*_NAMELESS_*
CHAPTER 24
Ava and Brett lay intertwined in the bed, their bodies tangled in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Ava's head rested on Brett's chest, her fingers gently tracing circles on his skin. Brett's arms held her tightly, his hands cradling her as if she were delicate porcelain.
They basked in the intimate silence, their bodies still connected, their hearts still racing from the passion they had just shared. Ava couldn't help but feel a sense of completion as they lay together, their love evident in the way they held each other.
“So much for getting some rest” Brett said and let out a soft chuckle.
Ava raised her head and gave Brett a sleepy smile, his laughter infectious. "Rest is overrated," she murmured, her voice soft and content.
Brett pulled her closer, his hand gently stroking her back. "I'll settle for just holding you," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.
At that moment, both Ava and Brett knew that no words were necessary. They had found their peace in each other's embrace, their love an unbreakable bond that would carry them through whatever challenges lay ahead. As they drifted off to sleep, their hearts beat in perfect sync, forever intertwined.
****
Brett and Ava got to San Francisco the next day. Brett had been with Ava all day and barely left her side. They spoke a lot and had fun together. Ava called Paris and they caught up with each other on everything. The next day Brett left the house early, he had something important he needed to deal with.
****
Brett pulled up in front of his dad's house, a quaint bungalow nestled in a quiet suburban neighborhood. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was sure to be an uncomfortable conversation. As he made his way up the driveway.
As Brett stepped inside the house, he was greeted by a chorus of friendly hellos from his dad's staff members. He politely returned their greetings before asking, “Where's my father?” he asked one of the security men standing beside him.
“He's in his study Sir” the man responded.
Brett gave a nod then made his way through the hallway leading to his father's study.
As Brett walked into the study, he found his father standing by the fireplace, a glass of whisky in his hand.
“Brett, my boy, how are you?” his father asked with a big smile on his face.
Brett shrugged, his expression cool. “I'm fine,” he replied, his voice devoid of any real warmth or enthusiasm.
Sensing the coolness in Brett's response, his father gestured for the two bodyguards stationed inside the room to leave and give them some privacy.
His father gestured towards one of the plush chairs in front of the fireplace. "Have a seat, son."
Brett hesitated for a moment before taking a seat in the chair. His father took a seat opposite him, eyeing him carefully.
Instead of sitting comfortably, Brett awkwardly perched on the edge of the armchair, as if he was ready to jump up and leave at any moment. His body was tense and his hands gripped the armrests tightly, his fingers drumming impatiently against the fabric.
Brett took a deep breath before finally breaking the silence. "I need to talk to you, dad," he said, his tone serious.
His father's expression shifted slightly, his eyes narrowing as he stared down Brett then sighed. "Alright, what is it?"
“It was you wasn't it?”
There was a brief silence punctuated only by the sound of the fire crackling in the hearth before his father responded.
