Hellion, a New Adult Romance Novel(86)

 

Alissa looks up at him, her chin going out and her eyes getting all squinty.

 

Fuck! She’s going to blow everything! I rush over to diffuse her anger. “Hey! Alissa! Look! Your juice is almost gone!”

 

She looks at me and then her glass, some of her anger being replaced by confusion. “So?”

 

“So, your blood sugar. It’s low. That’s not good, you know what the doctor said.”

 

“Quin, I’m fine.”

 

“Come to the bathroom with me.” I cross my legs to look convincing. I do my eyes too just to be sure. She’s a drama chick and all, so I have to give her the works.

 

“No, I don’t have to go.”

 

“But I do.” I take her by the arm and drag her with me. “Be right back!” I say, over my shoulder.

 

“Why are you doing this? I was just talking to him,” she says.

 

I stop when we’re far enough away that he won’t take it as an invitation to follow us. “I am saving you from being molested by a complete and total loser, Alissa. Trust me, you do not want to encourage him.”

 

“I’m a grown woman, Quin. I can take care of myself.” She jerks her arm away from me and backs up.

 

“You are a total dipshit, actually, and I am not going to be responsible for you losing your baby.” The words are out before I can stop them. Oopsy.

 

Her face goes mutinous. “You’re despicable.” She turns around and leaves me there. And now I really do have to go pee.

 

“Fine!” I yell at her back. “I’ll go to the bathroom myself!”

 

I grumble all the way in there, locking myself in the farthest stall from the door. This place smells like ass, and I can’t stand to do anything but quickly pee standing up before I’m ready to run out again. But voices come in along with a burst of loud music, and they’re giggling.

 

I pause with my finger over the lock.

 

“OMG, he is so cute. Did you see his eyes?!”

 

Another voice chimes in. “Did you see his tattoos? Oh my god, when he lifted his shirt and showed us that heart over his heart?” She pauses to gasp. “I almost had an orgasm. Right there in my chair, I swear to god.”

 

“Roxanne, you are bad,” the other voice says. “What’s his name again?”

 

“Mick, he said.” She sighs like a little girl in love. “Mick. Could he be any sexier? No, I don’t think so.”

 

My face goes red. She’s talking about my Mick. She desperately wants her face slapped and she doesn’t even know it. I lean my forehead on the door to try and collect myself. He’s doing recon. He’s helping Teagan. He’s doing exactly what I asked him to do. Do not get jealous, idiot.

 

“I’m going to take him into the corner and give him a little somethin’-somethin’,” the lovestruck girl says.

 

Roxanne. I hate that name. I’m going to end this now. I’m going to go out there and tell her all about herself and explain how my Mick wants nothing to do with her and how she doesn’t have a single chance in hell at getting him into any dark corners. He’s mine, mine, all mine and nobody else’s.

 

I lift my head off the cold steel door. It’s silent in the bathroom. I strain to hear sounds of the faucet running or girls planning sexy time in the corners of the club, but there’s nothing and no one there.

 

“Shit!” I fumble with the door, trying to get it open. It won’t budge. “No, no, no, no, noooo!” I whine, wiggling the metal until a piece falls off in my hand.

 

My mouth gapes open. “Holy shit, no! This is not happening!” I jiggle the piece that remains on the door, trying to fit the broken piece back in. The rest of the lock falls out and hits the floor, rolling off into the nearby stall.

 

I grab the top of the stall door and jump, trying to see over the edge of it. Total fail.

 

“Dammit! Too short!” Curse my defective DNA! I can’t see! Where did they go?! Is she putting her hands in Mick’s pants while I hang out with the stink-ass toilet seat? “Help me!” I yell. “Someone open the door! I’m locked in this shit hole!”

 

No one can hear my cries for rescue over the sound of the music and happy crowd.

 

I grab my purse from my shoulder and fish around for my phone. I want to cry when I come up empty. “Dammit! It’s in the car!” My voice has gone up into another octave. I cannot believe I am trapped in a bathroom that smells like sweaty construction worker asscrack while a ho-bag in a polyester mini-skirt steals my man.