Chapter 23: What She Is

I let Posey wash her face, and then I went looking for them.

The club's corridor was long and dim, with a row of doors.

Only one had light under it.

I heard Christian's voice through the wood, and it was not cold at all.

"I won't be the one who loses her," he said. "I've lost enough."

"You haven't lost anything," said Dorian. "None of us has."

"Then why did she look at the three of us tonight and not say a word?"

"Because we're loud," said Maddox, from somewhere farther in. "You and Dorian are always loud."

"I'm not loud."

"You stood in a laundromat at midnight and said 'It's yours,'" said Dorian. "That's the loudest thing you've ever done."

"It was the right thing."

"It was perfect," Dorian said. "I'd have asked her to marry me on the spot."

The corridor went quiet.

"Don't," said Christian.

"Why not? I'd like to."

"She has terms."

"She has a staircase," said Dorian. "And three rules and a fourth, and I'm sorry, I'm not good at rules."

"You're not good at waiting," said Maddox.

"Neither of you is."

"I'm very good at waiting," said Maddox. "I did it for eleven months."

"That wasn't waiting," Dorian said. "That was hiding."

"It was both."

I put my hand on the door and pushed.

They were standing in a small oak-paneled room with a bar cart and a leather sofa.

Christian had his back to the fireplace.

Dorian sat on the arm of the sofa, and Maddox leaned on the wall with his hands in his pockets.

They had not touched one another.

They all stopped when they saw me.

"Rule four," Dorian said quickly. "We weren't fighting."

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