Chapter Twenty-Three - Bric
“Your brother has called six times, Bric. I’m running out of excuses.”
I glance up at Margaret in between signing the stack of documents she needs. She’s got a disapproving look on her face. “Just stop answering,” I say. “I left home twenty years ago for this very fucking reason. I’m not going to deal with all that drama.”
“It sounds important. Something about Luc.”
I continue signing papers and sliding them across the desk for Margaret to collect. But it pisses me off that my family is interfering in my life. I leave them alone, why can’t they do me the same courtesy? “Luc is a grown-ass man, Margaret. He’s like…” Fuck. How old is he now?
“He’s twenty-one,” Margaret says, annoyed that I don’t know how old my youngest brother is. “Still a child in my mind. And Abrem sounded desperate to talk to you.”
“Well, next time tell Abrem, ‘Galatians 6:7.’ He’ll know what that means.” A man reaps what he sows. Abrem was always the one in control back home. Hated when I had an opinion on anything. And now he’s just pissed off that he and Benjamin have let things get so bad. I sign the last piece of paper and slide it across my desk with one push of my finger. “I have nothing to do with Luc’s problems and, therefore, I have nothing to do with Luc’s solution. I barely know him.”
Margaret sighs at my last remark. But it’s true. I left home when Luc was just a baby. And yeah, I see him once a year—when he actually shows up for the Labor Day family reunion party. He’s missed all but one since all this drug bullshit started back when he was seventeen.
“Or better yet,” I say, glancing at my watch and feeling the need to get out of here and stop this conversation, “tell Abrem to call Jason or Keren, not me. They know him best.” I get up to escape Margaret, but she puts a hand on my arm. I stop and look down at her. “What?”
“You know they’ve already tried that, Elias. Jason and Keren live at home. Do you really think Abrem hasn’t talked to them already?”
“I can’t help Luc, Margaret. No one can. He doesn’t want help. He likes his life, OK? Just like I like mine.”
“Your lifestyle, you mean?” she says, cutting through my words with a knife. “But your lifestyle isn’t going to get anyone killed, is it?”
I shrug off her hand and grab my coat off the chair. “I’m done with this conversation. I have things to do today. I’m moving in to a new place this weekend and—”
“You can’t run from everything, you know.”
“Margaret,” I say, all patience gone. “Stop trying—”
“You can’t,” she continues, ignoring my brush-off, “pretend everything is perfect and not expect it to catch up with you eventually, Elias.”
“I don’t need another mother.” And then I laugh. “OK? You’re important to me and I love having you at the Club. I wouldn’t know what to do without you. But Margaret, back the fuck off right the fuck now.”
“Fine,” she says as I shrug on my coat and adjust my collar. “I’ll just pretend it’s not happening. I’ll just—”
I know she’s going to get mean. I can feel her stinging words on the tip of her tongue. And when Margaret gets mean, she holds nothing back.
But she stops herself at the last second.
“I’ll just take care of these contracts,” she says in her normal Margaret-is-all-business voice. “Have a nice afternoon, Bric.”
“Bric,” I mumble as she leaves me standing in my office. But it’s satisfying to hear the change in her tone. All business again. Just the way I like her.
By the time I get over to the ballet company, I’m twenty minutes late. Nadia comes rushing out of the door into the cold, wrapping her coat tightly around her body. She pulls the car door open before I can even get out to open it for her, and slides into the passenger seat, slamming it shut.
“You’re late,” she says, annoyed.
Well, I’m annoyed too, so I don’t give a shit. “I run a business, Nadia. I will occasionally be a few minutes late for things.”
“More than twenty minutes, Bric. I could’ve gone home,” she says. “All you had to do was call.”
“I got caught up in business,” I snap.
Nadia recoils at my anger, turns her head and looks out the window.
“Sorry,” I say, pulling back onto the street. “I was thoughtless. I’ll call you next time and let you know.”
She huffs out some air, but doesn’t respond.
“My fucking brother called and—” And I stop. Fuck that conversation. And fuck this one too.
“And what?” Nadia asks, turning her body towards me.
“Forget it. Not important.”
We drive the rest of the way over to the furniture store in silence and by the time we get there, we’re almost thirty minutes late for our appointment with my interior designer, Anna, and I’m not even remotely interested in shopping for furniture.
I pull the car up to the front door, see Anna waiting behind the glass, and look at Nadia.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“I’m gonna drop you off with Anna, the designer. Just tell what you like and she’ll—”
“Fuck you!” Nadia says. “Just fuck you. I’m not the one who needs a new house. I’m not the one who made this appointment. I’m not the one,” she stresses, “who even wants to be here right now. I’d rather be home, sleeping, or watching movies, or what the fuck ever.”
My head snaps back in surprise at her outrage.
“You’re going inside, Elias Bricman. Or you’re taking me home right now. And where the fuck is Jordan?”
“He’ll be here,” I say, regaining my voice. “I talked to him earlier and he said he’ll be here.”
Nadia glares at me and I just don’t know why this day went from ordinary to shit so suddenly. “Park. The fucking. Car,” she says, clipping her words.
I pull away from the curb and ease the car into a parking space near the front of the lot.
Nadia opens her door, letting in a rush of frigid air, then slams it closed.
I sit there for a second, but she knocks on the window and points to me, practically ordering me to get the fuck out.
I turn off the engine and get out. Goddamn, it’s fucking cold.
When I walk around the car and join her, she slips her hand in my arm like nothing happened. Ready to go furniture-shopping.
“Don’t,” I say in a low voice as we head towards the glass doors of the furniture store, “ever fucking talk to me like that again.”
“Then don’t keep me waiting,” she says sweetly. “And don’t act like I’m your personal piece of property you can order around. Because I’m not.”
I open the door for her and she walks in. Anna is there to greet us and Nadia smiles and talks politely to her as she introduces herself. Pretending that conversation never happened.
What a fucking day.
We spend the next hour looking at furniture and telling Anna what kind of style we want for the house. It’s a classic Tudor mansion, so we stick to classic traditional furniture. Not my style at all, and from what I can tell, not Nadia’s style either.
This is not going well. And just as I’m cursing Jordan for leaving me to deal with all this Nadia shit alone, he walks up to us in the bedroom section.
“Hey,” he says, walking over to Nadia and me. He leans in and kisses her, pulling her close as he holds her face in both hands. They linger for a second. Which allows me an opportunity to glance at Anna.
She’s smiling and passive. I’ve never shopped with my players before, but her husband is a Club member, so she knows what’s going on here.
“About fucking time,” I say, thoroughly irritated again as I glance down at my watch. “You’re only two hours late.” And Nadia doesn’t berate him for his tardiness, I note. She just wraps her arm around his and smiles.
“We’ve picked everything out,” Nadia says. “Except the bedroom furniture.”
“I guess I got here for the only room that counts,” Jordan jokes. And then he sits down on the bed we’re looking at—a dark gray low-profile platform with chesterfield tufting on the headboard. It’s not very traditional and it’s expensive as hell. But Jordan missed all that earlier talk about design and so he lies back and says, “Come here, Nadia. Try it out with me.”
She obliges without comment. She even smiles and tucks her body up next to his.
“What do you think, Bric?” Jordan says. “This good enough for you? Hell, let’s get the whole fucking bedroom set. Why not?” He laughs. “Bric’s buying. Say yes and we can get the hell out of here.”
“Sure,” I say, liking the whole getting the hell out of here part. “You got everything you need, Anna?”
Anna looks down at her clipboard and smiles. “I got it, Bric. Do you want it delivered tomorrow? We have everything in stock.”
“How about Friday?” I say. “We close Friday morning at nine. So, noonish?”
“Yes,” Jordan says, feeling Nadia up. Nadia is giggling and her hands are wandering just like his. “Friday night we’ll break this baby in.” And then he sits up, helps Nadia sit up too, and stands, holding her hand as she climbs out of the bed. “I gotta go,” he says, leaning in to kiss her again before she can protest. It’s passionate and long. Long enough for Anna and I to look at each other. I’m annoyed, but she’s blushing.
I have to control my eye-roll.
“But you just got here,” Nadia says, more than a hint of disappointment in her voice when she pulls out of the kiss.
“I know,” Jordan says, looking intently into her eyes. “But this case, Nadia. I have to be in court early tomorrow for jury selection. And this guy, man. He’s a big problem. Got arrested while he was out on bail just before trial. It’s a fucking mess. But it’ll be over soon. Two weeks, tops. Then I’m all yours.” He glances at me when he says that. “I’ll make it up to you guys when it’s over. OK?”
I shrug. I’m ready to go, so what the fuck do I care?
There’s another kiss and then Jordan disappears throughout the rows of furniture.
We finish up the details with Anna and then Nadia and I walk out of the store together.
“Well,” she says, once we’re back in the freezing cold car. I can see her breath as she sighs that word out. “Furniture-shopping went better than I expected.”
“Did it?” I ask, blaring the heater as I back out of the parking spot. “You looked like you’d rather be getting a root canal than shopping for furniture with me.”
“That’s because you’re a dick, Elias. You made me mad. And this was all your idea and you ruined it. It should’ve been fun and you’re the reason it wasn’t.”
“Oh.” I laugh. A nice, loud incredulous laugh. “But it’s OK for Jordan to be two hours late?”
Nadia looks out the window. “At least he was happy to see me.”
I drop her off at her building. I don’t even pretend like I’m going to walk her in and have my way with her upstairs. I’m not in the mood. “I’m busy tomorrow,” I say, just as she opens her door.
“Me too,” she replies. “So I guess I’ll see you whenever.”
“No,” I say, grabbing hold of her arm before she can escape. She looks at me. Pins her eyes right to mine. Challenging me over whatever the fuck we’re doing right now. “I’ll pick you up after work on Friday. Have your things packed. You’re moving into the house.”
She smiles. It’s fake, but it’s big. And says nothing. Just removes my hand from her arm and gets out of my car.
I pull away without another look.
Nadia has twelve boxes and seven of those are cardboard wardrobes that mostly contain all the clothes Jordan has bought her since they’ve been together. I know this because she made a point of telling me that. Stressed his name, in fact.
Jordan is not here. Asshole. Even though I had his keys delivered to him after I signed the papers today.
We’re in the house. The last of the furniture is being delivered. Anna was here all day hanging pictures and messing with window coverings. She’s got bedding for the bed and towels in the bathrooms. The kitchen is stocked with dishes and glassware. The dining table seats fourteen, for fuck’s sake. And It occurs to me that I have no idea what I was getting into when I bought this house just to make Nadia mad about not participating. Five million dollars cash. What the fuck was I thinking?
She’s in the master closet, presumably emptying out her cardboard wardrobes and thinking about Jordan—asshole—and how perfect he is.
I’m drinking a bottle of brandy in the office. I like the office because I can see almost the entire first floor from here. Specifically, the stairs. And I can hear everything too, like this place has perfect acoustics. Anna and Nadia are up there laughing. Men are walking down carrying folded cardboard, chatting and happy, discussing what they will do this weekend, eager to go home and forget about their week.
I’d like to forget about my week too. My middle brother, Gaius, called yesterday. And my oldest sister, Candace, called today.
I didn’t answer my phone either time, but Margaret made a point to leave me little sticky notes so I’d know they called the Club as well.
My brandy is good and I finish the drink and pour me another. Nope, I’m not getting sucked back into that drama. They can call all they want. I’m not gonna do it.
I didn’t bring anything over except clothes. So I guess Nadia and I aren’t that different. Jordan has brought nothing. Because he’s not here yet. Asshole.
Nadia and Anna descend the stairs. They know I’m in here. Have been in here since I brought Nadia over a few hours ago. But they don’t even look my way as they pass the open door. Just stop in the foyer and do stupid cheek kisses as they say goodbye.
I guess Nadia has made a friend.
Lovely. I’m happy she’s settling into her new life.
They walk out of my view and say goodbye again. The door closes with a click. Nadia sighs, like she’s exhausted. And then she appears as a silhouette in my office door, backlit by the foyer chandelier and sparkling from the light reflecting off the crystals.
“Well,” she says.
“Have a good time moving?” I ask. “Come in here and have a drink with me.”
She hesitates, but then decides it’s not worth a fight, and obeys. She sinks into one of two leather chairs positioned in front of my desk and takes the glass of brandy I just poured her. Sips it. Scowls. Puts it down. Smiles. “I think it went better than I expected.”
“No Jordan, though, huh?”
“He’ll be here,” she says. “He texted me this morning and said dinner time.” She glances at the clock. It says six twenty-five. “So soon, I guess.”
“Are you in love with him?” I ask.
“What?” She laughs out her answer. “No.”
“Then why are you so nice to him?” It bugs me. “He’s not as attentive as I am.”
“And he didn’t buy me a five-million-dollar house.”
I shrug. “It’s in my name.”
She shrugs back. “Jordan is…”
“Is what?” I ask, when she doesn’t continue.
“He gets me, ya know?”
“And I don’t?”
“Not even a little bit, Elias.”
At least she calls me Elias. “So what am I missing?”
“Everything.” She sighs, leaning back in her chair and setting the arches of her feet up against my desk. She’s got socks on. And she’s wearing her dance clothes still. Ripped leggings with holes in the knees. The leggings cover her toes, but those have holes in them too. Her pinky toe is looking at me right now. She’s wearing an oversized sweatshirt that hangs over one shoulder to reveal the tank top she has on underneath. Her hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail.
She looks every bit a dancer right now. The down-and-out type. The I-take-my-art-seriously type. The type I like.
“Specifically?” I ask, wanting more from her.
“Specifically… I don’t know.”
“You know,” I say. “So tell me. I did just buy you a five-million-dollar house. I think I earned a little insight.”
“Well, I didn’t need—or want—a five-million-dollar house.”
“So what do you need?” I ask, sipping on my brandy.
“Just a game, Elias. Just a normal game.”
“I’m playing wrong?” I ask.
She nods. “You want to buy reactions. Jordan is just himself. I know who he is.”
“Who is he?” I ask this because I’m truly interested. I know him, better than her, that’s for sure. But I’m interested in her perception of him.
“He’s a player. He’s into the game, but only as something on the side.”
“And I’m…” I laugh. “Too involved? You want me to ignore you for days at a time? Keep you hanging? That’s funny since you were pissed off when I was twenty minutes late the other day.”
“Almost thirty. And Jordan would’ve called. Which is why I expect more of you.”
“Oh.” I shake my head in disbelief. “I’m not living up to Jordan’s standard of care?”
“Not even a little bit, Elias. I have no idea who you are or what you want. Jordan is just a guy who likes a lot of dirty sex and wants to play a game with me. You’re… you’re in this for something totally different.”
“What’s that?” I ask, but halfheartedly. I’m losing interest.
“You want to break people.”
“Do I?” I can’t stop the guffaw that bursts out.
“Yes,” she says, wiggling that pinky toe at me. “You want control to prove something. Jordan wants control so he can help me.”
I have no words for how ridiculous that is.
“Why can’t you just enjoy it?” she asks. “That’s the part I don’t get.”
“I enjoy myself plenty.”
“No,” Nadia says. “You don’t enjoy any of it. Maybe you did once. When you were playing with your other friends. The ones you used to love.”
“The ones I still love.” It comes out before I can think to stop it.
“Yup,” Nadia says, picking a piece of lint off her sweatshirt. “The ones you still love. You don’t love Jordan. I can see that now. He’s just a replacement. Like me. I think that’s the biggest difference between the two of you. He’s invested in me. You’re not. Not even a little bit. I know this because if you were, you wouldn’t want to break me. You’d want to help me.”
“Like Jordan does?” I ask, mocking her with my question.
“Like Jordan does.”
Just as that last word leaves her mouth, Jordan walks through the front door calling, “Honey, I’m home!”
He almost walks right past my open office door, but slides to a stop in front of it. “Jesus, Bric,” he says, smiling as he walks into the room. “This fucking place, man. It’s amazing.”
“Yeah,” I say, grabbing the third glass on my desk and pouring him a drink. “It’s pretty fucking nice.”
Jordan takes the drink and sinks into the chair next to Nadia. “So what’s up? Did you guys eat? I had a late lunch, so it’s cool if you did. When’s bedtime?” And then he laughs into his glass and almost spits out his drink. He recovers, wiping his hand across his mouth, and leans into Nadia’s space to kiss her on the lips. “I’m sorry I was gone all week.”
Nadia kisses him back, her lips glistening with the brandy still on his mouth. She looks at me and smiles when he pulls away, swiping a finger over her upper lip and then licking off the brandy. “That’s OK,” Nadia says, her voice sweet and soft. Nothing like the voice she uses when talking to me. “Bric kept me busy.”
“I’m sure he did,” Jordan says, standing up and taking her hand. “And I plan on making things up to both of you tonight. Great fucking house, man,” he says, pointing a finger at me as he pulls Nadia to her feet. And before I know what’s happening, he’s got her sweatshirt off. “You look hot, Nadia. Let me help you out of these clothes.”
She giggles.
Fucking. Giggles.
He kisses her neck as he drags the thin string of her tank top down her shoulder. She throws her head back, mouth open, and moans a little.
Really? One neck kiss is enough to bring her to orgasm? I sigh and roll my eyes. She’s fucking with me. I know it. She’s trying to make me jealous or angry. Whatever it is she’s doing, it’s pissing me off.
“Nadia,” I say.
“What?” she breathes. But she doesn’t open her eyes.
“Look at me when I talk to you.”
She opens her lids to half-mast, like this request at this moment is unreasonable, and stares at me. But her hands and her body are both busy with Jordan. She’s threading her fingers through his hair and her leg is rubbing against his and—
“Lie back, Nadia,” Jordan says, holding her by the shoulders so he can position her in front of the desk.
“Yes, sir,” she says, still in that breathy voice.
Good fucking God. Can’t he see she’s fucking with him right now?
“Bric,” Jordan says as he pushes her backwards, making her bend at the waist until her back is flat on the desk and her face is right in front of me. “You take care of that end.”
Jordan reaches for the waistband of her leggings, pulls them down her body, and throws them off to the side. Two seconds later he’s got her spread open with his face buried in her pussy.
I look down at Nadia. Her eyes are closed.
“What are you waiting for?” Jordan asks. I don’t answer him. He doesn’t really want one anyway, because he’s too busy licking her clit.
My eyes shift down to Nadia again. She’s biting her lip. Her face is all screwed up, like she’s about to come on Jordan’s face.
Fuck it. Just fuck it.
I place both my hands on her cheeks, which startles her eyes open—finally—and lean down to kiss her. I expect a little resistance, since she is deliberately trying to piss me off tonight. For what, I’m still not sure. But she doesn’t resist. She opens her mouth and begins to twirl her tongue against mine. Her lips are soft and plump. So her kiss is soft too. But she’s hungry for it. For my kiss. Or maybe my kiss is just a way to keep her mouth busy as Jordan eats her out.
Who knows. Who cares.
I lift her tank top up and shove her bra down, exposing her tits. Making them bunch up towards my face. Jordan is unbuckling his belt. Unzipping his pants. I watch as he takes out his cock and begins to stroke himself.
He looks at me and grins. I grin back, just to make him look away and go back to Nadia. But there’s an ache in my chest.
He’s no Quin.
Quin would know something was wrong. Quin would stop and make sure things are on track. Quin would—
“Would you fucking participate already?” Jordan says. “Come on, man. I really want this tonight.”
I get back into the game and stand up, unbuckling my belt. Take out my cock. And then I say, “Nadia, open your mouth.”
Her grin is something altogether different than Jordan’s.
Her grin stabs at me like a dull knife to the chest. Her grin says she thinks she’s winning this game. I’m the only one going to lose this round.
Well, fuck that. I won’t lose. I can’t lose. Not again. If someone needs to get hurt this time around, it’s not going to be me.
So instead of shoving my cock down her throat I reach across her body and grab Jordan’s hair. I pull him up from between her legs, look Nadia right in the eyes, and kiss him.
He kisses me back immediately, pulling my hair just as hard as I’m pulling his. I catch a glimpse of Nadia’s hand reaching between her legs to play with herself. But then I let it all go and just… enjoy the moment. Because her other hand is reaching behind her head for my cock. She grips it in her hand, squeezing and pumping.
Jordan tastes like Nadia’s pussy and I like it. So I keep kissing him. He takes one hand off my head and reaches for Nadia, twisting her nipple until she squeals.
We break apart from the kiss, staring at each other. He smiles.
And this time I smile back and mean it.
As I‘m thinking that though, Jordan opens Nadia’s legs again, pushing her knees up. I grab her ankles and hold her wide open. An offering. To seal the deal. “Take her,” I say, my voice low and throaty from the heat in this room.
Jordan shakes his head. “We’ll both take her. But I’m happy to go first.”
Longing courses through my body as I watch his thick head disappear inside Nadia’s wet pussy. He grabs her hips, holds them tight, and begins to pump himself deep inside her.
Nadia moans, sits up a little so she can watch him fuck her. I push her all the way up and then jump on the desk, my cock in my hand, pumping to the rhythm of Jordan’s thrusts. Her mouth is ready for me. She opens wide as I come at her. Sucking me in, her tongue pressing flat on my shaft as I grab her head and make her take me deep.
She gags, backs off, and Jordan’s hand covers mine. My urging turns into his urging, turns into our urging.
“Yeah,” he says, still fucking her. And then he pulls out, jumps up on the desk next to me, and pushes the head of his cock at her mouth too. I withdraw just enough to give him room, and Nadia’s hands are on both of us now. Pushing us both into her mouth.
I watch, and then look up, my eyes closing, that’s how good this feels.
“See,” Jordan whispers.
I look at him through my heavy, half-open eyes. “See what?” I ask.
We’re all breathing heavy now. It’s nothing but porn. I almost wish we had a camera set up.
“We’re good at this, Bric,” Jordan says.
I look down at Nadia and find her smiling.
“It’s a good game, brother.”
“Yeah,” I say. “It is.”
“Fuck me,” Nadia says, bringing us back into the moment. “Fuck me,” she says again.
And even though Jordan and I both know she’s trying to take control of this game, we don’t care. He grabs her hands, pulls her up off the desk. I lie down on the hard wood, my legs dangling over the side, just in time for him to pick her up and set her on my lap, facing him. He reaches into his pocket, pulls something out, and tosses it to me.
Lube.
I grin at him and he grins back.
He’s no Quin, but he’s getting closer.
I flip the cap, squeeze the slick gel over Nadia’s ass as she lifts her hips up. A few seconds later she’s moaning loud as I enter her. She sits down, letting me fill her deep, and then Jordan is back, pushing her legs up to her face. I grab her ankles again, make her an offering, and he slides in.
“Fuck,” we both say at the same time.
This is why we do the threesomes. Double penetration is the most sensual feeling in the whole world. For us, and her. Jordan’s dick is sliding past mine as we fuck her, finding our own rhythms until his becomes mine, and we are in sync. I pull out as he pushes in. He pulls out as I push in.
Perfection.
“Choke me,” Nadia says, panting out the words. “Choke me,” she repeats. “Now.”
“Choke her,” I say, looking at Jordan’s slack face and heavy eyes. “She wants you to choke her.”
He growls as he reaches for her throat, his hand perfectly placed, his thumb and fingers squeezing the firm muscle of her jaw. She gasps because he’s squeezing tight, I can tell. But he’s doing it right and she won’t pass out.
She doesn’t want to pass out anyway. She just wants to come.
And we want her to come. Over and over again as we fuck her together.
I reach down between her legs and strum her clit, making her body writhe with pleasure, and then she stills. Goes stiff for half a second as her orgasm takes over.
And then Jordan lets go of her throat and she screams. Her pussy and ass contract at the same time, squeezing our cocks until Jordan and I are both moaning with her.
“Fuck, yeah,” I say, just as Jordan pulls her off me. He holds her tight and this is a move I know well. We’ve done it before. Downstairs in the Club. He’s watched me with Quin. He knows what to do.
I sit on the edge of the desk as Jordan fucks Nadia standing up. He’s holding her up with his palms spread wide across her ass cheeks. He kisses her as he places her in my lap. My dick sliding up against Jordan’s. And then we’re both inside her.
This time it feels way too good to hold back. Jordan comes first. His mouth finding mine as he kisses me. His hand in my hair again. Gripping me. Pulling me into him.
I kiss him back and wait for him to finish.
“On your knees, Nadia,” Jordan says, pulling her off my lap. She obeys, and then he spins her around. She opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue. Her hand on my cock, pumping me Encouraging me.
And then Jordan’s hand covers her.
And they get me off.
I come so hard it splatters across her face, almost missing her mouth completely. But Jordan swipes his fingers across her cheek and she licks them clean.
We laugh, Jordan collapsing against her and me. Nadia quiet for once. Satisfied, it seems.
“Let’s take a shower and try out that new bed,” Nadia says, accepting Jordan’s hand so he can pull her up from the floor.
No one complains, or cares, who’s giving the orders right now.
Later, after we’re all in bed and the shower fucking is over, Nadia sighs. Then Jordan. Then… yes, me as well.
“We got something good here,” Jordan says, half yawning the words out.
“Maybe we do,” I say back, tired and ready for sleep.
Nadia’s hand is on my stomach. Stroking me with a soft touch. One fingernail dragging its way up to my chest. Jordan’s leg is hiked up over one of hers. We’re tangled together and I like it.
He’s no Quin. She’s no Rochelle. And that big, empty hole in my heart is still missing Adley.
But it could work.
It just might work.