Page 70 of Collide
“Yeah, he’ll be at Geek-Fest. Mark got me tickets.”
“GEEK-FEST! I’m coming!” she screams.
“Don’t you have work?”
“I’ll say I’m scoping out an artist, visiting galleries. Or I’ll quit and come anyway,” she rambles tipsily.
Our celebrations carry well into the night. Riley’s blitzing margaritas in the kitchen, head thrown back, singing off-key to whatever playlist she’s hijacked. The blender whirs violently, drowning her out, but I don’t care.
Watching her dance barefoot through my shiny, way-too-perfect kitchen—carefree, wild—makes something in my shoulders loosen.
It feels…right.
Like maybe this place could be ours. The beginning of the dream we once dared to hope for.
OurNew York.
The blender groans to a stop. Riley glances at me, one brow lifting as she reads me like a damn book.
“You okay?” she asks, still holding the lid, like she’s ready to launch into full therapy mode if I so much as blink too long.
“Yeah.” I smile, cheeks warm—partly from the tequila, partly from the idea forming in my head. Solidifying faster than the frozen margaritas she’s about to pour.
She doesn’t move. Watches me closely now, lips twitching like she already knows.
“Elena,” she says slowly, tilting her head. “You’re looking at me like you want to make out with me or something.”
I let out a breath, laughing into it. “I know I complain about all of this,” I start, words bubbling up before I can stop them.
She snorts. “You? Complain? Never.”
I roll my eyes.
“Seriously, babe.” My throat tightens. “I wouldn’t have gotten through any of it—the shit with my family, with my mom—without you. I don’t think you realize how much I need you.”
Her face softens. For a second, I think she’s going to crack a joke. But she doesn’t.
“Of course I know,” she admits gently. “But you don’t have to say that.”
“Iwantto say it.” My heart’s pounding—too fast, too loud, like it already knows what I’m about to do. “And I want to ask you something.”
She raises an eyebrow, as she tries to read me. “Okay…are we getting married? Because the answer is yes.”
I scoff, shaking my head. God, she makes it easier to breathe.
I push off the counter and step closer.
“Move in with me.”
The words land between us, heavier than I expect.
Riley’s eyes widen. Her mouth parting slightly. “Wait…what?”
“Move in. Here. With me.”
She glances around the apartment, brows furrowed. “Elena, you can’t be serious. I can’t afford this place. I mean—look at it. This is like, millionaire level shit. You’d be subsidizing my whole life.”
I shrug, trying to act like my heart isn’t about to break free from my chest. “So? I’m not asking for your rent, Riley. I’m asking foryou.To be here. You need a place, right? That apartment in Queens fell through again. I don’t want you living with weird roommates and someone’s emotional support lizard.”
