CHAPTER FOURTEEN

MCKINLEY

We get to the hotel and he says goodbye to his band, telling them he’ll see them tomorrow. Taking my hand in his, he walks me to an elevator and we step inside, and he inserts a keycard for the penthouse.

Rolling my eyes, I say, “Living like a rockstar, I see?”

With a big childlike grin, he laughs. “Always, and now, so will you.”

The doors slide open, and he grabs a different keycard, as we approach what I’m assuming is the door to his lavish room. He opens the door and waves me in. “Ladies first.”

I walk into the massive room. Holy shit. I’ve never seen a room this big. There’s a large living room with two large white chairs, and matching ottomans in front of them, and a ‘L’ shaped sofa between them. To my immediate left is a large bar, with every alcohol they make. I glance to my right and see a long hallway with several rooms.

“The dining room is on the other side of the bar.”

I walk around and stop in my tracks. It’s a beautiful dining room, with a dark wood table for eight, and an expensive crystal chandelier above. There’s another bar in here, the wood matching the table, and a large window facing the mountains.

“Wow. Jagger, you’re really struggling financially, aren’t you?”

Smacking my ass, he says, “Sarcasm is sexy on you.”

I laugh, but instantly stop when I see the food on the table.

Steak, potatoes, and peas. I can’t eat any of those.

“Would you mind if I ordered chicken from room service?”

“You don’t like red meat? Shit, I should’ve asked.”

I shake my head. “I’m on a special diet, and I don’t eat any of these things.”

“Why?”

I turn away from him. “To lose weight. You know this already, Jagger.”

He grabs my shoulders and turns me back to him. “Make me understand. I thought when your relationship ended, this would too.”

I stare at him silently because this is a difficult thing to discuss with him. He knows bits and pieces, but I don’t think he understands how fucked up I am.

“Tell me.”

I take a deep breath. “As you know, he put me on a diet. I’m not allowed to have any protein other than chicken. He might be out of my life, Jagger, but I’m still fat.”

“And if you didn’t lose weight, what happened, McKinley?”

I swallow hard. “Mondays were weigh-ins. If I didn’t lose anything or gained weight, he got angry.”

His expression registers disgust. “Weigh-ins?”

“Yes.”

Jagger closes his eyes tight. “I want to fucking kill him.”

He opens them and shakes his head. “Baby, you are perfect the way you are. Sit and eat with me, but I will order you chicken, even though I would like you to eat some of this as well. If you haven’t eaten red meat for a long time, it can make you sick to eat too much at once.”

“It’s been two and a half years.”

He takes my hand in his and pulls me to the table. “Let’s enjoy each other and try to forget about that asshole.”

As he pulls my chair out for me, I say a quiet, “Thank you,” before sitting down, and he moves to the other side and sits across from me.

Taking his phone out of his pocket, he texts someone before setting it down with a forced smile. “Chicken ordered. We are in the penthouse, so it’ll be quick.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry I ruined tonight.”

He finishes cutting his steak and places his hand over mine, while he rubs his thumb over my knuckles.

“Baby, you didn’t ruin anything. It breaks my damn heart knowing he has done this to you. Please try a few bites of steak. By then, your chicken should be here.”

I nod as he removes his hand from mine, and I cut into the meat, feeling like I’m doing something wrong. The anxiety in my chest climbs, like I’m waiting for Erik to come in and find me being a ‘fat pig’. I take a bite while Jagger watches me closely. The flavor is unbelievable.

“This is really good, thank you,” I say after I swallow.

“I want to be perfectly clear about something, McKinley.”

Lifting my head, I meet his gaze and listen to his serious sounding tone.

“I don’t give a fuck what you weigh. For me, I’d prefer you don’t go and lose a bunch of weight, because I fucking love your body. Every part of it. If you want to lose weight for you, I’ll support you, but please don’t ever think it’s what I want, because I don’t. Gain twenty pounds, I don’t fucking care.”

I put another bite on my fork and try to change the subject, “What’s your favorite kind of music?”

He smiles as he finishes the food in his mouth, swallows, and says, “There’s few genres of music I don’t like at all. I grew up listening to eighties rock. My mom is a massive Def Leppard fan, they’re one of her favorite bands. That’s probably my favorite, because it always brings the memories of my mom singing in the kitchen.”

After I swallow my food, I ask, “Is she a singer?”

Jagger chuckles. “Definitely not. She can’t carry a tune to save her life, but when I was a kid she was always cleaning with loud music, and singing at the top of her lungs. When I was twelve, I told her she shouldn’t sing so loud since she was bad at it. She told me I was talking out my ass, because my head knows better.”

He laughs again as if he’s in the memory. “She always told me everything is better with music. And when I told her I wanted to front a band, she was supportive. My dad thought it was a waste, but my mom said music makes people feel. And if you can make one person feel something, or get through a difficult time, it’s a respectable profession.”

I smile at him. “She sounds wonderful, Jagger.”

He nods. “She is. Your turn, tell me about your family.”

A bell rings, causing me to jump, and he says, “I’ll be right back. That’s your chicken.”

I begin to panic when he comes back, terrified he’ll ask about my family again, which I don’t want to talk about. If he’s upset about everything with Erik, which he only knows half of, the topic of my family will probably have him ending things in a flash.

He comes back and places the chicken in front of me. “Chicken as requested.”

I take a bite of my chicken and he smirks. “Good girl.”

Jagger points to my wine. “Drink.”

Rolling my eyes at him, I pick it up and take a drink. Oh, it’s good. Fruity but not too sweet.

After we finish eating, he says, “The music choice tonight is yours. What’s your favorite band?”

I blush quickly. “The Dark Notes.”

He chuckles. “Okay, second favorite band. And I swear to God if you say The Glass Monkeys I’m not going to be happy.”

I snort laugh, because I’m totally lady-like.

“Well, I like eighties rock, too. And the nineties. There isn’t much I don’t like if it’s rock.”

He pulls out his phone again. “How about a mix then?”

The music filters overhead after he presses a button. The first song that plays is some rock version of Wicked Game by Chris Isaak .

He gets up and holds his hand out. “Dance with me, McKinley.”

I rise from my chair, and he takes my hand and walks me out to the large living room, before pulling me into his arms. We sway to the music, until he stops and kisses me, while grabbing my ass.

“I want you.”

“Just let me take a shower. I didn’t know we’d-”

I’m freaking out, and I hope he doesn’t notice. God damn it, McKinley. This guy is decent, and if he finds out about your little meltdown in the bathroom earlier, he’s gone. And who could blame him?

He smiles at me. “Go take a shower, baby. I can wait another ten minutes. Follow me.”

We walk down the hallway to his massive bedroom. It’s all dark furniture. A king sized bed and an armoire, a few dressers, and lilac colored walls. The room is complete with a vase of light purple flowers that match the paint. He points to the bathroom. “Help yourself to anything.”

I go into the bathroom and close the door behind me. Turning the shower on, I give it a minute to heat up while I get undressed. I’m standing in my bra and panties when the door opens. “I have an extra tooth-”

Jagger stands staring at my body, with a pained expression I won’t soon forget. I try to cover myself, but it’s too late. He knows.

I grab my clothes from the floor. “I’ll go.”