Page 41 of Home Coming

“Thank you.”

“You can thank me by not letting that get to you.” He tipped his chin toward the cell she’d laid right next to her on the sofa, as if she couldn’t stand the thought of it being as far away from her as the coffee table.

Collapsing back into the nearby chair, he shoveled the first scoop of eggs into his mouth as she asked, “Not letwhatget to me?”

Her innocent act didn’t work on him. He’d watched both Bailey—when she’d been called Jane—and Josie attempt to lie back in the day. Neither girl was good at it.

“Axel’s song. I’m guessing you’re listening to it and I get it. I’d listen too.Once.But it sounds like you’ve got it playing on repeat.”

“TikTok automatically repeats,” she defended, the reprimand throwing her into shy mode as she had trouble maintaining eye contact.

“Then close the app,” he suggested. “Hell, delete it.”

She looked as horrified as if he’d suggested she cut off her right arm. “I can’t. That’s how I earn a living.”

He cocked up a brow. “I’m sure you can manage to do your job without obsessively listening to his song.”

She shook her head. “It’s become a trending sound. It’severywhere.”

He didn’t TikTok and had no clue about trending sounds but he knew one universal solution that worked for all annoyances related to the necessary evil of modern technology.

“Then turn off the volume and mute the damn thing,” he said.

She pressed her lips together, out of arguments. Which would be good, if she didn’t look so bad—as in miserable. She looked adorable, her hair barely contained in a messy bun as she snuggled on the sofa. But he could see the unhappiness clearly shining through all of this morning’s forced smiles and cordiality.

Quinn swallowed his last forkful of eggs then leaned forward, setting the plate on the low table before leaning his forearms on his knees. “Bailey, he’s not worth your time. Besides, you’re a way better musician than he is. His song sucks compared to yours.”

The lyrics were full of obscenities. The chords simplistic. The melody almost non-existent. What it did have was lots of loud drums and shouting into the microphone which he couldn’t bring himself to classify assinging.

Axel’s song wasn’t getting nearly as many likes or listens or whatever as her song on the site he’d checked. That made Quinn extremely happy but probably was driving Bailey’s narcissist ex-boyfriend nuts.

“You heard his song?” she asked, looking surprised.

After Xander’s call, he’d googled while she’d been in the shower, just to see what bullshit lies Bailey’s asshole ex was spreading about her.

And he might have also been on his cell searching for any leaked nudes of Bailey. Strictly so Xander would be able to demand the picture—or pictures, plural, he didn’t know how many—be taken down. Of course.

In his search he’d found Axel was getting very nasty on social media and in his comments to the press.

It all made Quinn’s protective side kick in hard.

He could keep his cool fine on a mission, even when faced with some of the worst of the world’s bad guys, but this was personal. This was Bailey. If he ever ended up face-to-face with Axel, Quinn couldn’t guarantee they’d both walk away from it.

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

Bailey felt sick to her stomach. It seemed every new comment was worse than the last. She’d been called every name in the book by Axel’s fans. Horrible hateful things—

“Stop.” Quinn snatched the cell out of her hand.

She glanced up. “I need my phone.”

“If and when you need it, I’ll give it back to you.”

“You’re a bully.”

“And you’re a glutton for punishment. So which one of us is worse?”

“Fine.” She pouted just as her cell vibrated in Quinn’s hand. “Did you switch it to vibrate? I always leave the ringer on.”

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