Untamed

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I looked past Gibson to A

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I started laughing. “That…would be so awesome.”

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Looking back at Gibson, I frowned. “I suppose I could try.” Even though I was sure she didn’t have a clue what we were talking about, Gibson laid her head on my shoulder, wrapped her arms around my neck, and patted my back like she was encouraging me. Yeah, if it would help Gibson, I would try to control my mouth. There wasn’t much I wouldn’t do for that little girl.

The three of us started heading toward the bedroom. A

As A

“Before I forget, your dad called.” She frowned after she said it, and I wondered if Pops had done or said something to piss her off. It wouldn’t surprise me. Dad had no filter. Mom said it ran in the family. Whatever.

“Yeah? And what did that fucker want?”

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Well of course they did. My place was fucking fantastic, much nicer than the shitholes my family called home. Once the money from our second album had started pouring in, I’d done what anybody in my position would have done. I’d contacted a real estate agent and told her to find me the most expensive house in Seattle. Sadly, we hadn’t ended up buying that one, but the one A

I wasn’t the only D-Bag who had invested in real estate. Kellan and Kiera had a huge secluded place north of Seattle, in the middle of BFE, and Matt and Rachel had a swanky condo downtown, with an amazing view of the pier and the Ferris wheel. Both of those spreads had required a ton of dough, although neither was as pricey as my place. Evan was the only one who’d bought a modest home. He’d actually purchased his old loft. Well, his loft and the auto body shop beneath it. He’d converted the business into extra living space and an art studio for Je

“Griffin…? Did you hear what I said?”

Shaking my head, I snapped out of my dirty-girl fantasy. “Uh, yeah, Mom and Pops are coming for a visit. Sounds cool.”

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I gave her a sympathetic smile, even though it didn’t sound like a big deal to me. “It will be fine. This place is huge; you’ll barely see them. They’ll probably spend most of the time at the pool anyway.” The house had an indoor Olympic-sized pool with a ten-person hot tub right next to it. A selling point for me.

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“I’m not leaving my newborn infant with your family. Not even for a month in Cabo.” Her expression told me that she really meant it. So did her next words. “You need to call him back and tell him they can visit for a weekend, but that’s it.”

“A weekend? Babe, they’d barely get to see the newest Hancock. How about a month?”

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I thought for a second. “Twenty days.” A

“Okay,” she muttered. “Game room.”

Spi

We walked down a hallway filled with gaudy works of art. The more ridiculous something was, the more I liked it. There were statues of pissing kids, dog-faced fish, and flying monkeys. My home was filled with portraits of gigantic asses, which A

The “game room” was on the other end of the house, and it took a few minutes to get there. I almost reminded A

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When I headed to the “negotiation” table, A