Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Hayes
It’s no surprise when I tell Jagger about me having a fake girlfriend that he demands an in-person meeting, asking to be introduced to Leighton.
He uses the same tone of voice he did when a picture of me passed out in a bar’s VIP lounge circulated.
Unfortunately, that required me to send a text message to Leighton, asking her to please set aside a little of the free time she doesn’t have to meet my agent.
I walk into Peeper’s—Jagger’s choice, which is fine since it’s right under our condo building. It’s afternoon, and the Falcons don’t play until tonight, so it’s dead except for the usual crew of regulars that line the bar.
I stop at the edge of the bar instead of going to the backroom Ruby reserves for us to keep the diamond girls and fans from bothering us. She definitely has a softer heart than she lets on. Ruby has a Doberman exterior, but more of a Labrador interior.
“Why are you here?” she asks, filling a beer for one of her regulars.
“Jagger wants to meet me here.”
She glares at me over the beer handle. “What did you do?”
I blow out a breath. “Other than being a saint, nothing.”
I smile at her, but she doesn’t return it because Ruby finds very little to smile about. Plus, she probably thinks I’m full of shit.
Ruby’s one of those take-no-shit, you-do-what-I-want types of people.
The funny thing is, according to the Falcons players, she’s loosened up a lot over the years.
I imagine the fact that the last few tenants living above her have been professional athletes helps—she’s probably used to our bullshit by now.
She’s one of those hardcore Chicago-will-persevere types you just can’t help but love, even if she shows no love toward you. Though once you get to know her, you realize she does, only in her own small ways.
“I’ll bring it in,” she says, so I go into the back room and turn on the TV, finding a cornhole competition on the sports channel.
Ruby comes in a little bit later and slides a beer in front of me.
“Thanks, Rubes.”
She pulls out a chair and sits. “Are you getting traded? Am I gonna have to get used to some new boy toy on the third floor now?”
When will people stop thinking I’m a screw-up?
“I have a contract until the end of the year.”
“I know, but I’ve seen a lot of shit with all of you athletes—”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but you’re stuck with me, Rubes.”
She doesn’t say anything for a second. “You’re doing good out there.
” She nods in the direction of Webber Field.
“Even the regulars say you are.” She stands and slides her chair into the table.
“I’ll go fix Jagger his usual, although he’ll probably come in with one of those green shakes or some healthy shit.
God, those California types. I don’t understand them. ”
I chuckle, but she squeezes my shoulder and walks out of the room, probably thinking Jagger coming here means my ass is about to be handed to me. She may be right.
My phone vibrates on the table, and I pick it up to see a text from Leighton.
I’m running late, but I promise I’ll be there as soon as I can.
I wanted to tell Jagger to fuck off when he asked for this meeting.
I didn’t want to put anything else on Leighton’s plate, but I also know how important it is to tell your agent what the hell is going on in your life.
I didn’t bring him into the fold last year, and that proved to be a massive mistake.
Take your time. I’m sorry you have to come here in the first place.
Her text pops up immediately.
It’s fine. You’ve done me all kinds of favors. I can do this one for you.
I’m not keeping score, just so you know.
Then good for both of us that I’m a list person.
I want to flirt back, but I’m struggling after our conversation in the alley.
I can’t help but wonder if she thinks I’m still that guy from last year but doesn’t want to tell me.
Every part of me wants to prove her wrong, but something stops me—can I have it all?
Can I be the baseball player I aspire to be, a good partner to her, and have a role in the kids’ lives?
I’m not sure, so I text back the only thing I can think of.
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.
“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.
“Are you attached?” He looks at Decker and Easton. “Is he attached?”
“No.” My tone of voice reminds me of some preteen kid getting teased about his crush. “I’m not attached.”
Easton smacks me in the chest with the back of his hand. “Our boy is, in fact, attached. They both like to pretend they don’t like each other. It’s some eighth-grade bullshit.”
“She doesn’t like me.” If they heard her yesterday in the alley, they’d know she used the word crush, which means she likes the way I look but doesn’t trust me with her heart.
“See, eighth-grade bullshit.” Easton shrugs.
“You’re blind, Hayes,” Decker says.
“Did he tell you it’s his sister’s best friend?”
I wish I could punch the shit-eating grin right off Easton’s face. Instead, I narrow my eyes at him. “Were you the tattletale of your big Alaskan family?”
Easton sticks his tongue out at me.
“I already told him to stay away from fucking drama this year, but here we are.” Jagger leans back and looks at his watch.
“How about you guys talk like I’m actually in the room?”
“It’s the forbidden,” Easton says, nodding as if he’s all-knowing. “Temptation.”
“It’s a red flag,” Decker says.
Easton groans. “You need to live a little.”
“Callie’s not like that.” I swallow hard.
Other than the one time when a girl cornered me at a party when I was a senior and they were sophomores.
She was Callie’s friend, and Callie pushed me into our parents’ bedroom and yelled at me to stay the fuck away from her friends.
“It’s fake, guys. We’re in it for her to get the kids. ”
Jagger blows out a breath. “I don’t know how you come to Chicago for a fresh start and end up here.
We have our plan—we’re gonna have this banner year where you’re gonna work out nonstop, work with the coaches, become the player no one can deny is on top of his game, and now you’ve decided fuck all that, I don’t want to be Hayes Haymaker Carlisle, the best catcher in the league.
I’d much rather play Ward fucking Cleaver. ”
I was right, Jagger is pissed at me.
It’s not going to change my plan.
“Who’s that?” Decker asks as if Jagger’s nostrils aren’t flaring.
Easton raises his hand. “Sorry, I’m on board with Deck. Who is Ward Cleaver?”
“You guys are useless.” Jagger shakes his head, and now he’s even more pissed off, which worries me for when Leighton arrives. “Let me think of a reference you’d know. Phil Dunphy.”
“From Modern Family?” Decker nods.
“Hayes isn’t Phil.” Easton shakes his head.
“Can we just stop this conversation?” I cross my arms.
“Let me get to the point because Quinn came with me on this trip, and I’d really rather be with her. You know, my real wife?”
I wave. “Then get to the point already.”
Jagger straightens and puts his hands on the table. “Now that you have adopted a family, we might as well make it public so it will help your career.”
“So now it wasn’t a shitty career-ending decision?” I raise my eyebrows at him.
“I’m making the best out of what you’re giving me, but let me start by saying this is not your brightest decision.”
I just want this over with, so I don’t respond with a smartass remark. I pick up my phone to check my texts, but there’s nothing from Leighton.
The door opens a bit but slams shut. Then I hear two female voices arguing on the other side.
We all look at one another.
“Be on your best behavior, jackasses.” I slide my chair out and get up to go save Leighton from Ruby.