancy knowledge?

Mick seems completely unconcerned.
 
By the time I get to the bottom of the stairs and sit in my own steam for a few seconds, he’s standing in front of an engine, staring down at it.

I walk over to be near him, curious about what he’s looking at and finding the space far away from him very lonely.
 
As I get closer, I feel warmer.
 
He’s like a pair of flannel pajamas or something.

“So, what do you think?” he asks, still staring at the engine.

I stop next to him and take a moment to consider all the metal parts and hoses stuck every which way.
 
Adopting my most serious tone, I answer him.
 
“I think this four-eleven is pretty tight.
 
You should restore it.”
 
I have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about.

“And what exactly is a four-eleven?”
 
He’s acting as serious as I am.

“You don’t know?” I ask, like he’s the dummy.

“No.
 
Educate me.”

I shake my head.
 
“I think you better go back to mechanic’s school.
 
Everyone knows what a four-eleven is.”

“I never went to mechanic’s school,” he says, grabbing a tool and reaching into the engine somewhere.
 
I can’t see where his hand is, but he’s cranking on something.
 
The muscles of his arms bulge and ripple with the effort, making my mouth go a little dry.

“How’d you learn how to do all this?” I ask, waving at the engine.

“Trial and error.
 
Rebel. Books.”

“Books?
 
You read books to learn how to repair cars?”

“Sure.” He pulls his arm out and looks at me.
 
He doesn’t seem very happy. “What …?
 
You think I can’t read?”

“No, of course I don’t think that.
 
I just didn’t think there were books about repairing cars.
 
But I guess that’s stupid, isn’t it?
 
There are books for everything these days.”
 
Being near Mick is once again making me stupid.
 
Maybe I should start wearing tinfoil on my head when he’s around.

He points to a bookshelf covered in dirty, very old looking books. “A company called Chilton makes manuals for every car there is, pretty much.
 
Tells you how to fix everything on the car.”

I go over to the shelf and pull one off.
 
“Seriously?”
 
I open it up and see a page with a weird engine part on it.
 
“Alternator,” I say out loud.
 
Looking up at him, I see him in a new light.
 
“You know how to fix alternators?”
 
It sounds very impressive since I don’t even know what one is or what it does.

“Yep.
 
I can repair old ones or install new ones, depending on what the customer wants.”