"She moved in," Madison repeated, to the room.
"I was there," Chloe said. "I helped."
"You're all so calm about this."
"I'm extremely calm about this," Emily said. "That's the point."
From the kitchen, audible through the open doorway, Irish said something that Rampage replied to in a low voice, and Clover barked once, and the domestic normalcy of it landed on Emily. She was home. Their apartment or the clubhouse, itdidn’t matter. Both had become home because Rampage was there.
Lily leaned close to her camera. "Tell us everything. From the beginning."
"I already told Chloe everything."
"Chloe told ussomethings and then said it was your story to tell and we've been waiting very patiently."
"You sent forty-seven emojis in three days," Emily said. "That's not patient."
"For me that's patient." Lily's expression was earnest. "Emily. We love you. We want to know. We're your people. And we have to do something about there being two Lilys. One of us is going to need a nickname." Everyone laughed.
She looked at the screen. At the faces of the women who'd been her people through bad dates and job stress and moving boxes and 2 AM texts and the particular specific intimacy of being known.
She told them everything.
An hour in, Rampage appeared in the doorway of the common room. Looked at the screen. Looked at Emily.
"I'm going to make rounds," he said. "You need anything?"
She held up her mug. Empty.
He took it without comment and disappeared to the kitchen.
Six faces on the screen watched this with varying degrees of composure.
"He just—" Holly started.
"Yes," Emily said.
"Without being asked?—"
"Yes."
Madison pressed both hands over her heart.
He came back with a full mug and set it beside her and went to do his rounds, and Emily picked up the mug and went back to the conversation, and if she was smiling more than was strictlynecessary, her people were gracious enough not to make too much of it.
They made a little of it.
That was fair.
CHAPTER 22
RAMPAGE
She was no longer staying in the guest room at the Clubhouse. Now, when they stayed there, she shared his officer’s apartment. The bathroom door opened and Emily came out. The room already smelled like her shampoo and had her blanket on the bed.
He stood.
She crossed to him and put her hands on his chest and looked up at him. "I'm not in little space," she said. "I'm not scared and I'm not processing anything." She held his gaze. "I just want you. Specifically. All of you.” They’d played some in the last month when he’d visited her at her apartment, but they still hadn’t had sex. He knew exactly what she was asking.
