REBEL, a New Adult Romance Novel (The Rebel Series) (6 page)

“Uncle Ramon?”

“Yep.
 
Good old Uncle Ramon.
 
We’ve got a hundred bucks to blow, and I know just the place to blow it, too.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask, splashing water on my face.
 
I’m warming to the idea of not sleeping in the bathroom tonight.
 
“Where?”

“A club downtown.
 
They say celebrities go there.
 
Maybe we’ll catch a glimpse of one.”

“We’ve tried to catch glimpses of celebrities for the whole four years we’ve been here, and never once have we been successful at it.”
 
I’m pretty sure we’re the only ones in the entire city able to say that.

“That’s because we spent too much time on campus.
 
Now we’re going to remedy that.”
 
She lifts up her arms and starts moving her hips.
 
“We’re gonna go dancin’, and drinkin’, and flirtin’, and …”

I push her out the door and shut it behind her, turning the lock quickly before she can grab the handle.

“Hey!
 
I was in my groove in there!”

“Go find your groove out in the family room.
 
I have to pee.”

“I’ve seen you pee a million times. Let me in.
 
We need to put together our plan of attack.”

I sit down on the toilet and roll my eyes, ignoring the rest of her not-at-all-convincing arguments for re-admittance.
 
Whenever Quin puts together a plan of attack and innocent guys are her victims, I always end up in the crossfire, kissing future asscar drivers and the like.

Oh well
.
 
It’s not like I have anything else to do.
 
And this bathroom was getting lame anyway.
 
Might as well go out and live it up one last time with my friend before I start my new career as a prostitute.
 
I figure that’s the only thing left to me at this point.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

WE’RE STANDING IN LINE OUTSIDE the club when we get our first celebrity sighting.

“Oh my effing G!” Quin squeals, grabbing my arm and squeezing it for all she’s worth.
 
“That’s Tarin Kilgour!”

I frown at the person she’s staring at.
 
“No, it’s not.
 
Tarin’s taller than that.”

“Yes, it is!
 
Put your glasses on, freak!”
 
She’s lost it.
 
Now she’s jumping up and down while holding onto my arm, jerking me all over the place.

The guy is with some girl I’ve never seen in the gossip magazines, heading towards a car parked at the curb.
 
They almost get there before they’re interrupted by a small gaggle of chicks wearing very high heels and extremely short skirts and one wispy guy whose clothes are just as flamboyant.
 
Fan-girls and fan-boys attack!
 

“Okay, maybe it is him.”
 
I watch the drama unfold as one of the girls and one of the guys get a little too aggressive and Tarin backs away.

Then all of a sudden two big muscle guys from the club come out and get in the middle, one of them picking up the girl and carrying her away as she struggles and the second grabbing the guy.
 
Their goofy friends toddle after them in platform heels, purses swinging around their sides.

My heart does a triple flip when I see who the first bouncer is. “Rebel.”

“What’d you say?” asks Quin.
 
She’s still staring at Tarin as he rushes to get into the backseat of his car.
 
The looney bird girl who is being carried away is still screaming and reaching out for him.
 
It’s possible the fan-boy is crying.

“Rebel.
 
I know that guy … the one carrying the chick away.”

Finally, I have Quin’s attention.
 
“You
know
him?
 
How is it you know that gorgeous hunk of man meat and I don’t?”
 
She’s waiting for an answer, her eyes practically glowing with ideas.

I’m torn between feeling lucky and being angry that this gorgeous hunk of man meat rejected me more thoroughly than I’ve ever been rejected in my entire life.
 
“He turned me down at my last job attempt today.”

“You didn’t mention you tried to get a job at a club.
 
That might be fun.”

“I didn’t mention it because it didn’t happen.
 
He has another job, apparently.
 
He owns a car garage.”

“Ooohhhh, I get it now.
 
So what’d he say?”
 
We take a few steps forward as some people are let inside to replace the ones who came out.
 
The club must be at its max capacity right now.
 
Either that or they’re acting like their shit is so awesome, they can make us wait outside just because they want to.

“He said nothing,” I say.

“Nothing?
 
As in nothing-nothing, or something-nothing.”

I roll my eyes.
 
“
Nothing
-nothing.
 
He said zero.
 
Zip. Nada.
 
No words passed his lips.”

She grins big.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”
 
It’s never a good thing when she makes this face.

“Sounds to me like you didn’t get rejected.”

I turn back to face the front of the line.
 
“Trust me.
 
It was rejection.”

“I think you should go back and try again.”

“And I think you should date Perry.”

“Now why would you say such a thing?” she asks, pretending to be offended.

“Because, both suggestions are equally heinous.
 
Now leave me alone about the job thing.
 
I’m not in the mood.
 
You’re harshing my mellow.”

“You don’t have any mellow right now, but I’m going to remedy that.
 
Come on.”
 
She grabs me by the forearm and drags me out of line.

“Good.
 
Because I didn’t want to go to this crappy club anyway.”
 
I hope she’s taking me home.
 
I wouldn’t mind having about eight beers in the comfort of Perry’s apartment.
 
He’ll be out, so we’ll have the place to ourselves.
 
Or maybe he’ll be there and he’ll put a car in his butt.
 
Anything would be better than being here at this point.

“Yes, you do want to go into this crappy club.”
 
She’s dragging me to the front door where the muscle car bouncer is back at his station.

“No, Quin,” I say, trying to get my arm back.

“Yes, Teagan.”
 
She’s little, but she’s a lot more powerful than I give her credit for.
 
When she’s on a mission, it’s very hard to hold her back from it.
 
And because I had the spectacularly bad foresight to let her talk me into wearing heels tonight, I have almost no leverage for a getaway.

Quin finally stops when she’s standing in front of Rebel.
 
He’s left the fangirls with the cops and is once more manning the door.
 
“Hello, Rebel,” she says.

He raises an eyebrow but says nothing.
 
Then he looks at me, and it’s possible I see a flicker of recognition in his eye.
 
Or it could be just my imagination, because of course he says nothing at all.

“I said,
hello
, Rebel.”

Oh boy.
 
Quin has her hands on her hips and she’s getting feisty.

“It’s common in our society when greeted to return that greeting,” she persists.

I pray for the invisibility spell that I used to try and conjure when I was a little kid and my dad was yelling at someone in front of me.
 
I’m so not in the mood to be part of the evening’s entertainment.

“Hey!” yells someone behind us.“Get in the back of the line!”

“Eat me, twerker!” Quin yells, never taking her eyes off Rebel.
 
In a softer voice she asks, “You remember my friend, Teagan, right?” She looks at me and smiles before turning back to him.

“Can we go now?” I ask, looking anywhere but at the man with the deepset eyes and the spiked blonde hair.
 
His muscles are mostly covered by a club t-shirt tonight, but that doesn’t stop them from being painfully obvious and sexy.
 
I hate that he’s such a good-looking jerk.
 
If I were in charge of this planet, all looks would match personality.
 
Ugly guy? Ugly personality. Gorgeous hunk of man-meat?
 
Courageous, honest, loyal, sweetheart inside.
 
I don’t see the need for all the trickery.

“No, we can’t go now.
 
We’re going
inside
,” Quin says, using her ultra sweet but determined voice.
 
I sigh heavily, knowing this is about to get ugly.

“Not without ID you’re not,” a deep voice says.

I look at Rebel sharply, wondering if my ears are deceiving me.
 
But no other person has stepped up to take over the bouncer’s job, so it must have been him who spoke.

Quin elbows me.
 
“Get your ID out.
 
Hurry up before he starts giving us the silent treatment again.”

I notice his mouth quirking up just the slightest bit before he goes back to being a statue.
 
I take out my driver’s license and hand it over to Quin.
 
She presents them both to Rebel for his review.

He barely glances at hers before handing it back.
 
Mine, he stares at for a long time.
 
Then he looks up at me, his eyes narrowing.
 
“This isn’t her.
 
You can go in, but she has to stay out.”

My mouth drops open.

“Please,” says Quin, barking out a sarcastic laugh.
 
“As if.
 
Hand it over.
 
How much is the cover charge?”
 
She puts her hand out for my ID, but he holds onto it.

“Cover is fifteen bucks.
 
Pay inside.”
 
He looks at the person standing behind us.

The guy standing there starts to crowd up against me, so I whip around and give him my death glare.
 
“Back the fuck off, asshole.”

He throws up his hands.
 
“Sorry, geez, lighten up.”

Lighten up?
 
Is he frigging kidding me?
 
I turn back around, ready to let this suck wagon Rebel the a-hole have it.
 
But first I have to break the news to Quin that our date is off.

“Quin, I’m outta here.
 
Go without me.”

“No way!
 
I’m not letting this assbag ruin our night.”

I ignore her and do the best I can to salvage my life.
 
I hold out my hand towards Rebel and sigh with annoyance.
 
“Just give me back my ID and I’ll leave.”

He shakes his head.
 
“Sorry.
 
I have to confiscate all fake IDs.”

The heat rushes to my face and neck, making me feel like I’ve just caught on fire.
 
But since there’s no smoke coming out of my ears and nose, I figure it’s just plain old everyday humiliation going on here.
 
“It’s not fake.
 
It’s me.”

“Could you step to the side please?”
 
He’s not even looking at me when he says it, and that makes me madder than I think I’ve ever been.
 
It’s the last straw, to be treated like I don’t even matter enough to be looked at when spoken to.

“No, as a matter of fact, I
can’t
step to the side.
 
Not until you give me my ID, asshole.”

Someone walks up to stand next to him, but I don’t bother looking to see who it is.
 
It could be a cop for all I care.
 
I’m not leaving this place without my driver’s license.

Rebel just stares at me with a totally bland expression on his face.

I’m so tempted to smack it off him, I have to put my hands in fists and force them to my sides.
 
Getting arrested for assault and battery would be a really bad idea right now.
 
I have no bail money and no friends with bail money.

“You can’t keep her license,” says Quin.
 
“That’s stealing.”

“I need my license,” I say, ignoring my friend, ignoring the people in line, ignoring the people standing next to Rebel.
 
“I have to go job hunting tomorrow, which means I have to drive, which means I need my
license
.”

“Oh, hey!
 
You’re that girl.”

I barely recognize the voice, but once the words penetrate my angry brain, I look over.
 
The skinny guy from the car repair shop is standing next to Rebel.

“Yeah,” I say bitterly.
 
“I’m that girl.”
 
I turn back to Rebel.
 
“Seriously.
 
Stop fucking around and give me my ID.
 
I’m going to call the cops.”

“What’s the deal, man?”
 
Skinny guy is talking to Rebel.

“Get back to work, Mick.”

“Fuck that.
 
What’d you do to the poor girl this time?”
 
He’s calling me poor girl, but he’s smiling.
 
I want to smack him too.

“Who’s your friend?” Mick asks, catching sight of Quin.

She smiles at him but then stops immediately when she catches my expression.
 
I consider any flirting with this group of Rebel Wheels guys to be traitorous activity, punishable by silent treatment for at least a week.
 
Probably a month.