Headlines (Prime Time #3) - Ella Frank Page 0,6

of the year, too, until Bailey had dragged me out of my funk, and that was the other reason I was here tonight. I owed Bailey. He really was the good one, and I would do everything I could to make this better.

After one final pep talk, I shoved open the car door and headed for the drive. As I passed by the garage, I noted one side was open and spotted both Bailey and Boudreaux’s vehicles—good, they were home. Then I reached the porch and went to knock.

A loud clap of thunder boomed throughout the sky, making me jump about ten feet, and when I finally managed to dislodge my heart from my throat, I banged on the front door. I waited on the porch still and silent, and the only sound I could hear was the thump, thump, thump of my heart.

When a couple minutes passed and no one answered, I raised my hand to knock again, and that was when the door was pulled open and filled by Boudreaux in his signature black jeans and tight black t-shirt. I had the fleeting thought to ask whether he owned clothes of any other color.

“Dick,” he said, crossing his muscled arms over his chest. “Nice shiner you got there. I see you’re making friends wherever you go.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s good to see you too.”

“Mhmm. I was wondering how long it would take before you decided to show up here in person.”

I searched his features for the smug eat shit expression I’d expected. But instead I found one full of…curiosity. I had no idea what or how much Bailey had told him, so I decided to dip my toe in to test the waters rather than throw myself in the deep end.

“Well, I need to talk to Bailey and can’t seem to get him on the phone, so I thought I’d swing by and see if he was home.”

Boudreaux narrowed his eyes. “Couldn’t get him on the phone?”

“Right, uh…” I slipped my hands into my pockets to keep myself from fidgeting. Fidgeting, for fuck’s sake. Like some kind of criminal. Shit, hadn’t these tables turned. “Look, is he home? Can I come inside?”

I went to move by him, but Boudreaux stepped out and pulled the door closed.

“You got a problem?” I said.

“No. But I think you do.”

I’d opened my mouth about to tell him to get the hell out of my way when another rumble of thunder vibrated throughout the sky.

“Look, the sky’s about to unleash holy hell. Can you just let me in?”

“Sorry, can’t do that.”

“You can’t do— What the hell does that mean?”

Boudreaux shrugged. “Exactly what I said.”

“You listen to me. I want to see Bailey.” I took a step forward, and when Boudreaux got in my way again, I told myself to stay calm. “Get out of my way, Boudreaux.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.”

I could feel my frustration beginning to rise as I stared at the stubborn wall of man in front of me. If Boudreaux wasn’t careful, I was going to give him a shiner to match my own. “And why not?”

“Bailey’s not home.”

The lie was blatant, and he knew it. “His car is in the garage.”

Boudreaux peered around my shoulder, and then looked back to me. “He took my car.”

“Are you kidding me with this shit? Your car is in there too. Just let me inside. I need to talk to him.”

“I agree. You do need to talk to him. The problem is, he doesn’t want to talk to you.” Boudreaux frowned. “I’m curious—were you two ever gonna tell him?”

It didn’t take a genius to work out the two he was talking about. But I was still trying to wrap my brain around Bailey sending out his muscleman to keep me from getting inside the damn house.

“You gotta admit, you hooking up with a guy is a mind fuck all on its own. But Xander?” Boudreaux let out a long whistle. “That was a disaster waiting to happen. I mean, I get it. He’s one fine piece of ass, but—”

“You shut your fucking mouth,” I growled, and Boudreaux’s lips curved into the smug smile I’d expected to see when I first arrived.

“Or what?”

“My fist will shut it for you.”

“Relax, Dick. I just wanted to make sure there were real feelings there with you and ENN’s most prized news anchor. You know, before you went down this road.”

My jaw twitched as I did my best to ground my molars to dust. “And what’s that supposed to

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