Chapter 16

Sixteen

Rowan

Tweetie, Henry, and I arrive at the hotel room our agent, Jagger Kale, booked for us. We're scheduled to have an interview with SportsNight to talk about the upcoming season.

Jagger opens the door of the suite dressed in a pair of slacks and a button-down shirt. "My trifecta." He walks toward us and places his hand out for us to shake.

"How's the family?" I ask.

"Good. I'll be back for your first game with my son."

"Does he play?" Tweetie takes no time before he's over at the snack table Jagger set up for us, grabbing a cookie.

"Nah, he's a gamer. But he loves to travel, so he agrees to go to a game, and I agree to go wherever he wants. It's bonding time. Hensley gets it."

"Magic will know what that's like soon enough," Tweetie laughs, snagging a small sandwich before he's even finished chewing his cookie.

"What are you talking about?" I sit on the couch, wanting to get this interview over with. I hate doing them. The only reason I'm a little more at ease today is because Tweetie and Henry are with me, and we all know Tweetie will take over.

"Your girl. She's at your place all the damn time."

"You have nothing better to do but spy on me?"

Tweetie clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. "That's how often she's there. Every time I leave my place, she's either coming or going."

He's not wrong. For the last three weeks, Leigh has been all I think about, all I want. We talk, and I've been getting to know her, but I haven't asked her a lot of personal questions. Twice now, I've found her at Peeper's Alley with swollen eyes as though she's been crying.

If I go there and ask why she's upset, it'll suggest that we're more than just a hookup to each other. And I sure as hell don't want her asking me about my personal demons. She must be finding some solace in Ruby, which is odd since that woman has never seemed like someone who wants people to cry on her shoulder.

"Bodhi likes her. The other day she stopped after she left your place and helped him chalk a sun on the stairs," Henry says.

My eyebrows raise. "Really?"

Henry nods, opening a sparkling water. "She seems nice. Good with kids. And I'm guessing she's good at other things since she's kept your interest for more than a week."

I lean back on the couch and rest my ankle on my knee. "Fuck off, I'm not like that. I think you're confusing me for Tweetie. And I'm not dating her. I'm just…"

"Fucking her?" Jagger asks, sitting in the chair next to me.

"Yeah… I mean…"

Jagger holds up his hand. "You don't have to answer to me. I had my fun, but don't be an idiot and pass up the woman for you like I did. Thankfully, I got a second chance, but not everyone does." He eyes Tweetie, who turns toward the snack table, giving us his back. I'm not sure what that's about.

Leigh is beautiful, funny, and I have this pull to her I've never felt with anyone else. I've never considered dating anyone since I got into the league. Seems like a waste to me because of how much I travel. Plus, I don't want to bring an innocent person in to bear the brunt of all the doubts in my head about what kind of a man I might be to a long-term partner. Leigh's too good for that, and she seems happy to keep our agreement the way it is, so why mess that up?

"Look at him thinking." Tweetie laughs, sitting in one of the chairs with a plate full of food.

"Give him a break," Henry says. "Our boy might be realizing he's falling."

I shrug. "She's a great fuck. That's it."

The words taste sour coming out of my mouth. She's more than that. And she will be more than that to someone else after she's done with me, which will probably be as soon as my season starts since I won't be available as much.

"Okay, the interview is going to start soon, so get all nice and cozy on the couch. Tweetie, put the fucking food down, and don't hog the spotlight," Jagger says.

"That's a hard ask," Tweetie says.

We all sit side by side on the couch with Tweetie in the middle. Jagger gives Tweetie his stern dad look, the only look I've seen from anyone that sobers Tweetie up.

The interview begins via a video call, and I get the first question.

"You're the man everyone is looking at to turn things around for the team this year. How does that pressure feel?"

I tap my ankle, a telltale sign that I'm nervous. "Of course there's pressure, but I'm confident I can contribute to the team, along with everyone else, and earn us a better result this year."

"Especially with the guys to your left. They're calling you the Trifecta."

I look at Jagger, who points at himself, obviously the one who coined the phrase.

"We're definitely a force to be reckoned with, but there are a lot of talented players in the league. At the end of last season, we jived on the ice, so we'll continue to build on that this season."

He directs a few questions to Henry and Tweetie, and they both give the regular PR-approved answers. It's all about fulfilling your role on the team. How there isn't any drama between teammates. How we're poised to do well this year.

"We heard that you all live in the same building," the interviewer says.

Henry chuckles. "Yeah. We do."

"And that your fans have coined it The Nest?"

Henry and I look at Tweetie, and he raises his hand. "I did. It was The Den back when the Grizzlie players lived there, so it's only fair we take it over."

Henry groans.

"Henry, you're a single dad, right?" he asks.

He nods. "I am."

"How's that work living with Mr. Heartbreaker?"

I roll my eyes, and Jagger points at me to cut it out. I fucking hate that nickname.

Henry laughs and glances at me. "He's not too much of a heartbreaker these days."

"Or ever," I grumble.

Jagger glares at me, but I'm not going to sit here and let them take shots at the kind of person I am.

"Yeah, he's got—" Tweetie starts in.

"How about we keep this to hockey?" I say.

The interviewer clears his throat and glances off screen. Fuck this entire thing. Why do they have to get involved in my personal life?

"Sorry, but we gotta ask the hard questions the fans want answers to. You understand, right, Rowan?"

I look at Jagger. If looks could kill, I wouldn't be alive to answer the guy. "Yeah, all good."

"Well, in other news, I assume you've heard the rumors?" the interviewer asks.

Jagger pulls out his phone and stares at it. He never has his phone out during our interviews. He's always there to keep us on task and make sure to shake his head if we veer in the wrong direction.

"What rumors?" Henry sighs because it's usually some shit we can't confirm.

"You've got a new goalie."

We all look at Jagger. He holds up his phone, smiling.

"It's been reported that Conor Nilsen has been traded to the Chicago Falcons, though we're waiting for confirmation on that," the interviewer says.

"Let's go!" Tweetie shouts, and Jagger motions for him to bring the volume down.

Probably because it will appear disrespectful to Erickson, our current goalie.

"You played with him in college, right, Rowan?" the interviewer asks.

"I did, and he'll be a great asset to the team, but at the same time, Erickson will be missed in the locker room. He's a great player and mentor to a lot of us."

Jagger smiles at my answer. It's almost too rehearsed. So much so I wonder if these interviewers understand they have no clue who I am underneath this persona.

"Well, I think I speak for all of us when I say we can't wait to see the four of you on the ice this season. Thanks for taking the time to chat today. Good luck this season."

We all say our goodbyes and thank them for having us.

Once the interview is over, Jagger turns all the equipment off and sits back down across from us. "Okay, you can all thank Daddy now."

"What are you talking about?" Henry asks.

"I convinced Conor to come home to Chicago. So when you win the Cup this year, you better be kissing my ass and offering me an extra five percent on all your contracts." Jagger goes over to the snack table and opens a soda.

"You'll be kissing ours from all the endorsements," Tweetie says, joining him.

"Pretty cool, you and Pinkie together again, huh?" Henry slides over on the couch, lifting his wrist to check the time. "I gotta get Bodhi. Want to come and get a reminder of why you need to be sure you're practicing safe sex?" He chuckles, standing and straightening his pants.

"Please, Bodhi is an endorsement to have children," I say.

He blows out a breath. "Not when he gets with his friends. Some of his friends would make you run to get a vasectomy."

He walks over to Jagger, shaking his hand and thanking him.

"Daddy duty, huh?" Jagger asks.

"Yeah."

Henry leaves, and my phone vibrates in my pocket. My pulse quickens, hoping like hell it's Leigh.

At Ruby's whenever you get home.

I'll be there in twenty.

I pocket my phone and go over to Jagger, thanking him.

"You're all leaving? I was going to treat you to lunch." He holds up his hands.

"Unless Leigh's pussy's on the menu, Magic isn't interested." Tweetie smiles wide.

I'd love to smack that smile off his face, but he's not wrong. That's about the only thing I'm hungry for.

"Go. I get it. If my wife was here, I wouldn't be hanging out with you dipshits."

I say goodbye and leave the plush hotel, grab a taxi, and book it to my condo, ignoring all the signs that Leigh is worming her way into my daily life.