Page 59 of Turning Back

“So you showed,” I say, some of Rochelle’s irritation rubbing off on me.

“Why wouldn’t I come?” Quin asks.

“Rochelle told me what you did last night.”

“What’d I do?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No,” he says. “I’m not. What did she tell you?”

“Revenge fuck? Hate fuck? Those are two ways she described what happened last night.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“She said you fucked her and then told her that’s exactly how you fucked Chella when she ambushed us.”

“So? Did I miss the memo where everyone is supposed to lie and spare Rochelle’s feelings?”

“Are you gonna be a dick about this? She said you left this morning without saying goodbye.”

“I needed to go home and change, Bric.” And then he shakes his dry-cleaning. “Which is why I brought a fucking suit this time.”

Oh. Yeah, that kinda makes sense.

“And she was with the baby. I thought she went back to sleep.”

Hmm. All this adds up. “She said you didn’t sit across from her today at breakfast.”

Quin laughs. “Why the fuck would I sit across from her when I can sit next to her? What the hell is going on?” he asks. “Why is she back if all she’s gonna do is complain about everything I do?”

“I don’t think she’s complaining, Quin. She feels like you’re not invested in her.”

“I’m here,” he says. “With a suit to wear to work tomorrow because we’re gonna sleep together tonight. What the fuck do you guys want from me? A goddamned contract? Am I the game, Bric?”

“Of course not,” I say, walking over to the compactor door and throwing the bag of trash in.

“Hey,” he says as I come back. “If you don’t want me here, just let me know. We can get that DNA test out of the way and just take it from there.”

“Quin,” I say, softening my stance. “We discussed this. We’re not getting the test. She’s ours.”

“She’s mine,” Quin says. “Just so you understand that. But I’m willing to share.”

For a second I’m not sure if he’s talking about the baby or Rochelle. Or both. I’m actually speechless.

“Are we going upstairs or what?” he finally adds.

I punch the keypad to call the elevator and when the doors open, we both step in. “Did you eat with Chella?” I ask, trying to find a way to break the awkwardness.

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Chella told Rochelle. They hung out today.”

Quin shrugs off getting caught in that lie. “We met my mother for dinner.”

“Your mother?” Jesus Christ, I feel like I’m talking to a stranger.

“Yeah, we have dinner with her about once a month.”