Headlines (Prime Time #3) - Ella Frank Page 0,25

this is going to work. Dig deep and see what it is that’s really bothering you, and maybe the next time you’re here, we can work on it together.”

I buttoned my jacket and gave a clipped nod, then headed out the door. As I climbed inside my car, I turned the AC on blast and sat there for a minute, letting her words replay in my head as my attention shifted to the children chasing each other around the yard.

I closed my eyes, leaned back in the seat, and thought about all of those summers spent growing up with Bailey. All of the memories I shared with him. There was a lifetime of them, and my heart ached at the thought that there would be no more.

No. It couldn’t end like this. We couldn’t end like this. We’d made a promise to one another that nothing would ever tear our friendship apart, and while I knew I’d done some major damage to it, I had to believe that in the end we could repair it…

OF ALL THE times I’d stood out here on the Baileys’ front porch, I could only ever remember being this nervous once before. That’d been the night I realized my feelings for the middle Bailey brother were a lot strong than friendship. It was ironic that tonight I was here to see if we could go back to that—our friendship.

I took in a deep breath and wiped my palms on my pants. God, I couldn’t tell if it was nerves or worry causing the knot in my gut. But either way, what I was about to do needed to be done. That was the only hope in salvaging the friendship we’d had long before we’d decided to take things to the next level and almost lose ourselves in the process.

I stared at the front door and was just about knock when it was pulled open by Mrs. B.

“Xander.” She chuckled and flashed a brilliant smile my way. “You scared me half to death.”

“Likewise, Mrs. B. You caught me right as I was going to knock.”

“Well, I was just heading out. Bailey’s inside, in the kitchen. Will I see you for dinner?”

“Uh…” Probably not after what I was here to say, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. “Probably not. I have to head into work.”

“Oh, that’s right, congratulations. Bailey told me all about the head field reporter job. That’s exciting.”

“It is. A little nerve-racking too, but it’s what I’ve been working for.”

Mrs. B reached out and squeezed my arm. “You’re going to do great and see so many things. Just be careful out there.”

“Well, it’s just local to start with.”

“Yes, but we all know you aren’t going to stop there. As long as I’ve known you, all you’ve ever wanted was to be a journalist.”

It really was. Bob Willis at ENN was my number one idol. My dream was to end up behind an anchor desk at a national level one day, but I knew I had to pay my dues first.

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

Mrs. B smiled and stepped around me. “Of course. I see big things in your future, mister.”

I chuckled and waved as she headed off down the drive to her car, and then made my way inside. This house was as familiar to me as my own, and when I stepped into the kitchen to see Bailey sitting at the breakfast nook reading over some papers, my gut did that thing where it twisted around on itself.

Bailey glanced up, and when he spotted me standing just inside the doorway, that warm smile brightened his features, and all I could think was: Please let us be okay after this.

“Hey there.” Bailey went to slide out of the bench seat, but I shook my head.

“No, don’t get up.” I crossed the tiled floor and leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. As I took the seat opposite him, I nodded to the papers. “What do you have there?”

“Um…” Bailey flipped them over, immediately piquing my curiosity. “Nothing.”

“Yes, that’s obvious by the way you’re hiding them.”

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Seriously, it’s nothing. Just something I’ve been thinking about lately.”

“Oh yeah? Care to elaborate?”

Bailey looked down at the papers and frowned. “I…I’m still thinking about it.” Then he returned his attention to me. “But I’ll tell you as soon as I know.”

I nodded and sat back in the seat, trying to work out how to start this conversation. When it became