Hellion, a New Adult Romance Novel(41)

 

“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.