ᵗʰᶤʳᵗʸ ˢᶤˣ

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Holding hands is kinda a cliché in on date, where a couple walks around making passersby jealous and gag at the same time. A date is where two people would have lunch/dinner together while making ogling eyes at each other over their meals, ordering a dish of bolognese and anticipated a kiss over a stand of spaghetti.

But that wasn't the case when you're with Asher or Brooklyn. Because she went under the radar for so long, the moment a paparazzi caught a whiff of her whereabouts, they were swarming her like bees to honey, tracking her down to the location and throwing questions all at once.

"What is your relationship with Asher."

"How did you two meet."

"What have you been up to this past few weeks."

"What's your background."

"Are you pregnant?"

She didn't know how to react to the last one when it was obviously directed at her. Was she pregnant? She sure as hell hoped not, but with the amount of times they have been careless and missed out the protection part of intercourse, she wasn't so sure. Although she had started taken pills after their sexcapade started just for extra prevention, but only mother nature could tell.

Another subject that she caught on was how did they meet. Being held in a local police station all night long, she was under the impression that they all knew how their first meeting went down, given how certain she was that the police wouldn't withhold such news from the press. But now that she thought about it, there weren't any reporters outside the building when she left.

Someone suppressed the news.

Asher.

He didn't want a shitstorm of news revolving him surrounding him, so he paid the officers for their silence and surprisingly they cooperated. Until now, he managed to keep the press in the dark regarding the topic of their meeting. No wonder no newsletters or blogs have ever mentioned her in the negative light, they didn't know.

It clicked in her brain that Asher was protecting her as well in terms of protecting himself, but that doesn't matter to her. Whatever it was, he had single handedly taken down whatever stood in his way and that was an admirable trait in itself.

She looked at him, his hand on her lower back as he pushed her forward to the entrance, and his security team on scene pushing away anyone that got too close, clearing a path for them.

Noticing that he didn't really like the attention, she clasp her hand over his and gave it a firm squeeze, and he slightly relaxed. The door was opened for then and they entered, requesting a booth the furthest from the window so that they couldn't interrupt their meal.

The bodyguards stood by the door, shades on with arms behind them and a ramrod straight back, staring off into space like there wasn't a bunch of hungry monkeys seeing a bundle of bananas for the first time.

Brooklyn was looking at them unknowingly. She watched as they push aside those of who try to cross them, and she was mesmerized by how they worked. Now she understood what Asher meant when he said she would need a bodyguard to help her fend off the onslaught, today she witnessed it for the first time, officially.

Snapping out of it finally when the commotion toned down, she turned to Asher and saw that he was looking at her already with an amused smile. He knew what she was thinking just plainly by the look she had on her face. She was overwhelmed as well as underprepared for a situation like this. He probably has to talk to Tristan and tell him to run through the protocol with her.

Giving her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, he picked up the menu that was laid in front of him and asked her over it, "what do you want to eat, Brooklyn."

Brooklyn's Break In #1 | ✔Where stories live. Discover now