Page 96 of Collide
Riley raises a brow, glancing between us. “So that’s why you guys look like the undead.”
Logan grins tiredly. “I’m pretty sure we hit dawn before they called the last take.”
I mutter, slouching deeper into the chair. “I’m running on fumes and bad coffee.”
Logan nods in solidarity. “I think I’m still wearing yesterday’s deodorant.”
Riley snorts, amused.
“So, I’m guessing you’renotup for the VIP party tonight?” Logan asks, raising a brow.
A party? I can barely keep my eyes open.
“We’ll be there!” Riley chimes in before I can even open my mouth, her grin wide and determined.
Just then, a staffer pokes her head in. “Mr. Fisher? They’re ready for you.”
Logan stands with a sigh, stretching like it takes all his effort. “Showtime.” He flashes a small grin before following her out.
The door shuts behind him, and Riley wastes no time grabbing a chocolate-covered strawberry from the table, turning to me with a glint in her eye.
“Wanna check out the exhibits?” she asks, taking a bite like she already knows I’ll say yes.
I sigh, feeling like I’ve been steamrolled, but Riley’s excitement is hard to resist.
“Sure.” I offer a tired but real smile.
As we walk around the convention center, it’s wall to wall with attendees, some dressed in incredibly elaborate costumes. There’s so much to see and take in.
A few fans recognize me, stopping briefly to snap photos and ask for autographs.
Despite the buzz and excitement all around us, something else soon grabs my attention, and my heart drops straight to the floor.
Riley and I pause near a towering promotional poster, and my breath catches in my throat.
There, looming above us, with piercing eyes and a fierce, battle-hardened expression…It’s him.
Alex.
My cheeks burn as I stare up at his face, larger than life, like the universe is playing some cruel joke on me.
“What the actual hell is this?” I snap, my voice sharper than I intend, but I can’t stop the anger rising in my chest.
Riley turns to me, confused. “What do you mean? It’s a promo poster forThe Almighty Nordic Gods,” she says casually, as if that explains anything. Like I’m supposed to know.
I whirl around to face her, eyes wide, heart racing. “This.” Gesturing manically at the poster, my hand trembles slightly. “This ishim!”
Her brows knit together. “Him?” she echoes, clueless.
“Alex!” I hiss, glaring at her like she should already understand.
Riley blinks at me, her mouth opening and closing like she’s trying to catch up. “Wait…yourAlex?”
I let out a shaky breath, my anger simmering below the surface. “Yes,myAlex. Or…notmyAlex, apparently.”
She stares at me, and then her eyes start to widen as the pieces finally click into place.
“Hold on.” She points between me and the poster, connecting invisible dots, her voice stretching with disbelief. “Are you telling me your Alex—handsome stranger Alex—isthatAlex? Alexander fucking Westerberg? The blond god fromThe Almighty Nordic Gods?!”
