Page 77 of Turning Back

“And it worked?” Rochelle asks.

I nod. “Yeah. It worked. They’re like… best friends now.”

“I’m getting that.”

“Are you jealous?” I ask, giving her a sideways glance.

“Maybe a little.”

“Well, don’t be. Chella is in love with Smith. If Quin was ever invited into that little arrangement, he’d say yes in a second. But he won’t be. Ever. Smith doesn’t give two shits that they spend so much time together alone. But he knows better than to be with Chella and Quin at the same time.”

“Because Quin wants the game,” Rochelle says in a mocking voice. “I don’t know if this is going to work, Bric. He wants the game with us too, but the problem is still the same. He doesn’t want me all to himself.”

“It’s only been a few days, Rochelle. Give the guy some time.”

“He says he’s not coming over tomorrow night. Says he’s got breakfast with Smith on Monday morning. He chose Smith over me. God, I want to die of humiliation.”

“Like I said, give it time.”

Just as that last word leaves my mouth, the woman in charge walks up to us. “Excuse me, Elias. Sorry to interrupt, but we’re finished. All the linens and clothes have been laundered and put away. Everything is perfect. Would you like to inspect it?”

I stand up and shake her hand. “Not necessary, Abbey. I trust you. And thanks a bunch for coming over on a Saturday.” I lean in and kiss her cheek, then walk her and the other men to the elevator. They are lugging out trash and large cardboard boxes.

When I get back to Rochelle, she’s got her eyes closed. “Perfect, huh?”

“My command is law around these parts,” I say.

“Do I get to see it now?” she asks, not bothering to look at me.

“For sure.”

Adley is fast asleep in her arms, so Rochelle maneuvers her body carefully, holding the baby to her chest as we walk slowly down the hallway.

“Oh, Bric,” Rochelle says as we step in front of the wide doors. “It’s gorgeous.” She walks in, looking around with surprise and happiness.

And even though I really, really like the dark side down in the basement of the Club, this kind of stuff feels just as good.

“That crib.” Rochelle sighs. “It’s beautiful. How did you find something to match the decor in this loft?”

“It’s a limited-edition piece by the same artist who did the metalwork.” And she’s right. The crib perfectly matches the old reclaimed wood look of the loft ceiling beams. And the metal bars are a sleek pewter color that look a little industrial, but work with the rest of the theme.

“This color,” Rochelle says, walking up to the deep purple velvet drapes and feeling the fabric between her fingers. “God, I love it.”

“Much nicer than the thrift-store version you had hanging in your old apartment.”

“Yeah.” She laughs softly, so not to wake Adley. “I’ll admit it. They are stunning. I love the yellow accents. The bedding. Oh, my God. Who knew you had an eye for design?” She goes over to the crib, peeks in, and then places Adley inside. I walk over and watch, fascinated with the idea that she will sleep in here tonight. Now. She’s sleeping in something I gave her.

“Oh, that’s all Abbey,” I say. “She has a design studio that specializes in children’s rooms.”

“Is she a Club member?”

“Well… her husband is. Women can’t be members, you know that.”

Rochelle scowls at me, but only for a second. I wait for the inevitable next question. Did you ever fuck her? And my truthful answer would be yes, dozens of times. Just last weekend, in fact. But thankfully Rochelle never asks.

“Look, she loves it.” Adley never wakes up as Rochelle covers her with a light blanket.

“Either that or all that shopping tired her out.”