TROUBLE, A New Adult Romance Novel (The Rebel Series) (16 page)

I shrug.
 
“Well, if you really want to know, there are
lots
of things going on.”

“Like what?”

“Like … I have cankles.”

“Cankles?”

I hold out my foot a little so he can admire the puffy view.
 
“Yeah.
 
That’s where your ankles get so swollen that you can’t tell the difference between them and your calves.”

He looks under the table.
 
“I can tell a difference.”

“Liar.
 
I also have spots on my face.”

He frowns as he stares at me.
 
“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.
 
Look.”
 
I point to my cheek and lean closer.
 
“It’s called the mask of pregnancy.”

“If you say so.”

“
And
, I have a dark brown line going right down the middle of my belly, from stem to stern.”
 
I nod with satisfaction.
 
That one will get him good.

He puts his chicken wrap down.
 
“Say what?”

“Yep.”
 
I’m still nodding.
 
“Big old brown line.
 
It’s probably permanent.”

“Get outta town.”
 
He wipes his hands off on his pants and licks his lips, grabbing the bit of lettuce that was sitting there.

“No, I’m serious.”

“I want to see it.”
 
He leans over sideways so he can look under the table again.

My hands fly up to rest protectively over my belly.
 
“No.
 
No way!”

“Yes, way.
 
Come on.
 
I don’t believe you.
 
You’re just trying to get me to feel sorry for you.”

 
I snort.
 
“As if.
 
I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.”

“Then show me the line.
 
Unless you’re just making stuff up because you think I’m stupid enough to believe everything I hear.”

“No, I don’t think you’re stupid.
 
But it’s true.
 
I have a line.
 
A
big
line.”

“Prove it.”

My jaw sticks out.
 
“I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

“No, you don’t, that’s true.
 
But if you want me to believe these ridiculous stories you’re telling, you’re going to have to ante up.”

I roll my eyes as I toy with a fry.
 
“You really don’t want to see it, trust me.”

“No, I really do.
 
Trust
me.
”

I chew on the inside of my cheek as I consider my options.
 
For some ridiculous reason, I want to show him the line.
 
I want to
not
be the only one outside of the clinic who’s seen it.
 
Plus, there’s some weird voice in my head telling me to get naked with Colin.
 
It’s getting louder every day.

“Come on, you know you want to show me,” he says in a sexy voice.

I laugh.
 
“You are a serious freak, you know that?”
 
God, it’s like he can read my mind.
 
My ears are burning.

Up next in his attempt to persuade me is his pitiful baby face. It’s quite powerful. “Please?
 
I’ve never seen a brown line before.
 
Heck, I’ve never seen a pregnant belly before.”

“Seriously?”
 
I’m not sure I believe him.
 
He’s been with so many girls…

He nods.
 
“Dead serious.”

“Fine.”
 
I roll my eyes.
 
“If you want to see it so bad, you can see it.”
 
I’m really embarrassed, but I turn sideways in my seat and lift up my shirt a little.

“What is that?” he asks, leaning over and touching the top of my pants.
 
I have maternity jeans on and the cotton panel in front is covering my bulging belly.

I slap his hands away.
 
“My pants, dummy.
 
Don’t touch.”

He laughs once.
 
“Those are some high pants, Melvin.”

I pause in my undressing.
 
“Excuse me, but if you’re going to mock the belly, you will not be permitted to
see
the belly.”

He holds his hands up in surrender.
 
“Not mocking the belly.
 
Could be mocking the pants though.”

I look down at them.
 
“They are intensely ugly, I’ll admit.
 
But they’re way more comfortable than regular jeans that cut me in half. I have to push those down below my belly and they slice right into me.”

“Can’t have that.
 
So where’s this mysterious brown line, eh?
 
All I see is pants everywhere.”

I can’t look at him.
 
I’m about to expose one of the most private parts of my body and I’m in a fast food restaurant.
 
Thank goodness it’s too early for the normal lunch crowd.
 
I reach up under the rest of my shirt and grab the top edge of my pants.
 
“Brace yourself,” I say.
 
“It’s going to be ugly.”

I pull the top of the panel down and expose my belly to the cool air of the restaurant. It makes the hair all over my body stand up with shivers. I’m staring down at the bulging skin of my stomach, noticing the line has gotten even darker than it was before.
 
Dammit.
 
It’s going to be black soon.

“See?
 
Told you so. Brown line.”
 
I look up, expecting him to be nodding in appreciation, but instead I’m staring into the face of a ghost.

His mouth his hanging open and he’s staring at my belly.

I yank up my pants and pull my shirt down quickly, my face flaming up red.
 
“Told you it was hideous.”

His expression makes him appear as if he’s still in shock. His voice is strangely flat. “I want to see it again.
 
I didn’t get a good look.”

Scowling at him, I turn back to face my food and pick up a fry.
 
My appetite is gone, but I’m going to pretend it isn’t.
 
“Shut up.”
 
I put what tastes like cardboard into my mouth and chew mechanically.

“No, I’m completely serious.
 
One more look.”
 
Now he sounds way too animated.

I can’t help but laugh.
 
“That sounds creepy.”

“Sorry.
 
But seriously, show me one more time.
 
I promise I won’t say a thing.”

I shake my head. “Nope.
 
Show’s over.”

“I didn’t see the brown line.”

“You are such a liar.” My smile is coming back, bit by bit, like it or not.

“No, I’m not.
 
I didn’t see anything but white.
 
Lots of white.”
 
He’s back to grinning.

“Nice.”
 
I shake my head.
 
“Mock the fat girl.
 
Good plan.”
 
I crumple up my garbage and start to throw it into the bag my burger came in, but Colin stops me with his hand over mine.

“You are not fat.
 
Why do you keep saying that?”

I pull my hand away because the warmth makes me uncomfortable when combined with his sincere expression.
 
“I can’t even fit behind the wheel of a car right now.”

“But that’s because there’s a baby in the way, not fat.
 
Why are you so mean to yourself?”

Tears rush to my eyes and I have to act very busy with the remnants of my meal to keep them from being too obvious.
 
“I’m not mean to myself.
 
I’m just being honest.”

“That’s not how I see it.”

“Well, maybe your perspective is off.”

“Nope. My perspective is perfect.
 
I’m an artist.
 
You’re pregnant, you hardly eat, you’re retaining water because you don’t get enough exercise
and
because you’re pregnant, but none of that makes you fat.
   
You’re beautiful.
 
Pregnancy looks good on you.”

I nearly choke on that word.
 
Beautiful
.
 
I have nothing to say in response to his outrageousness.
 
I desperately want this to be the truth, but just the same, I desperately know it’s all a lie.
 
What I can’t figure out is why he’s bothering.

“Show me the belly,” he says. “One more time, I promise I won’t call you fat.”

“You never have,” I say, my voice not quite right.
 
He’s never said anything unkind to me ever. I realize in this moment that he is the nicest person I have ever met in my whole life.
 
As tough and as mean as he can be to other people, he’s never been anything but a prince to me.
 
The apocalypse must be coming.
 
Nothing makes sense in this world as it is right now.

“See?
 
I’m a safe bet.
 
Just a peek. If you don’t, I’m going to have to Google it and then things could get ugly.”

“Google it?
 
What?
 
Google my belly?
 
I’m not on Google.”
 
I frown at him.
 
Now he’s just being silly.

“No, I’ll Google ‘brown line on pregnant belly’.
 
Do you know the weird shit that will come up if I do that?
 
I’ll be scarred for life.
 
Not every woman has a gorgeous bump like you do.
 
Just show me.”

I’m flattered beyond reason.
 
I can’t think straight.
 
He’s called me beautiful and gorgeous all in the space of five minutes.
 
I know he’s a world-class charmer and a player of the highest degree, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling like a complete nincompoop.
 
My head is spinning and my hand is already moving towards the bottom of my shirt.

“Fine. One look.
 
Last time ever.”

“Okay,” he agrees, nodding. “If you say so.”

“I
do
say so.”

“Fine.
 
I agree to your terms.”
 
He folds his hands and puts them on the table in front of him, right on top of all the wrappers and food he still has remaining.

“You’re nuts,” I say as I lift up my shirt.

This time I look right at him from the start.

This time he doesn’t turn into a ghost.

“Well, would you look at that…
 
A brown line.
 
Right down the center of your belly.”
 
He reaches out to touch it, but I slap his hand away.

“Don’t touch.”

“Why? Does it hurt?”
 
His hand is still hovering very close.

“No, of course not.”

“I just want to … feel … it…”
 
His hand comes closer, and this time I let it.

His finger touches the line and slowly makes its way down towards my protruding belly button.

My whole body is on fire now.
 
Not just my face, but my chest, my breasts, my arms, my legs and the space between them.
 
Colin has found my hot button apparently.

And then he gets to my belly button and I go instantly cold at the idea of him even seeing it, let alone touching it.

I shove my shirt down and knock his hand away at the same time.
 
“Freak show over,” I say, standing up and grabbing my tray.
 
The panel of my pants is gathered at my hips, but I leave it.
 
I just want to escape.

“Hey, I was just getting started,” he says, standing up too.
 
He walks with me over to the garbage can, full of good humor.
 
He’s not one bit uncomfortable, unlike me.
 
I want to lock myself into a closet and not come out until he’s two counties away.

“That’s what you think,” I say, trying to play off my embarrassment.
 
I cannot believe he almost touched my outie.
 
I try to walk back to the table, but he stops me with a hand on my arm.

“You’re beautiful, Alissa.
 
Really beautiful.
 
I wish you’d stop being mean to yourself.”

I yank my arm away.
 
“Better get back to work.
 
Don’t want you to get fired.”
 
He’s being too nice.
 
It’s making me uncomfortable.
 
Before, when he was ignoring me and treating me like I had a disease, he was much easier to handle.
 
Being all nice and caring makes him very threatening all of a sudden.
 
I imagine I can still feel his fingers on my stomach.
 
It makes my heart cramp up in my chest.
 
It means nothing to him, I know it does, but it feels like everything to me.

“Aren’t you coming back too?”
 
He stands next to the table as I carefully lower myself back into my chair.

“No.
 
I’m waiting for someone.”

“Who?”
 
His happiness is quickly replaced by suspicion.

“Charity.
 
She and I are going to talk about her adoption.”

He glances up and looks out the windows of the restaurant.
 
“Speak of the devil.”

I twist around in my seat to see her coming up the sidewalk.
 
“She’s early,” I say, worried at the expression on her face.
 
I get up to meet her at the door.
 
“Are you okay?” I ask as she walks in.