The Biker's Rules
she says, giving me a sideways look like she’s checking for early zombie symptoms.
Finding none — apparently — I live another day.
The car pulls out of the hospital lot, and as the building disappears behind us, one thing is painfully clear — tonight, everything changes.
“I can’t wait to see that bad boy’s face when he comes with you to the next sonar,” Kiara says, grinning as she taps impatient fingers against the steering wheel.
“If he survives my brothers finding out he knocked me up,” I mutter, wrestling with the radio. The stupid thing refuses to connect to my phone. Of course. Technology senses vulnerability.