Page 162 of Collide
Broderick laughs—low, real, unguarded—his head tipping back just enough to make my chest tighten.
“Let loose, dance with me,” I yell, gripping his arms and shaking them harder. “Woooooo!”
His smile deepens. Dimples cut through. Eyes catch the neon and glitter, bright and open—sohim, it hurts.
Then Riley stiffens beside me.
I barely register it before a cool hand wraps around my arm and tugs.
I turn and let go. Dropping Broderick’s arms.
Alex.
Fuck, I totally forgot all about him. I’m such an asshole.
He doesn’t say a word, just steps in, palms my face, and kisses me.
He’s sending Broderick and me a clear message. His lips press like he’s stamping his name into mine. I lose myself in him—for a breath, for a heartbeat—before pulling back and spinning around, grinding into him. His hands find my hips, firm, pulling me into the rhythm as he moves to the beat of the song.
Beside us, I catch it.
Broderick taps Andrew’s shoulder. They exchange a few words, then Philippa slips her hand into Andrew’s, and the three of them disappear off the dance floor.
Gone.
A tall stranger slides up beside Riley, and just like that, she’s in motion again—arms around his neck, laughing, hair whipping in time to the beat.
“He wants you,” Alex whispers, voice dark and smug against my ear as he nips the tip with his teeth, it sends a jolt right between my thighs.
“Who?” I ask, not bothering to turn.
“The best man,” he chuckles, smug and close.
“Does he now?”
I know that.
Broderick told me himself. That almost kiss. The pause between us, heavy with things unsaid, the question ofwhat ifsstill clinging to my skin like sweat.
I turn, facing Alex fully, my arms sliding around his neck, my body flush against his.
“And what are you going to do about it?” I challenge.
He smiles, slow and sure, fingers tightening on my hips. “I don’t even have to try.” His lips brush my jaw, his voice oozing confidence. “And Elena…I don’t share.”
Everything in me stills.
It wasn’t my intention to make Alex jealous, and to be truthful, I hadn’t expected it, but something about the way he says it strokes something inside me. The need to be wanted, to be chosen. To beenough.
He’s making it so clear. He wants me.
This sexy, magnetic man—watched, chased, desired by so many—wants me.
Doesn’t he deserve to be chosen, too?
Chapter 22
Dangerous Woman
