Page 120 of Collide
I laugh. “I have Rio to thank for that,” I say, twirling for her. “Sorry work was shit. You look hot, though,” I add.
“Bosses. But God bless Rio, that stylish, sassy gay man doing the Lord’s work.” Riley gives me a once-over before linking her arm through mine. “Now, let’s get you a drink before you have to flash that perfect little rich-girl smile at all these people.”
Before we can move toward the bar, a voice—low, smooth, unmistakable—interrupts.
“Elena.”
My breath hitches slightly before I turn, already knowing who I’ll find.
Broderick.
He is striking in a tailored black tuxedo, the crisp lines emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders, the way it fits like a second skin. His eyes lock onto mine with an intensity that sends heat curling through me.
For a moment, we stand there, caught in something unspoken.
Our conversation on the phone softened something in me. Sure, he’s a rich douche, but he was kind enough to make me smile when I needed it.
Riley’s eyes widen as she takes him in for the first time. She’s stunned into silence—no flirty remark, no smug little smirk. Even his looks have her thrown.
“Do I know you?” I joke, my lips curving into a smile, trying to downplay the way my pulse kicks up a notch.
“Oh, my bad.” Mischief flickers in his gaze. “Here I thought you were Phil’s maid of dishonor—I mean, honor.”
I roll my eyes but can’t suppress the laugh that slips out.
“You clean up well.” The words slip out before I can stop them. Understatement of the century. The man is beyond gorgeous. I feel guilty even noticing, but I’m a woman with eyes—and he’s definitely easy on them.
I feel Riley’s eyes boring into us, glancing back and forth like it’s a verbal tennis match.
Broderick smirks, slow and deliberate. “I could say the same about you, but that would be downplaying it.”
His eyes drag down the length of me, raking over the gown clinging to my curves, the bare skin at my shoulders, the dip at my back. The way he’s looking at me sends heat rushing to my cheeks.
I feel exposed.
Too exposed.
Riley nudges me, snapping me out of it. I catch her knowing smirk.
Before I can respond, Philippa and Andrew appear, breaking the tension like a splash of cold water.
Andrew and Broderick pat each other’s backs before he gives Philippa a friendly hug.
“There’s my stunning little sister,” Philippa coos, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “You’re going to steal the show tonight.”
She’s dressed in a glittering champagne-colored gown, elegant as always. Andrew greets me with a warm smile, but Philippa’s sharp gaze flicks between me and Broderick, catching everything.
“Elena, that drink?” Riley asks, her voice deceptively casual, but I know better.
“I can grab you ladies something,” Broderick offers, flashing that damn megawatt smile—the kind that makes my stomach flutter in a way I refuse to acknowledge.
“We’ll be right, mate,” Riley cuts in smoothly before I can answer.
Philippa’s lips quirk slightly at the exchange, her eyes narrowing as she looks at me. “I could also use a drink,” she says, her smile slow and calculating.
Shit.
As the three of us walk toward the bar, Riley yanks me into a quiet corner, Philippa hot on our heels.
