“Okay, but we aren’t married. We aren’t even boyfriend and girlfriend. We are that level of relationship where when you’re forced to make an introduction to someone, you’re like, ‘this is Laurel, my—’ And then you fake cough to keep from having to figure out what the hell to call me.”
“That’s not true; I introduced you in Chicago as my girlfriend. Or Mia did. Same difference.”
“Not really, and that was without my agreement. Since then, we have taken no steps in the direction of boyfriend-girlfriend classification, let alone marriage.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, I meant…” Apparently no longer needing to pin me down, he rolls off me and back into his spot. “You know why the men in my family don’t divorce?”
“Nope, but I bet it’s a crazy reason. Your family is fucking nuts.”
Rafe smiles. “It’s not, actually, it’s a sensible one. The idea is, if a man can’t even run his own household, how the hell is he supposed to run this whole family? You can’t have confidence a man is a good leader if he can’t even keep his wife in hand.”
Groaning, I cover my face with my hands. “How? How did I get mixed up in a family of such sexist caveman psychos?”
Ignoring me, he goes on. “Now, I’m not saying I would kill you before I’d let you leave, but there are multiple men in my family who have found that a more suitable alternative than being made to look like an asshole to the rest of the family. I’m new to this position. It’s weird timing to have to deal with a budding relationship to begin with, but for me to finally knock someone up and not be able to hang onto her? To actively try, and to lose her to my enforcer? I can’t have that, Laurel. I’m sorry if it makes me sound like a prick, but there’s a way of doing things, and appearances do matter. At least for right now, I need you to stick it out. I’m not saying forever, but I can’t let you out of this right now. You have no idea how hard it has been to hold onto this power, how many of my own men I’ve had to eliminate or start looking at twice, wondering if I’m right to trust them. And now, yeah, Sin is one of them. He was my hammer when I took over. He was someone I knew had my back, and then you happened, and now I don’t know anything anymore. He’s willing to turn on me over some girl he didn’t even fuck. What the hell is that?”
“He has not turned on you, Rafe. He hasn’t. He didn’t fuck me and he has not turned on you. Don’t start looking at your friends and seeing enemies.”
“This boss job is no joke. It changes everything. Nobody is the same now as they were before, not even me.”
He clearly needs someone, and even though I know I am not the one for him, I’m the only one here right now. So, I snuggle up beside him and wrap my arm around him. “I’m sorry it’s harder than you thought it would be. Don’t let me come between you and Sin, though. Every time he talks to me, he makes sure to remind me he only cares because I’m one of your ‘interests.’ Sin has not turned on you. He would never do that. He is loyal to you, so don’t fuck it up over me.”
Wrapping his arm around me, he watches me. “Would you tell me if that changed?”
“What?” I ask, hesitantly.
“If he turns on me, you’ll likely find out before I do.”
“Rafe, he’s not going to turn on you.”
“Humor me,” he says, apparently relentless in this. “If it comes down to picking sides, I need to know you’ll be on mine.”
This conversation is making my stomach hurt. “It won’t come down to that. You two are on the same side.”
With a faint smile, he nods. “It’s his side, then. All right.”
“No—I didn’t say that.”
“Sure you did,” he answers. “It’s fine. Go to sleep.”
My stomach twists with anxiety as I imagine the possible ramifications of him holding such a belief. “Rafe, come on… I don’t like this.”
Instead of pushing me away like Sin would, Rafe’s arm tightens around me. “You’re right. It won’t come down to that. I appreciate your honesty.”
“I did not say I would take Sin’s side over yours.”
Instead of wasting his breath arguing with me, Rafe leans over, gives me a kiss, and closes his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. Our relationship isn’t where it needs to be yet. I knew that, it was just a nice thought. Don’t lose sleep over it. Goodnight, kitten.”
28
Sin
I have irons in the fire all over town today. Making Rafe’s love life my pet project was a bad idea for my sleep schedule. There are too many fucking girls to keep track of. I’ve blown Marlena off enough times that she has stopped texting me, so that’s one less pain in the ass I have to deal with. Much easier to just check in on her with the bugs. Eventually she was going to pounce on me, and it would have been hard to explain why I kept coming over if I didn’t want to fuck her. I can’t keep an eye on her outside of the apartment, but that she hasn’t done anything sketchy while she’s home alone—not one phone call—makes me think maybe she isn’t that kind of problem. I still think Rafe was attracted to her, but I can’t put them together, so at least he seems to be keeping his distance.
Since Rafe and I are taking a little break from one another right now, I’m defaulting back to my old routine and checking in with Gio rather than Rafe. I don’t like what that could mean. I’m going to have to make time to meet him out one of these nights. I’ve been so busy keeping an eye on Cassandra and Marlena, I haven’t had a few hours to waste at the club with him in the evenings. He might start taking that personally, and I don’t want that headache.
When I roll up to Gio’s, Lydia is the one who answers the door. The baby is on her shoulder, dressed in a bright teal sweatshirt and pants.
Lydia lets me inside, yammering on about how I need to walk carefully because the maid just waxed the floors, and how she told the maid never to wax the floors in the morning—on and on about these fucking floors.