Me: Just be careful and take your time.
The minute I put my phone on the table, the door opens and Jaggar strolls in.
I do a double-take. “Sorry, this is a private room.”
“Haha, asshole.”
“Joggers, a T-shirt, and running shoes? Who are you and what did you do with my agent?”
“Who am I?” He sits across from me at the table. “Apparently I’m the only one who uses the gym I pay for all you fuckers to have access to.”
“We go there… sometimes.” I smile before sipping my beer.
“You do know I get reports of who’s scanned in and out, right?” He puts one leg up on the chair beside him and stretches.
“We’re in season. So get on the Grizzlies.” I take another sip of my beer.
“I don’t have time to meet with them because I spend all my time with your sorry asses.” He groans, putting his one arm across his chest to stretch.
“Need me to call you an ambulance?”
He flips me off.
“It’s okay, no one is here, you can tell me how I’m your favorite.” I smile wide with arrogance.
He glances at the door and back at me. “My favorite problem child.”
“Problem child? I’m a new man this year. Give me some credit.”
“You had some until you adopted a whole fucking family. What the hell, Carlisle?”
I laugh because, as much as his opinions aren’t always my favorite, Jagger’s still always seen my worth and believed in me. That’s harder to find in this industry than you’d think.
“You told me to do this.” I arch an eyebrow at him.
“I told you to get on the straight and narrow. Find a girl and go on a few dates, take a few pictures. I didn’t say find a girl who is a guardian to three kids and pretend to be a family man.”
The door opens in the middle of our conversation.
“Oh shit, Daddy’s here, and he looks mad,” Easton says as he swaggers in. “What did our little Hayes do this time?”
Easton and Decker both shake hands with Jagger. He compliments them on their performance lately.
“This is a Jagger-and-me conversation, so you guys can go wait outside.” I thumb in the direction of the door.
They both look at one another, then Easton shakes his head. “Nah, we’ll stay.”
“They’re your housemates even if they are the world’s worst babysitters.” Jagger scowls at them.
I don’t bother correcting him that we might be building mates, but we don’t share the same apartment.
Ruby comes in with Jagger’s usual drink in a highball glass, and a beer for both Easton and Decker.
“I love you, Ruby,” Jagger says.
She doesn’t say anything before leaving. It’s either getting busier outside of this room or she’s not in the mood to deal with Jagger’s shit.
“I don’t think she likes me.” Jagger looks legitimately hurt.
