“Decker is the world’s best babysitter. Didn’t you know that, Jagger?” Easton turns to Decker. “I feel like your agent should know that fact about you. It’s a selling point.”
Decker drinks his beer and rolls his eyes.
“That’s great news, you can babysit Hayes’s new kid crew he’s taken on.” Jagger sends a look my way.
Easton’s head rolls back. “Ah, should’ve figured that’s why you’re here. The best friend.”
“Good, you told them. It’s about time you all start bonding and knowing shit about one another. Make a little family here.” Jagger brings his glass to his lips.
I look back at the door, hoping Ruby isn’t stopping Leighton from getting in. I should have told her we were expecting her. “I didn’t tell them.”
Jagger’s eyebrows lift. “But you guys all hang together. Don’t you? They should know this kinda shit.”
Easton and Decker turn to one another, then set their eyes on me, expecting me to answer.
“The Falcons would know this about one another,” Jagger grumbles, only adding more fuel to us being pissed about his favoritism.
“Stop comparing us to the Falcons,” Decker says.
Jagger holds up his hand in defense mode. “Sorry, but they were like this golden age, you know? I just want the same for you guys. There are some differences though—like there are only three of you, and there were four of them. Well actually—” He stops abruptly and looks at Decker for a longer beat then shakes his head. “That’s about all, I guess.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Easton raises his hand. “What aren’t you telling us?”
Jagger shrugs. “Nothing. I don’t keep secrets from you.”
Decker glances between Easton and me, then back at Jagger. “Bullshit.”
I have to agree with them. Jagger keeps plenty of stuff from us. He’s always been a fan of the dramatic and surprises. Like when he got the Colts to trade for me, he knew I wanted it badly and didn’t tell me they were even interested. Then one day, he shows up in Seattle, asks who my daddy is, and tells me to pack my bag.
“It’s nothing. There are just some talks going on, but it’s early stages, so I can’t say anything.” Jagger lifts his drink to his lips again.
What talks could be happening? And why is it related to there maybe being four of us? Who the fuck would be coming to Chicago? For his comment to make sense, he’d have to think it’s someone who would want to hang out with us.
No, no fucking way. Could Foster be making a trade? But he has at least three more years in Seattle, so I can’t see that happening. Not to mention Vega hates him. He’s the only guy I’d want to see come here. But then I glance at Decker, and from his scowl, I think he’s wondering the same thing. The last person he’d want to show up on this team’s roster is his twin brother.
Jagger turns the conversation back to the topic at hand. “Well, boys, let me be the one to tell you. Hayes has decided to throw his hat in for Father of the Year. He’s adopted a fake family with a fake girlfriend and fake kids. Don’t you think it’s a brilliant idea, what with this being his comeback year and all?”
His sarcasm isn’t lost, and fuck, the way he says it makes me feel as though it might actually be a massive problem.
“So, you made a special trip?” Decker asks, not showing any reaction.
“Yup,” Jagger says.
My hand tightens around my beer. “No. He was coming here anyway because one of the Falcons—Conor or Tweetie, whoever—had an endorsement deal he had to be a part of.”
Jagger’s lips thin, and his eyes drill into mine like a displeased father. Whatever, I already have a father.
“I think it’s great. I mean, she’s great. The kids are great,” Decker says, always the one trying to keep the peace.
“Yeah, they are great. I mean, I will say that kid Lincoln—I’m not joking, Jagger, that kid fucking loves me.” Easton leans back in his chair, grinning.
“Get over yourself.” I roll my eyes.
Easton knows it pisses me off, so he gives me a thumbs-up.
Jagger studies me.
“What?” I ask, annoyance in my tone.
