Hooked Read Online Free PDF

free hand on the side of his face. He turns his face in and kisses my palm. “I knew you wouldn’t be at the house with me twenty-four, seven. I never expected that. Sure, I miss Ashley and my other friends, and God help me, sometimes I even miss my family. But I don’t want you to think that I wish I hadn’t come.”
    “Are you sure?” His eyes are focused, as if trying to read my mind.
    “Yes, I’m sure. I’m happy here…with you.”
    Brandon looks visibly relieved, like he’s been carrying a burden that just got lifted from his shoulders. He leans close and wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. I lay my head against him and close my eyes, breathing him in. The small moments like this are what make this whole transition worth it, moments where it is just the two of us soaking it all in together.
    The moment passes all too quickly when we arrive in front of the restaurant. Keith pulls up right out front, and there are small clusters of people scattered all over the place. Some appear to be waiting for reservations, and others look like they are saying good-bye, their meal already over.
    Then in a flash, the energy shifts and it feels like a wave of complete chaos. There are cameras going off from every angle, and it almost seems light outside with the constant flashing.
    Brandon swears under his breath. I glance at his face and see the frustration furrowed between his brows.
    “What’s happening?” I question, my eyes shifting between the scene unfolding outside and the growing concern on Brandon’s face.
    “Vultures,” he says.
    A moment later there is a couple leaving the restaurant and the people with cameras start chasing after them. I don’t recognize them, but I haven’t really been checked into the whole Hollywood thing the past few years, because I was terrified of opening a tabloid and seeing Brandon’s face on the inside.
    “Sir?” Keith says, turning in his seat to face us. “Do you want to leave?”
    Brandon shakes his head. “No. I’m not going to let them ruin our night.” He pops open the door and reaches for my hand once he exits. “Come on, Cherry. Let’s go in now, while they’re distracted.”
    I nod, feeling completely out of my element. I grab his hand and let him help me from the car. Brandon escorts me in front of him, resting one hand on the small of my back as he starts to guide me towards the front doors.
    We weave through the crowd and almost reach the front walkway when someone spots Brandon and the wave comes back in our direction.
    “It’s Brandon Hart!” someone in the crowd yells.
    There are cameras flashing and people are pushing closer. It’s hard to see but it seems that some people are just fans with camera phones, while other people, the vultures, as Brandon calls them, have photography equipment and appear to be bona fide paparazzi.
    The crowd presses in, and I can’t see because of all the flashes from the cameras. There is yelling and screaming. Someone makes a rude comment about Brandon’s movie.
    My heart is racing, and I feel sweaty and panicked. My instincts are telling me to turn and bolt back to the car, but I feel Brandon’s arm wrap tightly around my waist. He pushes us forward, seeming to ignore the mob swirling around us. I keep my head down, letting my hair fall in front of my face to shield myself from the cameras and people.
    It feels like slow motion, yet somehow, we finally reach the front doors of the restaurant and are greeted by a hostess who holds the doors open for us and ushers us inside. She shoots a scowl at the paparazzi before turning away and letting the door swing shut again.
    “Are you okay?” Brandon whispers into my ear.
    I nod, blinking rapidly to try and clear the little speckles and spots floating in my vision from the camera flashes. When I can see clearly, I look around the foyer of the restaurant. It is dimly lit and very quiet, compared to the madness that lies just outside the front