Page 16 of Off-Limits Mate

“At the job. I haven’t had a band for a while. But the record label we signed with wanted me to be a manager. Managed a band for a while. Coyote shifters, sang alternative country.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Sad cowboy music, or party and patriotism music?”

“Sad cowboy, with a hint of Johnny Cash. They were notorious for tearing up the town when they toured. I was supposed to watch them.”

The bitterness in his voice makes my chest squeeze. “What happened?”

He shrugs again. “They went out. I didn’t. The party landed them right in jail, and one of them had to be hospitalized.”

“For…” I think I can probably guess, but I don’t want to assume.

“Drugs.”

“Oh, Jasper,” I murmur.

He looks away quickly. “I was supposed to watch them. But I was so fucking annoyed with them not listening to me and acting like shitheads that I just… let them do whatever. And then one of them was hospitalized.”

“Jasper, that’s hardly fair. You’re not their mom.”

“The industry hires managers for lots of reasons. One of them is to make sure that the talent, the people that are everyone’s paychecks, don’t get fucking strung out and end up in the hospital.”

“Still.” I lean forward, looking into his eyes. “They’re grown adults. The decision to do whatever they’re doing is all on them. Not on you. What were you supposed to do? Send them home for the night and make them wait in their rooms?”

“Basically,” he mutters. But some of the tension is gone from his jaw.

I lean back. “I’d hardly call that a fuckup.”

“I quit my job.”

My head snaps to his. “What?”

“Because of it. Got chewed out. Was told that I needed to quit, or I’d be fired.”

“That’s seriously stupid. Has it occurred to you that your boss and management team were just… bad?”

He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not going back, and that stuff is over for me.”

Sighing, I pick up my sandwich. “Well, I guess that explains why you had time to rebuild my house instead.”

“I would have done that, even if I was just visiting,” he says quickly.

“Maybe,” I murmur. “But you wouldn’t have come back unless your job was bad, right?”

Jasper looks away.

I huff. “Look, it’s not a big deal. You’re your own person, and you always told Nolan that normal people stuff wasn’t for you.”

“Normal people stuff?”

I wave my hand. “Houses. Jobs that don’t involve rockstars and partying. Normal people stuff.”

“I thought…”

“What?” I ask, genuinely curious.

Jasper is silent for a minute longer before responding. “Never thought I’d be good at it. But I’m not good at the partying shit, either, so… guess I’m good at nothing.”

“What a load of horseshit,” I announce. “That tile looks fantastic. You repaired every single one of my walls with basically no issue, and you just… watched a video about how to do it. That’s pretty talented, Jasper.”

---