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The headlines…aren’t great, but the comments are even worse.
@urfavenycbitchOMG I HATE HER! Reid is so fucking hotttttt she should be glad he chose her dusty ass anyway
@avawellsstan @urfavenycbitchWOW what happened to women supporting women?!?!? As long as dude is hot and rich he can stalk women and break into their apartments. F&#king a$$holes!!!
“You need to stop reading that,” Brandon says, wrapping his arms around me as I sit at the kitchen counter stool and peer over my shoulder. “Just take a break, Ava.”
He’s right. Of course, he’s right, but it’s hard. “I just wanted to know what people were saying now that news of Reid’s arrest has been made public. I’m sure his father’s publicist is planting most of these stories, saying I’m to blame for his erratic behavior.”
Brandon gently takes the phone out of my hand and puts it face down on the counter. “Ava, look at me.”
I lift my head up and gaze into Brandon’s dark brown orbs. Despite the hardened tough guy persona, his eyes have always been warm and kind.
“You don’t have to know everyone’s thoughts regarding all this with Reid.”
“Yes, I do,” I begin saying, picking at my chipping nail. “People are blaming me for his behavior. I’ve even lost followers over this.”
Brandon shakes his head. “Your generation is obsessed with followers and can’t spend a minute away from your phones.”
“My generation? Don’t make yourself sound even older than you are.”
Brandon fake winces. “You wound me, Ava.”
The first time in a while since I’ve had anything to smile about. The happy moment is fleeting when I see the sleeves of Brandon’s shirt rolled up to expose his muscular forearms. A bandage now covers the cut he sustained trying to hold Reid.
He leans forward so our foreheads are touching. “Now, I’m going to hang onto your phone for a bit. I don’t need you spiraling over some silly comments.”
“Fine,” I say, crossing my arms. “I’ll make us breakfast.”
Cooking usually helps whenever I feel anxious. Focusing on the ingredients and timing everything will take my mind off what everyone is saying about Reid.
“Sounds good,” Brandon replies, taking over my vacated spot and booting up his laptop. “Make sure there’s double helpings for Westin or else there won’t be any left for the two of us.”
Just as he says that, the sound of a drill comes from the bedroom. Westin arrived about an hour and a half after the police finished collecting some evidence. Westin showed up with a replacement window and tool bag.
While taking out the carton of eggs, I turn back to Brandon.
“Was Westin working in construction before joining TSS?” I ask.
Brandon furrows his brow at whatever he’s reading, too distracted, and doesn’t answer right away. “What? Uh, no. He didn’t. I have extensive background checks on all my agents.”
“Interesting,” I say, adding shredded white cheddar for the French omelette. “Seems like he knows what he’s doing. How many people know how to replace a window?”
Brandon gives me his full attention this time before answering. “Let’s just say my team is highly skilled in a number of trades if need arises. I’d tell you more, but honestly, the less you know the better.”
I smirk. “Or what? Then you’d have to kill me?”
Brandon laughs. “Something like that.”
Westin emerges moments later; the window is officially repaired. A weight is lifted off my shoulders. With everything pointing to Reid as the stalker, everything can go back to normal now.
Actually, better than normal.
Thanks to Reid’s craziness, it drove me into the arms of Brandon. Though I certainly regret threats made against my family and family home, at least it all ends with Brandon and I becoming… Well, I wasn’t sure yet.
For now, we were together.
After the guys finish breakfast, Westin faster than any person I’ve ever seen, Brandon goes to walk Westin out.
