Page 40 of Turning Back

When we had our first meeting with Chella about the rules, it was pretty out of the ordinary. She was in control the whole time. What’s my dream? I don’t need a dream, I’m just here for the sex.

Rochelle’s rule meeting was more like… OK. OK. OK.

Whatever we said, she was OK with it. You’re gonna pay me thirty grand a month to fuck me on alternating days of the week? Sure thing. You want to give me a free place to live, buy my food, and give me gifts? I’m in. You want to dress me up like a socialite and take me to parties? No problem.

When we dished out our rules to Rochelle, she took it like a champ. No touching from Quin unless Bric is there? Kinky fun. Smith can do whatever he wants with me? I can deal. And when I told her no feelings—like none—or we’d kick her to the curb, well, she didn’t even blink an eye at me.

She was on board.

Rochelle is as easy-going as they come.

This rule meeting is not going to be like that at all. I’ve been thinking it over ever since I left her place down in Pagosa Springs.

I need her to balk. I need her to resist. I need her to be uncomfortable. That is the only way Quin will think this is real. He wants to punish her. He might not admit that to us, or even himself. But that’s what he wants. I know him. I got this, Quin.

“What rules?” Rochelle asks. “I thought this was—”

“Yeah, what rules?” Quin eyes me suspiciously.

I already know what Rochelle thinks about my rules. We discussed them earlier and I told her what to think. We’re back together so she can snag Quin. Get him back. Make him commit to her. And I’m only here as the buffer.

And I know what Quin thinks too. I told him as well. Planted all the little ideas in his head. We’re good together. We have fun. Rochelle is the perfect player. Things can go back to the way they were.

We will be happy again. My manipulative personality will make sure this game goes to plan. But there’s a very fine line with these two. My happiness depends on both of them thinking they need me.

Here’s the problem with that. I don’t think Quin really needs much convincing to fall hopelessly back in love with Rochelle all by himself. And I don’t think Rochelle needs me to keep Quin interested.

I need them way more than they need me.

Usually, I’m happy no matter what. Last year I was happy with Rochelle just as much as I was without her. But I like fucking girls with Quin, OK? I like it. He’s the best player ever. Smith sucks at it. And he’s out for good now, anyway. And Jordan, Jesus. If Smith sucks, then Jordan is absolutely awful. It will take me years to turn Jordan into Quin. Years.

I don’t want to wait years for happiness. Why should I when I have these two right here, right now?

So I only have two choices. Keep Quin and Rochelle for myself and have a good time by manipulating them into thinking they need me. Or let them go be happy together and be left with an endless string of stupid games that never last and end badly.

This is a no-brainer.

Quin is too afraid to have a one-on-one relationship with Rochelle because he doesn’t trust her, plus he only thinks in plural relationships right now. And Rochelle is too afraid to cut me loose because she thinks Quin won’t stay if I go.

So why not use them both at the same time?

And I get to spoil that baby and never have any real responsibilities.

I almost laugh at my genius.

“I was thinking every other day,” I say, answering them both at the same time. “You know. Mondays with Quin. Tuesdays with me. Etc. Etc. Etc.”

“What about Sunday?” Rochelle asks, slurping up a noodle so loudly, Adley looks over at her mother and squeals.

“Do whatever you want on Sunday, just like always.”

“Not quite like always,” Quin says. “I wasn’t technically allowed to see her on Sundays.”

“You want to see her on Sundays?” I ask him. “Go ahead. I’ve got plans. So I won’t be around.”

Quin thinks about this. It’s just my opening bid. I know exactly what he’ll say next.

“I don’t think we need rules,” Quin replies.