She stumbles for words. “I… You… We…”
“Jesus Christ,” Bric says, standing up and walking into the bathroom. “Just let it go, Quin.” He starts the shower and then comes back out. “We’re here because we want to be here, OK?”
“So you don’t care that she’s basically saying she wants me alone, and not us?” I ask.
“Do you care?” Bric asks.
“Dude,” I say. “If I wanted her to myself, I’d have her to myself.”
“I can’t believe you just said that. Admitted it,” Rochelle says.
“Why not?” I ask.
“Well, I, for one,” Bric says, “am flattered.”
“Shut up,” Rochelle growls at him. “And thanks for those spankings by the way.”
Bric shrugs. “You deserved them.”
“And,” I say, “if you didn’t want them, it’s your responsibility to say no.”
Rochelle huffs out some air. “So you’re ganging up on me now?” She’s talking to Bric. “Taking his side?”
“I’m not taking his side,” Bric says. But we both know he’s taking my side. He’s not into the couple relationships. He’s not going to be with Rochelle as a couple. Even if he was Adley’s father—and he’s not—he would not settle down with her, for fuck’s sake. “But this is what we have right now, Rochelle. The three of us. Is that something you’re interested in? Or not?”
“I am,” Rochelle says, looking at me. “I’m into the three of us, Quin. But you and I have something different.”
“Had,” I stress. “We had something different. And you know what? If you had stayed, if you had just stuck around a little longer, I would’ve left the game for you.”
“But you won’t now?”
“I don’t even know you, Rochelle.”
“What?” she asks. “How could you say that?”
“I know nothing about you. Not one thing outside our limited time together. You blew my fucking mind when you walked out. Made it explode in confusion. I had no idea you’d do something like that to me. Never in a million years did I imagine you’d hurt me that way.” I point to Bric. “Him I know. I know his body, his mouth, his fucking cock. But beyond that, I know his mind. I know the depth of his loyalty. I know his past, what he wants from the future. I know he’s got my back. I trust him.”
Rochelle draws in a deep breath and lets it out very slowly. “Well…” she says. “I’m glad you think you know him so well.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
She shrugs and gets up off the bed to join Bric in the bathroom doorway. “I’m taking a shower.”
Bric and I stare at each other for a second. “Come on,” he says. “Just let it go. You had your say, you had your revenge fucks. Two,” Bric says, holding up two fingers. “You got it twice. You paid her back and made your point. Now just settle down and let it go.” He walks towards me, puts a hand on my shoulder. “We have a good thing here, Quin,” he cautions me. “We got her back, we got each other back, and we’ve got that adorable pumpkin baby. Don’t fuck it up with hate.”
I sigh, not wanting to give in, but unable to help myself.
“Right?” Bric says. “Come on. Let’s just take a shower and go to bed.”
“I think we need rules,” I say.
“What?” Bric is annoyed now.
“More rules. The rules kept things straight, you know?”
“Quin, we broke all the rules with Rochelle. It’s too late. We’re off the rules. We can try, if you’re gonna insist. But look, we made rules last week and we’re already off the rules.”
“Well, we need guidance, then.”
Bric laughs. “OK. Thriples therapy here we come. Get real.” He bumps me as he walks towards the bathroom. “In a week you’ll be past this,” he says over his shoulder. “In a week we’ll be settled back into our regular routines. I promise. Just give it a week.”
I don’t think a week will fix what’s wrong with us.
A few moments pass. Me just standing in the middle of the bedroom. Rochelle and Bric talking in low voices in the bathroom. They are in the shower together. I can tell by the sound of the water.
I’m glad you think you know him so well.
They have a secret. That’s what she meant by that statement. She and Bric have a secret.
I let out a long breath of air and rub my hands down my face.
What could it be?
“Quin,” Bric yells from the shower. “Come on.”
It’s got something to do with her leaving. Or the baby. Or her coming back. Or all of the above.
“Quin,” Bric shouts again. “Get in here now.”
It’s true. What I said. I don’t know her very well. I didn’t think about it much before she left. She was just… Rochelle. Our player. The best player we ever had. Did I ever wonder where she came from? Did I ever wonder why it was so easy for her to slip into the life we offered her? And stay for three fucking years?
“Asshole!” Bric yells.
“I’m coming,” I say, slipping my pants down and kicking them away. I kick the doubts away too. Does it matter if they have a secret?
Not really. I know she doesn’t want Bric. She wants me. But beyond that, I know Bric doesn’t want her without me.
So does it matter if they have a secret?
I walk into the bathroom and decide it doesn’t. Not yet anyway.
I open the glass shower door and slip inside. There’s a double shower head—one on each side of the shimmering lavender glass-tiled walls. Plus a rain shower overhead. Plenty of room for three people.
It’s kinda odd. I know people have fancy showers like this. Hell, my bathroom is fancy too. I have a rain shower and a regular shower head. But there’s plenty of space in here for two large men and one slight woman.
Almost as if Bric designed it this way on purpose.
“Here,” Bric says, holding a shampoo bottle. “Hold out your hand.” I do, and he squirts some shampoo into my palm. “Wash her hair.”
Rochelle is standing under one of the side showers. She glares at me through a curtain of water.
“Turn around,” I say, making a swirling motion with my finger.
Rochelle steps out of the water, wiping her eyes as she turns her back to me. I gather up her long, blonde hair and begin to wash it.
“See,” Bric says. “That’s nice, right?”
It’s kinda funny that Bric has to babysit this relationship. The one who never gives a fuck. The guy with absolutely no nurturing gene in his DNA.
“Do you know where I grew up, Rochelle?” Bric asks.
“No,” she says softly.
“Do you want to know?”
She peeks over her shoulder, finds me looking at her, then averts her eyes to Bric. “Of course,” she says in her soft Rochelle voice. “I’d love to know.”
“Great Falls, Montana. Well”—he laughs—“not in town. I grew up on a fifteen-thousand-acre cattle ranch about an hour west of there.”
“You’re a cowboy?” She says it seriously. But then she laughs with him. “That’s ridiculous.”