Chapter 5
Nolan
Funny thing about living and working and damn near doing everything with someone?
You grow this ability to just know they’re there even when they’re not speaking.
Even when they’re just looming at the edge of your tiny ass kitchen near the coffeemaker you need, throwing daggers at the back of your head because you somehow went from asshat to asshole while you were sleeping.
Pretty sure that’s not what the old ass movie was about.
I silently suck on my teeth and wait for the kid to inevitably speak.
“You outta be nicer to her.”
“Yeah?” Turning to face him is followed by crossing one foot in front of the other. “Maybe you outta be less nice, Kid.”
“Maybe I’m just the right amount of nice.”
“No. The right amount of nice was lettin’ her in to take a leak last night after you thought I was out. Not makin’ her ass a plate of our food and playin’ ‘please touch my monkey wrench’ until one in the morning.”
“What’s wrong, Nolan?” He folds his arms across his chest and leans his ass against the small island that houses our coffee machine. “You pissed she might’ve wanted to touch my monkey wrench and not yours?”
“Well, well, well, would you look at that,” I taunt back, snark undeniable. “Your balls finally dropped.” A sardonic smirk pops onto my face. “Mitzvah or whatever.”
He lets his crystal stare narrow in my direction.
Love The Kid.
I really do.
He’s…The Kid.
But when it comes to cars and chicks that’s exactly what his twenty-five-year-old ass still is.
A kid.
Too excited, too eager, too stupid to possess any sort of self-preservation.
Which is what I’m here for.
Whether he likes it or not.
“Care to fucking move, so I can get some coffee, or do you need to make hard eye contact with me while you describe your prom night in great detail?”
An exasperated exhale precedes him grabbing one of the clean cups near the machine and filling it up. Once’s he’s finished mixing in two spoonfuls of sugar, he walks it over to me like some sort of peace offering for thinking with his dick instead of his actual brain. “She’s running from something, Nolan.”
“I know.” Switching the mug from his hand to mine is easily done. “And the last thing I need is whatever’s chasing her, hurting you.”
“You mean us.”
“That’s what I said.”
Kipp quirks can eyebrow yet doesn’t verbally argue.
He knows better.
He knows there isn’t a goddamn thing on this planet I wouldn’t do for him.
It’s why he keeps the place stocked with cold beer, fresh Twinkies, and soft fucking toilet paper.
Outside of this apartment, he knows I’ve got him.
Doesn’t matter what he needs.
Doesn’t matter what the problem is.
I know it?
I solve it.
Plain and simple.
Doesn’t matter how complicated or violent or fucking bloody the shit is.
Making sure he’s alright is all that matters.
Inside the apartment?
I guess he tries his best to reciprocate.
He makes sure I get enough to eat.
Enough sleep.
Enough coffee in my cup and on the occasion, pussy on my face.
Our…life together…makes fucking sense.
For us.
It has since he was eighteen, and I swore he’d never wear another bruise on his jaw.
Not from his old man.
Not from fucking anyone.
And to this fucking day he hasn’t.
And that’s not shit that’s gonna suddenly change because there’s a pair of great tits in need of a tune up downstairs.
The two of us exit the apartment, taking the stairs down into the shop in silence.
He’s pouting, but I don’t care.
Alright, I do fucking care, but I’m not gonna let him know that shit.
It’ll pass.
He’ll rub one out to the thoughts of her and her tongue ring rolling around his dick and snap out of it.
Worked for me.
Hell, he can do it twice if necessary.
“Morning,” Kipp bashfully greets the woman contorting herself to brush her teeth in her side mirror.
Or…maybe not.
Bunny offers him a tiny pinky wave in return before flashing her middle finger at me.
Eh.
Not the coldest welcome I’ve ever had.
Hell, it ain’t even the coldest I’ve had this week.
“Sleep okay?” The Kid questions while sliding behind the counter. “Want some coffee?” He adjusts his rarely worn navy work shirt as if it matters. But it doesn’t. No matter which way he tugs it, he’s not going to look anymore grown up. He’s still just a kid too concerned with getting his dick touched instead of his bank account stuffed. More interested in chasing his wet dreams than dreaming about getting the fuck out of this shithole town. “I can go grab you a cup. It’s freshly made.”
She swishes around the water in her mouth before spitting it back into the water bottle, she’s holding. “Depends.” The nuance with unreal legs twists the cap back on. “Did your mutt over there drool in it during the process?”
“I can,” I coldly retort prior to having a sip of my own beverage from beside my best friend.
“No,” Kipp rushes to reassure. “I made the coffee. I…always make the coffee.”
“Aw,” Bunny theatrically pouts, “can’t teach the old dog new tricks, huh?”
Speaking over his low chuckles isn’t difficult. “Depends on the type of carrot you’re willing to offer, rabbit.”
Her bright brown gaze widens to the size of the rims hitched to her under inflated tires. “What the fuck did you just call me?”
“Wasn’t on the list of names to avoid, sweetheart.” A victorious smirk slaps itself onto my face at the same time I place the cup on the counter. “Although, you might wanna add it now.”
“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?!
“She can’t stay here,” I instantly fight yet again surprised to see him not budging.
“Shecan.” Kipp pushes his shoulders back. Tilts his chin higher. Adds unnecessary gruffness to his voice. “And she will.”
“You both know she can hear you, right?” Bunny needlessly reminds at the same time she leans her ass against the counter.
“Good to know those things on your head are used for more than just holding pens,” I state with a sarcastic grin.
The unwanted guest gives the writing utensil a faint touch like she’s completely forgotten it was there.
And who the fuck knows.
Maybe she had.
Maybe wearing pens behind her ear and in her hair and writing on random shit and her hands are her version of smoking or vaping or chewing gum.
Don’t know.
Don’t wanna know.
Don’t need to know.
And once she gets the fuck out of town, I really won’t need to care.
Kipp swings his stare in her direction and allows it to soften. “You can crash on our couch if you want.”
“I don’t want.” My second bite immediately resummons his glare to mine. “I don’t want a fucking houseguest, Kid.”
“Ten bucks says you’ve never even had a houseguest before.”
“You owe her ten bucks,” my best friend playfully pokes, tipping his head in Bunny’s direction.
“We didn’t bet!” The vibrating device in my hands indicates someone is now calling rather than texting which means I now have to choose between dealing with a paying customer or a potential problem that involves the creaky pullout no one has slept on since I first moved in back when Big K was still alive. “Fuckme…” Another frustrated headshake is all I deliver during my retreat to my truck. “One. Night. Kid.” Continuing to move towards my vehicle, I point a firm finger at her and assert, “You only get one night with us, Rabbit.”
And that one night?
Well, it’s already one night too many.