“I don’t think that’s the solution.”
“Then what is?” Mellie demands.
“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “What do you want to do?”
“I just told you.”
“No, you told me what you think is best forme. I want to know whatyou, Mellie Elizabeth Kensington, want and need.”
She hesitates for a moment as if really pondering how to answer. When she opens and closes her mouth several times like a fish struggling to breathe, I grin.
“Spit it out,” I encourage.
“I want my life back,” she blurts. “More than that, though, I want to recognize it as my life.”
“Okay. What do you need?”
“Space,” she replies quickly, and I do my best to mask the hurt that one word causes. “I know you’re trying your best, and I appreciate it, I really do, but…”
“But what?”
“I need to get to know you again. I need to relearn who we are to each other without any pressure. You moved me in here, and I didn’t really question it because I didn’t know where else to go. You’ve been there through all of this, even when your focus should probably have been elsewhere, and that matters. I just don’t know if it matters because I’m grateful not to be alone or if it’s because my heart and soul recognize you despite the fact that my brain doesn’t.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to point out that I tried to give her space by putting her in another room.Mellie’sthe one who chose to return to our shared quarters. I’m not a stupid man, though, and keep my mouth shut about it.
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I can do that, all of it.” Urging her to her feet, I stand. “But first, we celebrate Rowdy and his legacy.”
17
MELLIE
Lyric and I returned to the common room, where the majority of the crowd is gathered to celebrate Rowdy. Nothing is settled between us, but I do feel better knowing that he’s willing to give me the space I need to figure shit out.
“Hey, Mellie.”
I turn toward the voice and watch as Savvy sits on the empty stool next to me at the bar. Scanning the room, I spot Lyric talking with some of the brothers who came in from other chapters, and I decide not to bother him. Whatever Savvy has to say, I’ll just have to deal with it on my own.
“Hi.”
“Can we talk for a minute?”
I take a sip of the white wine Junior poured for me. “Yeah, sure.”
She sighs, and I get the feeling that she was nervous about how I’d react to her. “I’m really sorry about Peach,” she begins. “She won’t be interfering again.”
“That’s not your apology to make,” I tell her.
“It kinda is.”
Curious, I ask, “Why?”
“Well, I’m the oldest of the club whores and have always sorta been in charge of them,” she explains. “I, uh, know you don’t remember, but you and I talked a lot about this when you originally moved into the clubhouse.”
“We did?”
She huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, we did. At the time, you didn’t want to come across like a controlling bitch, and the guys were up in arms because they were worried that you’d take away their fun. We came to an agreement that, while you’ve got the final say with regards to the girls, I’m basically the go-between.”
“Makes sense, I guess.” I process her words, and a question arises. “I’ve noticed that there aren’t many women around here. I mean, other than you and the other club girls.”
