TROUBLE, A New Adult Romance Novel (The Rebel Series) (6 page)

“Like what?” I ask.

“I don’t know.
 
It’s silly.”

“Tell me.”
 
I smile to encourage her.
 
I really want to know what she’s thinking, which is rare these days.
 
Usually I want people to stop sharing with me and just leave me alone.

“I feel like I’m going to meet the right person and have a feeling, you know?
 
Like God will lead me to her or him and then I’ll just know.”

“Yeah.
 
I know what you mean.”
 
I
used
to know what she means, actually, but I’m not going to burst her bubble and say that out loud.
 
I used to believe in magic and true love and everything working out for people who try hard and trust in the process.
 
Now I know better.
 
But she’s young and she seems smart, so maybe things can work out differently for her.
 
Just because my life dreams turned into nightmares, it doesn’t mean everyone’s have to.

“I met a really nice lady today who wants to adopt,” I say, trying to drag my brain out of the unhappy place it’s straying into.

“Really?
 
But I thought you said you weren’t going to do that?”

“Oh, it wasn’t because I was looking for that.
 
I was just at the grocery store.”

“They have adoption meetings there?”
 
She folds her straw wrapper into tiny squares as she waits for my explanation.

I laugh.
 
“No, no, nothing like that.
 
I was just in the tampon aisle and she commented how I shouldn’t need those in my condition and we started talking.
 
She felt the baby move and nearly had an emotional breakdown.”

“Oh, that’s rough.”

“Yeah.
 
It was really sad.
 
She said that she and her husband have been trying for years to have a baby but it just wasn’t going to happen.”
 
I shrug as my mind travels down memory lane, seeing her face again and her perfect hairband.
 
I don’t know why, but that really spoke to me, the way she wore her hair like mothers did fifty years ago.
 
She was so conservative but so open at the same time.
 
“She really, really wanted to be a mom. And I got the idea that she’d make a good one, you know?”

“Yeah.
 
Sometimes ladies just give off a vibe,” Charity says.
 
“Like soccer mom stuff going on with a mini-van and stuff.”

I point at her in my excitement.
 
“She totally had a mini-van!”

“Seriously?”
 
Charity laughs with me.
 
“That’s funny.
 
You should have gotten her number.
 
I could call her up.”

An idea begins to form in my mind.
 
“I didn’t get her number or even her name.
 
But I do know where she shops.”
 
I shrug again, suddenly shy and feeling silly.
 
“I mean, if you’re serious about maybe meeting someone to adopt your baby.”

Charity picks up a french fry that fell out of its bag and takes a small bite, slowly chewing on it as she thinks.
 
“Well … I am almost ready to pop.
 
I should probably find someone before the baby is born.”

“I think that’s probably best,” I say.

“And I did say to myself that I would trust God to put the right person in my path.
 
And here you are having a hamburger when I’m having a hamburger.”

I smile weakly.
 
“Actually I’m just having an ice water, but I’m here, right?”

“Exactly.
 
You didn’t even want to eat anything, and yet here you are.”
 
She smiles.
 
“I’m kind of excited about this.”

“I am too.”
 
A spark inside me flames up a little.
 
I feel energized, and for the first time in weeks, I don’t want to go take a two-month nap after taking a walk.

“You need to give me your number.”
 
She pulls out her cell phone and stops, her thumb poised over the keys.

“I don’t have one.
 
I had to give it up when I ran out of money.”
 
I want to shrivel up at that admission.
 
I’ve told everyone else I don’t have one because the radiation isn’t good for the baby.

“You have a friend with a
 
phone though, right?”

Movement outside the window catches my attention.
 
Colin is walking up the sidewalk, staring at me through the glass.

“Yes.
 
I have a friend with a phone.”
 
I pray Colin won’t mind being an adoption hotline for a few weeks.
 
“He’s right there.”

Charity looks to where I’m pointing.
 
Her voice goes all soft.
 
“Well, no wonder you aren’t giving your baby up.”
 
She looks at me.
 
“Girl, are you brain damaged or something?”

“What?” I have no idea what she’s talking about.

“Marry that man.
 
Marry him
today
.”
 
She looks back at him.
 
“Mmm-mmm-mmm, I don’t even like white guys in general, but he is too fine.”

I laugh.
 
“And he’s deathly afraid of pregnant girls, so don’t look him in the eye when he comes in or he’s likely to run the other direction.
 
And he’s not the father of my child either, so … yeah…”

He opens the door and comes right for us.

“Lordy, lordy. You need to put some make-up on or something, catch you a husband.”
 
Charity finishes giving me advice just as he walks up.

“You okay?” he asks me, barely sparing a glance for Charity.

“Yes.” I act like it’s no big deal that he tracked me down to check on me. I’m sure he thinks nothing of it.
 
Who cares that my heart is racing a mile a minute? My heart is stupid and doesn’t know any better.
 
“Can I use your phone for a minute?”
 
I hold out my hand.

He pulls it out of his front pocket and hands it to me without a word.

“Here,” I say, giving it to Charity.
 
“Call yourself and log in the numbers.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she says, taking the phone from me and grinning.

“What’s up?” Colin asks as Charity does her thing.
 
He’s looking at her now, watching as she works with his phone.

“This is Charity.
 
She and I are going to stalk a grocery store together.”

Colin stares at me for a long time, but he doesn’t say anything.
 
His eyes are dark, so I know he’s not happy.
 
He’s really, really good-looking when he’s cranky.
 
Now that I think about it … when is he ugly?
 
That’s an easy question to answer:
Never
.
 
Never ever.

Charity gives him his phone back.
 
“There you go.
 
You can find me under Charity.”
 
She winks at him.

He gives her a small smile, which he knows very well is designed to melt hearts.

“Damn, boy.
 
You’re good.”
 
She grins at him and then at me.
 
“Welp, I have to go to class. I’ll call you later.”

“Class?
 
You’re still in school?” I ask.
 
I check my watch; it’s after four o’clock.

“Yeah.
 
I have night school. That’s where they hide all the pregnant girls.” She stands.
 
“You know, because pregnancy is contagious.”
 
She says the last word right by Colin’s ear as she’s leaving the table with her tray of garbage.

He moves to the side a little, almost as if he believes her.

I can’t help but laugh.

“What just happened in here?” he asks, looking warily at her back as she waddles off.

I stand up and brush invisible crumbs off my clothes.
 
“I just made a friend and started an adoption agency.”

He grabs my arm and pulls me to him.
 
It surprises me so much, I fall sideways.
 
The only thing keeping me from hitting the ground is his solid chest.

“Hey!”

“You’re not giving your baby up for adoption!” he says loudly right at my face.

I get back solidly on my feet and jerk my arm from his grasp.
 
“That’s none of your business, Colin!”

He glares at me and I glare right back, both of us oblivious to anyone who might be watching.

“I’m not kidding,” he says in a much quieter voice.

“Me neither. Now
get
out of my way.”
 
I try to push him, but it’s about as effective as me trying to move one of the bolted-down tables.

“Did you eat?” he asks.

I’m taken aback by the abrupt change of subject.
 
Anger is replaced by confusion.
 
“What?”

“Did you eat?”
 
His jaw is tense and his eyes full of fire.
 
I’m melting under the heat.

I look down at my empty cup.
 
“Kind of.”

He follows my gaze and then his expression softens just the smallest bit.
 
“Ice water doesn’t count.”

“Fine.”
 
I lift my chin. “I didn’t eat, then.”

“Stay here.”
 
He leaves me at the table and walks over to the counter.

I’m tempted to abandon ship and walk back to Rebel Wheels. I’m measuring my odds of escape and success when Colin turns around and talks loudly so I’ll hear him across the restaurant.

“Just so you know, Teagan just made cranberry bran muffins.”

I sit down, knowing I’m defeated.
 
The only way I’m going to get out of taste-testing one of those monstrosities is to be able to say I’m too full from the lunch Colin bought me.

Colin: 1

Me: 0

CHAPTER FIVE

THE BURGER AND FRIES COLIN delivers to me are surprisingly easy to eat.
 
Normally I’d have to choke down any food from a place like this, but for some reason today my appetite is back.
 
It’s been missing for several months.

“I’m going to have to take you here more often,” Colin says, taking a sip of his drink as he watches me over the lid.

“Ew, why?
 
This place is horrible.”
 
I eat three fries at a time.
 
I can’t seem to keep from shoving them into my face.
 
My manners have abandoned me, and I just don’t care enough right now to do anything about it.

“Because, it’s the only time I’ve actually seen you eat anything.
 
Maybe you need sodium or something.
 
I know you need some fat.”
 
He looks down at my legs under the table.

I pull my feet in closer, sliding them as far under the seat as I can.
 
“You must be joking.
 
My legs are like sausages.”

“You’re too skinny,” he says.

My face heats up and I drop the fry I was about to inhale.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, putting his drink down.

“I don’t know if you’re mocking me or being serious.”
 
His comment makes me want to cry.
 
Either option is completely terrible.

“I’m dead serious.
 
You hardly eat.
 
You’re supposed to be eating for two or whatever.”
 
He picks up one of my fries that fell out of the bag and throws it into his mouth.

“I eat plenty.
 
And if I keep eating too much I’m going to weigh two hundred pounds after the baby’s born.”

“So?
 
Curves are good.”

As a girl who’s been battling the booty bulge for most of her life, this does not compute.
 
I roll my eyes.
 
“Please.
 
Spare me.”
 
This is crap guys say to girls just to make them feel better about being fat.
 
He’s not fooling me one bit.

“I’m serious.
 
No guy wants to be with a stick figure.”

“Lie.
All
guys want to be with a stick figure. Just look at the magazines and movies and TV shows.”
 
I throw the rest of the burger down onto my tray. Even the simple idea of my big old butt makes me lose my appetite.
 
I stopped looking at it in the mirror months ago, but my memory of it is still very clear.

He shakes his head, like he pities me.

“What?” I say, annoyed.

“You girls … so clueless.
 
TV shows and magazines put those chicks on there for
you girls
, not for us guys.
 
Give me a girl with some meat on her bones any day of the week and I’ll be a happy camper.”

I huff out a breath of annoyance.
 
“Colin, I have news for you.
 
Just because you have that face of yours and all that, it doesn’t mean you can just say what you want, when you want, to whomever you want, okay?
 
There’s such a thing in the world as manners.
 
You should learn some and use them.”
 
I start balling up my garbage, annoyed that he’s forced me to lecture him.
 
I don’t even know that my lecture made sense.
 
He gets me all messed up in the head when he starts looking at me like that.

“I have manners.”

It irks me that he’s not at all put off by my admonishments.
 
He really is nervy the way he just sits there and smiles all sexy-time at me.
 
He knows way too much about how to charm women; it’s downright annoying to be manipulated like that.
 
Women with meat on their bones.
 
As if.