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“Did you trick me into signing a contract to do a fucking music video?” I glared from one parent to the other, not liking the sly looks in their eyes as they smiled fondly at me.

“Would we do a thing like that?” Dad dropped an arm around my shoulders, steering me toward the bank of elevators. “Come on. We have the two penthouses and there are plenty of extra rooms, so you don’t have to check in.”

As we stepped onto the elevator, Jagger joined us, rolling my carry-on beside him. At least six other people were riding with us, so I couldn’t yell at any of them. Each person was on a different floor, so it took forever to get to the penthouses.

“Isn’t there a separate elevator for the penthouse floor?” I grumbled when we stopped for the fourth time.

“It’s under maintenance,” Mom told me.

“Sure it is,” I muttered.

“No, it really is,” Dad assured me. “They’re doing a few renovations at the moment. There are a few floors that aren’t even accessible right now.”

“Last week, we were at one hotel where they were doing renovations, and the only elevator was the service elevator.” Mom grimaced. “We were on the seventh floor but ended up taking the stairs more often than not.”

“That must have sucked.”

“I felt more sorry for Liam than anything,” Dad said with a twist of his lips. “His leg was killing him by the end of the second day. Gabriella told him not to use the stairs, but he got fed up with the wait. Every elevator was over capacity each time he tried to use it, and we had places to be.”

“Poor Uncle Li.” Piper’s dad had been in a really bad car accident before he’d married her mom. He’d nearly died and still walked with a limp because of the rods in his leg. The guy stayed fit as hell, but I could imagine going up and down all those flights of stairs repeatedly could cause him some serious pain.

Finally, we made it to the top floor where both penthouses were. Each took up one side of the hotel, but when I went to follow my parents to the left, Jagger stopped me. “We’re this way, Dimples.”

“I don’t think so,” I gritted out between clenched teeth.

“Jags is right,” Mom interrupted. “There are only three bedrooms in each penthouse. Gabriella and Liam are in one room, and Piper has the other in ours. You are with Jagger and Cannon in that one.”

Outwardly, I only rolled my eyes at all three of them, while internally, I was screaming at the top of my lungs. They were all working against me, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

“Freshen up and take a nap,” Dad suggested. “You have a busy day tomorrow. Filming starts at six sharp. You’ll want to look rested.”

“But I’m hungry,” I complained.

“I’ll order room service,” Jagger said, pulling me toward the door he’d just opened. “Good night, everyone.”

I caught him winking at my parents, and I stomped on his foot. But he was wearing steel-toe biker boots, and I only ended up hurting my foot. “Asshole,” I seethed as I limped into the penthouse.

“Are you okay?” Jagger set my case by the door then scooped me up into his arms. “Baby, did you hurt yourself?”

“I’m fine. Put me down. I can walk.” I wiggled in his arms, but he only tightened his hold as he walked through the open floor plan of the luxurious suite and nudged open a door with his foot. Using his elbow to flip on the lights, he carried me across the room to the bed and carefully placed me on the end before crouching down.

Taking off my shoe, he examined my foot before declaring it was just a bruise.

“Gee, thanks, Doctor. Whatever would I do without your expertise?” Rolling my eyes, I scooted back on the mattress. “You can go now.”

“This is our room.” He nodded toward where his case was already open on the floor near the window.

“No fucking way!” I jumped up, but he only pushed me back down with a firm hand on my shoulder. “There’s an extra bedroom. I’m not sharing a bed with you.”

Ignoring me, he picked up the room service menu and offered it to me. “What would you like to eat? The chicken quesadilla is really good. Cannon and I both had like six of them yesterday.”

“You and my brother are cool now?” I asked with lifted brows.

His face hardened and he shrugged. “We’re working on it. But don’t fucking think I’m picking him over you, Dimples. He knows you’re my first priority, and he accepts that.”

I was tired after the long flight from London, and I didn’t want to argue with him. It was a dead subject as far as I was concerned. Anything concerning us was. I’d moved on, gotten over him, and…

I was a liar.

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