Page 82 of Pick Six

“I’m not in any fucking hurry.” Tobias levels me with a look.

“I wasn’t either.”

“How’s your agent dealing with the news?” Colt asks.

“Haven’t told him.”

“He doesn’t know you’re a real thing?” Ben looks at me with concern.

“He was in on the whole thing from the start, and I warned him I was going to pursue her. I just haven’t told him specifics. But he walked in right after, the other day. He saw her looking well fucked and happier than she’s been in a long time. I’m fairly certain from his attitude he put two and two together.”

“But you haven’t told him?” Colt raises a brow.

“No I haven’t discussed it in detail. How the fuck am I supposed to do that? Oh hey, thanks for the work you’ve been doing on that contract for me. By the way, turns out your ex-wife loves my cock. She’s not sure about the whole relationship thing yet, I’m working on that, but she’s all in on the benefits.”

“I’ve mentioned that I’m keeping any woman I have any interest in far away from you, right?” Tobias smirks.

“I saw her fucking first. I kissed her first. She wanted me. Don’t act like I’m being a dick here.”

“Fair, and he cheated on her, repeatedly,” Ben adds helpfully.

“It’s fucked.” I shake my head. Every time I think about him treating her that way pissing me off again.

“I’d still figure out a way to talk to him,” Colt warns. “Before it blows up in your face—and it will. I don’t know him well, but enough to know he has his own ego issues. You want to get ahead of that.”

“I’ll work on it when I get back,” I relent.

“Good. The last thing you need is more off-field drama.” Colt eyes me closely, ever the would-be father figure despite the fact he’s several years younger than me.

“Sure thing, Priest. The first thing you need is more off-field pussy so you’re less worried about the rest of us. You gonna work on that?”

“When I get back,” he mutters.

“Good,” I respond, a few of the guys snickering before his eyes fall on them and they pretend like they were just eating their fries the whole time.

FORTY-THREE

Harper

I’m sittingon the couch watching Alex play when I hear the door unlock. It scares the hell out of me, not just because it can’t possibly be Alex but because I can’t imagine anyone else he knows who has a key that would be stopping by while he’s playing. They’d all be as glued to the game as I am. I tense, wondering where a weapon I can use is and start thinking about making a dash for the kitchen for a knife. So when it’s Drew’s face that comes around the corner, I stare at him blankly. The shock is returned because he apparently doesn’t expect anyone—least of all me—to be there.

“Harp? What are you doing here?”

“I’m staying here. What are you doing here? And don’t you knock?”

“I didn’t knock because he’s obviously not home.” He points to the TV.

“Doesn’t mean the place is empty.”

“His cleaner and his trainer aren’t here on Sundays either.”

“So why are you?” I raise a brow at him.

“I was dropping off some paperwork he needs for this week.” He holds up a large manila envelope and sets it on the counter. I want to believe that’s what he’s doing, but the guilty defensive tone he has makes me feel like there’s more to it.

“Not snooping around while he’s not home?”

“What would I snoop around about? I’m his agent. I know all his dirty fucking secrets.” Drew’s eyes flit over me, and I see on his face the moment he realizes I’m wearing one of Alex’s shirts. “Or at least I fucking thought I did.”