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“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.”
