Page 150 of Collide
And Broderick? Broderick still hasn’t looked away.
I take a slow breath. I told myself I was going to focus on Alex. I chose this. So I press closer to Alex, burying the discomfort, and pretend I haven’t seen the slight tick in Broderick’s jaw—the one that makes my insides knot.
There’s only so much I can take before going full feral on those perfectly toned, over-perfumed bitches. Their fawning has long since crossed into open flirting.
So I leave Alex with his fan club, flashing a tight smile that probably looks more like a snarl, and slip inside under the guise of checking on things.
Really, I just need air.
I move through the house on autopilot, heels clicking sharply against the marble, offering empty nods and polite smiles until I reach the front porch.
Finally, quiet.
The door clicks shut behind me. I press my palms to the railing, breathe. And then I feel him before I see him.
Broderick.
“Hey, co-host,” Broderick calls out, smooth and teasing. Full of humor.
No. I donotneed this.
I don’t even glance back. I just turn on my heel and storm down the stairs to the driveway, needing air, needing space, needing…not them.
The sun hits my skin. I inhale deep, trying to exhale the frustration boiling beneath my ribs.
But then I hear them.
Footsteps. Two sets.
I don’t have to turn to know.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“Elena,” Alex calls, his voice tight.
“Elena,” Broderick echoes, just as firm, just more concerned.
I spin, heat flooding my chest. “You havegotto be kidding me.”
They both freeze. Neither of them looks guilty.
That only pisses me off more.
“Seriously?” I snap. “What is this? Duel at dawn? Fight to the death? What’s next, a literal dick-measuring contest?”
Alex drags a hand through his hair, jaw flexing. “No one’s fighting, Elena.”
Broderick lets out a breath—sharp, skeptical.
“Oh, don’t do that,” I groan. “Don’t stand there like you’re both innocent. You were acting like goddamncavemen.”
I turn on Broderick first, fury rolling off me. “You don’t think I notice you glaring at me like you’ve got something to say but won’t?”
Then to Alex, venom rising in my throat. “Andyou—standing there while Avery practically dry-humps your arm, like she was two seconds away from dropping to her knees right there.”
Broderick’s eyes snap to mine. For a second, something raw cracks through—frustration, yes, but also something else. Something deeper. Something I don’t want to name.
Alex doesn’t move. Arms crossed. Lips pressed tight. Not backing down. “Elena, you don’t get it,” he says, his voice low. “This isn’t, she wasn’t?—”
