Page 70 of His Turn

“Oh, yeah, I can picture it now. Nadia, Jordan, and Br—Elias forever.”

“Why not?” I ask. “If we all play well, it could happen. I spent three years with the last girl.”

“Who,” she spits, “the fuck would spend three years with you?”

Rochelle, I say in my head. And Quin. “People who play well, that’s who.”

“Then why aren’t you still together?”

“Because they fell in love and left together.”

“Wait,” she says. And when I turn to look at her, she’s got her hand up in a stop gesture. “You had a threesome for three years?” Her face is all scrunched up like this makes no sense to her. “And they fell in love. So you just… bowed out? Or it was a bad break-up?”

“It doesn’t matter—”

“The fuck it doesn’t!” And now she’s animated and smiling again. So… getting the upper hand is what makes her tick, huh? “How about this, Elias. You want to get to know my secrets? Then you have to offer yours up in return.”

“I have nothing to hide, Nadia. We played a good game.”

“Did you love her?”

“Sure,” I say, shrugging. “I loved her. But not the way Quin loved her. And they had a baby.”

“A baby!” She’s practically cackling now. “Holy fuck. This is a delicious story, isn’t it? I need to know everything.”

I turn back to the food, find it ready, and then push the toast down in the toaster. “Ask anything you want. I have nothing to hide. And if you think talking about them makes me uncomfortable, you’re wrong. I’m happy to tell you all about them.”

“It was his baby?” she asks.

I roll my eyes as I grab two more plates from the cupboard. But she can’t see me because my back is still turned. “Yes. I wouldn’t walk away from my own baby, even if they were in love.”

“Boy? Girl?”

“Girl,” I say, loading up our plates. “Adley. Fucking adorable, if I do say so myself.”

“How old?”

I think for a second. “Like seven months now.”

“Were you there for the birth?”

“No,” I say, just as the toast pops up. “Rochelle left when she was only a few months pregnant. We didn’t meet the baby until she was six months old.”

“Wait,” Nadia says. “So this shit just happened, didn’t it? Was this the reason Jordan sent me to you on Christmas? Awww,” she says. And when I turn and place the new food in front of her and take the old plate away, she’s got her hand over her heart in a mock gesture of swooning. “Jordan gave me to you to cheer you up.”

I butter the toast, cut it, and place her diagonally-cut pieces on her plate. “Congratulations,” I say. “You’ve got me all figured out.”

“So how—”

“Eat,” I say, kinda sick of this game but not willing to give her more ammunition than she earned. “I won’t make it again, even if it does get cold. And you’re gonna eat it no matter what this time.”

Surprisingly, she gives in to that and picks up a piece of bacon. “So how come you were sad that night? I mean, if you so willingly walked out of that game?”

“Who says I was sad?”

“Well, obviously Jordan doesn’t go around giving away his best woman to just anyone.”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “He’s got more than one of you?”