Page 173 of Collide
Sienna leans in, eyes alight with curiosity. “But what’s he like? Off-camera, I mean.”
I hesitate, feeling a flicker of warmth at the thought of him. “I don’t kiss and tell.” I wink at Riley, keeper of all my secrets. She laughs under her breath, chest puffed out and proud.
There’s a round of giggles and cackles. Protests over me holding out on juicy details. Another jab about me being a tease—and fuck, do I know it.
I smile but say nothing, my thoughts momentarily drifting to Broderick last night. The contrast between them is undeniable. If Alex is a wildfire, Broderick is the heat that lingers on my skin long after. And yet, here I am, caught between being with Alex and the idea of Broderick.
Riley, sensing my shift in mood, nudges me with her shoulder. “Alright, enough of the love-life grilling,” she announces, lifting her glass. “To Philippa, and her last few weeks as a free woman!”
The table erupts in cheers, the weight of the moment dissolving into laughter.
Riley and I excuse ourselves to the ladies’ room, giggling about something stupid she said moments before. The champagne has me feeling a little lightheaded, my skin warm from the sun and the lingering high of conversation. But as we head back to the table, the air shifts.
That prickling sensation—the one you get when you’re being watched. And then, there she is.
I recognize her immediately from the panel at Geek-Fest.
Walking toward me, every inch the blonde bombshell I’ve seen in magazines, isMadison Walsh.
She’s devastatingly beautiful—the kind of woman who doesn’t just turn heads, sheownsthe attention in the room. Her long, sun-kissed hair cascades in billowing waves. Her bronzed skin glows in the afternoon light. She’s taller than me, taller than Riley, dressed in a crisp white dress that hugs every inch of hermodel-length frame, her legs on full display. She looks like she was born for this world.
And she’s not alone.
Flanked by two equally stunning women—one a statuesque brunette with box braids, the other a dirty blonde—it’s like a Hamptons fashion editorial walked off the page and straight into my reality.
I freeze. My heart lurches.
Madison smiles, slow and practiced, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Hi,” she says softly. Friendly. Controlled. Calculated.
I open my mouth. Nothing comes out.
I’ve imagined this moment before—what it would be like to meet her. But none of those scenarios included me standing here, completely frozen, purse clenched in white-knuckled fingers.
“Um…hi.” It comes out weak. Pathetic.
Madison tilts her head, studying me like I’m something under glass. “You’re Alex’s friend, right?” she asks, putting an extra beat of emphasis onfriend.
Her friends snicker.
We haven’t defined our relationship yet. Definitely friends. Kind of lovers. Notnothing.
I nod, scrambling to collect myself. “Uh, yeah.” My voice is steadier this time, but my pulse is not.
Her smile widens, like she’s been saving the final blow—she lands it.
“I’m Madison,” she says, voice sticky-sweet.
“Alex’s girlfriend,” her friend with the braids cuts in, sharp as glass.
The words slice through the air.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Madison adds, smile gleaming like she hasn’t driven a stake into my chest.
For a second, all I can hear is blood rushing in my ears.
Girlfriend? Alex’sgirlfriend?
There’s no time to process it. Not before Riley scoffs—loudly—beside me.
