Page 19 of Love on the Byline

Bran’s attempt to temper his grin was minimal. He knew he’dwon, the asshole. “Would never ask you to.”

Against every instinct, he felt himself nodding. This wasfine.

“Yes!”

Annnd, the volume of his excitement put Ollie right back onedge. “Bran.”

“Oh, stop looking at me like I have some nefarious plot upmy sleeve.” He walked towards the door, a suspicious bounce in his step.

Ollie’s second thoughts were having second thoughts, but theidea of spending time with Blake proved irresistible, even if there were amillion ways this could go wrong.

“Where are you going?” He got up to follow him down thehall.

“I need a swim,” Bran said over his shoulder. “And you needto draft my apology.”

“I really think you should do that yourself.”

He stopped and turned. “You really believe that?”

Okay, no. He didn’t, and it must have shown in his face.

“Thought not.”

“That’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.” Bran shook hishead. “I need another beer. You want one?”

“Yeah, sure.” Ollie needed liquid reinforcement to getthrough tonight. “And it’s not cheesy, it’s honest.” Or it would be if Branmeant any of it, of which Ollie wasn’t sure.

“Read it to me again.”

BRAN: Blake, it’s Brandon Cody. I want to apologize formy behavior. I haven’t been in the best frame of mind, and I projected some ofmy frustrations onto you. For that, I am sorry.

“That sounds hella formal,” Bran said. “And not like me atall.”

“Well, how would we make it sound more like you?”

“I dunno. Yo, sorry about being a dickhead. Hit me up ifyou want to hit the red carpet with me and get this exclusive. Girls loveto get dressed up and be photographed.”

Wow, this was not going to work. At all. “Hit meup? Really?”

Bran’s face split with a wide grin. “Yeah, okay. So maybeit’s good the text doesn’t sound like me, but I don’t think your way’s gonnawork either.”

“Only one way to find out.”

Bran chewed his bottom lip, took a swig from his beer, andnodded. “Fuck it. Hit send.”

“You sure?”

“No.” He laughed.

Ollie wasn’t sure either, but he sent the message. He putthe phone on the coffee table and drank a couple of swallows from his ownbottle while they both stared down at the device.

“She won’t answer.”

“Give her more than thirty seconds. Geez.”

Bran shook his head and sank back into the cushions. “She won’t.I’m telling you, she hates me.”

“She doesn’t even know you, not really.”