Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
“Or maybe,” Kipp interjects, tossing me a displeased scowl during his pause, “we might wanna talk about your car instead?”
The sigh that precedes her question is heavy. Too heavy. Damn sure too heavy for someone her size to ever be carrying around. “Is this the part of the conversation where you tell me there’s good news and bad news?”
“This is where I simply tell you I have news.”
Which is Kipp’s version of the very shit she just said.
“I’m listening, Baby Driver.”
It’s my turn to chortle while he bites at our waiting beauty, “You know I’m not that much younger than you.”
“How would you know?”
“Read your service paperwork after you fell asleep,” he freely admits on a shrug.
“Not sure if that’s creepy or romantic,” Bunny casually comments while picking up my mug. “I’m leaning towards the latter, but honestly, have more experience with the former.” She has a sip as if the hot mixture was hers all along. “And you’re assuming I didn’t lie about any of the information I listed.”
I loathe seeing the hint of disappointment in The Kid’s crystal gaze. “Did you?”
“So, what’s the news, Kid?” Bunny opts out of answering to no sticker shock. “Quick fix?”
His cringe answers the question before his words can. “Long fix.”
“How long?”
“Really long?”
“That’s not a measurement of time,” the tongue ring having pain in the ass huffs between slurps. “What are we talking? Like a day? Two?”
“A week if I’m lucky.”
“What?!”
“Two if I’m not.”
“Ohmygod, seriously?!?”
While I enjoy seeing her upset – because I admit she somehow looks even more sexy when she’s spewing fire and glaring and telling the world to get fucked with a look – no part of me is enjoying this.
I don’t wanna see her hurt.
Or hurting.
I don’t know why.
I just…don’t.
The same way I don’t like to see The Kid going through anything.
I don’t like the way it makes me feel.
And I damn sure don’t like the way I know they’re feeling.
“Your car is…” my roommate stumbles around to find the right wording, hands following suit, “well…it’s uh…” More hand gestures. More winces. “It’s um…”
“Just honk the horn, Kid,” I insist and motion for her to give me back my drink.
“Fucked.”
“Is that the professional term?” Bunny sasses as she returns the cup to my possession, fingertips lightly brushing against mine.
“It’s the honest one.” Kipp announces yet stops to swallow some unknown emotion spiked by the sight of our touches briefly meeting. “Your battery is dead. Your alternator is faulty. Your fuel pump is failing. And your tires are practically fucking bald.”
Horror doesn’t hesitate to appear in her expression.
“How you made it as far as you did for as long as you did is a car gods miracle you might wanna thank them for.” His hands find their way to his gray work pants pockets. “I gotta put in a parts request with my contact in Crystal Waters when his shop opens but between waiting on those to arrive and me installing everything – even working afterhours to get it done – you’re still lookin’ at least a week here.”
Frustrated grumbles are attached to her balling her fists. “You mean to tell me I’m stranded here for at least seven. Fucking. Days?”
Kipp’s reluctant to answer but who could blame him. “Yeah…”
“Here.” Extending the beverage back to her is sincerely done. “You’re gonna need this more than I am today.”
The most that manages to escape her naturally plump lips is a tiny squeak.
What?
I’m helping.
“Take it,” I command prior to pulling out my cell that’s getting a text. “And I’m gonna take this.”
My proclamation seems to snap her out of her momentary shock. “Someone needs a tow already?”
“Someone always needs a tow, babe.” The thoughtlessly muttered term of endearment is one I’m just going to pretend I didn’t make. Because if I pretend it didn’t happen, then it didn’t. It’s that simple. “Rules of the road.” Rather than stick around to be ridiculed about the name – one I never even used with my ex-girlfriend – I head for my truck. “And you two need to find somewhere for her to stay.”
“Done,” Kipp declares so fast that I can’t stop myself from halting.
Turning back to face him.
Hitting him with a disapproving glare and a slow headshake. “No.”
“What do you mean no?” Bunny curiously asks and lifts the cup to her lips.
“He knows what I mean.”
“And I know Mrs. Wayland doesn’t have any vacancies.”
“Do you actually know that or just assumin’ shit?”
“Pretty sure.”
“Pretty sure, isn’t sure, Kid. Call her.”
“Nah,” he defiantly brushes off forcing my jaw to the ground.
Who the fuck is this guy, and where is the one that trusts me to call all the shots?
To do the heavy lifting and guiding and deciding around here?
Is he tied up in the trunk of her vehicle?
Did she give him a midnight hummer that just completely burned out his brain?!