Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Leighton
After getting off the train, I stop and huddle closer to the building, so I don’t get trampled by the foot traffic.
It’s warmer than I expected, so I strip off my sweatshirt and tie it around my waist. Being more economical sucks, but having three kids to support means the L train and buses rather than cabs or even Ubers.
I glance at the GPS on my phone, walking up the few blocks to where Hayes lives.
I’m supposed to meet him in the back room of a bar named Peeper’s Alley.
I’ve heard of it, of course. It’s the bar you go to if you want to sleep with one of the three Colts players who live in the building.
The back room is like some makeshift speakeasy you can only get into if one of the guys invites you in.
Sometimes when I see the posts from the diamond girls talking about spotting Hayes and his friends, or when they say they slept with one of them, it’s hard to believe that it’s Hayes they’re talking about.
Even if I wasn’t a new guardian to three kids, I don’t think I’d want that life, or a boyfriend with a lifestyle that left me in constant competition with a bunch of other women.
Then again, the way Hayes looked at me in the alley the other day…
his body pressed against mine, his arm above my head.
Everything in me begged to just let him kiss me.
Have fun with him and see what happens. Then I heard the logical voice in my head—that isn’t your life anymore.
You can’t have the pleasure of sleeping with a guy and seeing where it goes. Those days are long gone.
I heave for breath after the uphill jaunt to their condo building that’s nestled in the Colts’ little area of the city.
Bars litter the streets, and all the stores have to do with baseball or Chicago sports teams. Three-flat apartment and condo buildings with rooftops to watch a Colts game line the street. Hayes lives one happy life.
I stand in front of their building, and it feels like a tourist destination when I see a cardboard sign with The Corral written in a girly script.
There are a few white pieces of paper on it, more promises of a good time.
I can’t imagine coming home and finding a slew of messages from guys with invitations to massage my feet and spoon-feed me ice cream.
The life of a professional baseball player.
I sigh, ignoring my annoyance with the notes and mental images of Hayes entertaining one of the girls’ promises. Peeper’s Alley has a nice wooden sign with black lettering. There are a few neon beer brand lights in the window, but it’s definitely an older vibe than the other bars around here.
It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness inside the bar. There aren’t a lot of people in here except for at the stools along the bar, all filled with men who look as though they have designated seats and if they show up and someone’s in them, they’re told to get the hell out.
I scan the room, seeing a door in the back that says Keep Out. That’s where Hayes told me to go, so I heft my bags on my shoulder and weave through the tables, my eye on the door.
I’m not sure what Hayes’s agent wants to talk to me about, but Hayes has done enough for me that I can do this for him.
Even if it meant asking my dad to pick up Lake from her after school activity and driving her home before her friend’s mom picks her up for a sleepover.
With my mom watching Monroe and Lincoln, their paths will collide, and I’m sure it won’t be pretty, but hopefully they’ll keep it in check since the kids will be around.
I start to open the door, but a hand covers mine and slams it shut.
I blink and draw back, turning to see an older woman with red hair glaring at me.
“You’re early but let me give you some advice—around here, the early bird doesn’t get the worm.” The short woman moves to stand as a sentinel in front of the door and crosses her arms.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for Hayes. Hayes Carlisle.”
Her drawn-on eyebrows raise. “Yeah, not gonna happen.”
“He’s expecting me.” Surely, she’ll let me in once she finds out who I am.
“Come up with something original.”
I glance over my shoulder to see if there are television crews around. Am I on one of those prank shows? But all I see are all the older men with beer bellies hanging over their pants, staring at me.
I circle back around and smack on a smile. “I think there’s some confusion here.”
The doorknob twists in her palm, but she tightens her hand and her teeth clench from the strength it’s taking to not allow whoever is on the other side of the door to open it.
She points at a table in the corner with her other hand. “You can wait for him to come out if you’re that desperate. But I’m telling you, you don’t have a shot with him.”
My head rears back. “Maybe I don’t want a shot with him.” I should throw it in her face that just the other day he wanted to stick his tongue down my throat. Have that, crazy lady.
She finally releases the doorknob and wrings out her arm.
Hayes stands in the doorframe, and yeah, I do want a shot with him. In another life, obviously, because any shot we might have had in this one is over.
“Leighton.”
I lean forward, wanting him to say my name like that again, as if he’s been waiting all day for me to show up.
The red-haired woman throws her hands in the air. “I give up. You guys are just asking for it.”
She moves to walk away, but Hayes quickly scurries out of the room and puts his arm around her shoulders, guiding her back over to me. “Rubes, I want to introduce you to Leighton. My girlfriend.”
He winks at me. I guess the whole fake dating thing has begun.
“Her?” Her eyebrows raise another inch.
I glance down at myself. “I look better out of my scrubs.”
Hayes smirks, and his gaze flows down my body and back up.
“I bet,” a guy on one of the stools says.
“I like to play doctor,” another one says.
“You two are out!” Ruby points at them. “What do you think this is, a brothel? You don’t say that shit to a woman.”
To her credit, the two men mumble an apology and toss cash on the bar top then leave.
She looks back at Hayes. “She looks too nice and too cute for you.”
I preen under her compliment even if I’m being compared to who she’s most likely seen on Hayes’s arm before. The supermodel types—gorgeous and stunning. Not me with my strawberry-blonde hair and freckles along my cheeks and nose.
“Well, Rubes, you always know just what to say.” He motions between us. “Leighton, this is Ruby. She owns the bar, and she’s like our bodyguard. Excuse her brashness, that’s just her.”
I put out my hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
She rolls her eyes and circles out of Hayes’s arms. “What do you drink? Never mind, I’ll just bring something the girls like.”
I raise my finger. “I’ll just take a water. I have to get home to the kids.”
Her eyebrows go another inch higher, but she disappears behind the bar.
Hayes’s eyes find mine. “Hey,” he says in that drippy, sweet, lazy way again, as if he’s been counting the minutes until he could see me.
Get a grip, Leighton. Fake—remember?
He holds out his hand and leads me into the room, shutting the door behind him.
The room is a definite man den with a pinball machine, dart boards, and a giant round table with a bunch of chairs around it. There’s also a ton of Colts paraphernalia on the walls, along with some televisions. It’s a man’s paradise apparently.
My gaze snags on Decker and Easton, who I didn’t know would be here, but at least I know them.
A man I don’t know stands and puts his hand out in front of me. “Jagger Kale.”
I slide my hand into his, lifting my bags higher on my shoulder. His palm is smooth, free of calluses, and has a softness that says he’s not big on manual labor. But damn, he’s good-looking in a rich kid bad-boy-with-money kind of way. “Leighton Sinclair.”
“Nice to meet the woman who’s been able to tame this guy.” He puts his hand on Hayes’s neck and squeezes.
“We heard you met Ruby?” Decker asks. “She grows on you.”
She’d have to, I don’t say.
“I am so sorry I’m late.” I heft my bags another time, but Hayes takes them from my grip, sliding the straps down my arm.
“Oh look, doing the boyfriend moves already,” Easton says.
“Have a seat, Leighton.” Jagger goes back to the table and pulls out a chair for me.
Ruby walks in and places a bottle of water in front of me and sets down some refills for the guys.
“Ruby, did you meet Hayes’s fake girlfriend?” Easton laughs.
Jagger throws a balled-up napkin at him, and it pings off his forehead. “Dumbass.”
“Ruby isn’t going to tell anyone,” Easton argues.
I have nothing to worry about. I doubt social services are going to come here and ask her about me.
“Fake?” Ruby eyes Hayes.
“It’s a long story,” he says.
“You boys and your games. Leighton, do whatever you have to do, but I’m not getting attached.” She walks away, and the door slams shut behind her.
Jagger glances at me. “At least you picked a girl next door, sweet and wholesome.”
I want to scoff, but I narrow my eyes at Jagger. “Just what every woman wants to hear.”
“She does not look like the girl next door,” Easton mumbles.
Hayes shoots Easton a death look.
The thought of Hayes possibly being jealous shouldn’t make my stomach flip a little, but it does.
Easton raises both hands. “I’m just saying—she’s not the girl next door.”
Hayes inches closer to me and puts his arm around the back of my chair.
“I’m sorry. I married a girl-next-door type, so it was meant to be a compliment. Are you into romance novels?” Jagger asks.
“I’m sorry?” It takes me a beat to make sense of the words since this conversation is going in a very different direction than I expected.
“Do you read romance novels?”
“I don’t know. I—maybe, like, sometimes. Not in a while. I haven’t had the time.” I shrug.
“Right. I heard about your loss, which I am very sorry about.”
“Thank you.” I’m trying to be polite though I still don’t understand why he needed to meet me.
“My wife is a romance writer. So, if you’re ever in the market, I’ll give you her name.”
“Ah… sure. That would be great.” I glance at Hayes, but he seems nonplussed with Jagger’s segue into this line of conversation.
“She has the best inspiration for her heroes, so of course they’re the best,” Jagger says.
“Clearly.” I cringe. “That sounded sarcastic. I didn’t mean for it to sound that way. I’m sure you are her inspiration.”
Hayes squeezes my shoulder.
“I’m going to make this quick.” Jagger blows out a breath.
“Thanks for coming, Leighton. But unfortunately, you’re not going to get my charming personality that most of the girlfriends and wives do because you two have put yourself in a situation that could end up being really bad for Hayes if it’s outed.
So, what we have to make sure is that this whole fake thing stays a secret.
All of us in this room know. And thanks to Easton, Ruby knows, but she’s like a vault.
I’m not worried about her. No one else outside of this room needs to know. ”
“Well, the kids,” I say.
He shakes his head. “No, the kids do not need to know.”
I glance at Hayes, not wanting to lie to the kids. But they’re all so young. I don’t think they could really understand anyway. Plus, I don’t want them overly worried that they won’t be able to remain with me and letting them in on this plan would certainly up their anxiety.
“Does your lawyer know?” Jagger interrupts my thoughts.
“I think she suspects,” Hayes answers.
“She does, I’m pretty sure.” I nod.
“Well, you can let her suspect, but don’t ever give it any weight or admit it.
From here on out, you guys are a couple.
Every time you are seen outside of closed doors—you are in love.
Hayes, your hand is either in hers or on her every single time you walk out of a building.
You’re gonna nuzzle your head into the crook of her neck, and you’re gonna give her little kisses on the cheek and on the lips.
You’re gonna run your hand along her back, around her thigh. ”
Panic sparks in my veins. To have Hayes touching me as if I’m his? How will I ever be able to keep my feelings straight?
“I think you’ve been reading too many of Quinn’s romance novels,” Easton says.
“I agree,” Decker says. “I mean, next you’re gonna have him fucking her in the alley.”
“Also, why doesn’t Hayes get touched?” Easton asks.
Jagger rubs his chin, looking as though he’s considering their protests to be real suggestions. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Get a picture taken of the two of you, hot and heavy in Ruby’s alley? Have at it. I’ll call somebody and get a picture out to the world—”
“That’s not exactly like a relationship. That’s a hookup,” Decker says.
“It is what people in a relationship do,” Jagger counters. “At least a good one. And Leighton can give our boy a little thigh rub and fingers in the hair on the back of his head now and again.”
“I’m not a dog,” Hayes says with a frown.
Everyone laughs.
Jagger points at the two of us. “Lucky for you guys, I have a charity gala for the Children’s Hospital you can attend together as a couple. I’ll volunteer Decker to babysit for you.”
“Gala?” I’m sure they must hear the strain in my voice.
They all smile as though it should be the easiest thing in the world for me.
I should have told the judge the truth because I’m way out of my league here.