Page 155 of Collide
Firestarter
The mirror fogs with heat and hairspray. Someone’s got a Prince remix pulsing through the speaker, and the bathroom is alive with girl energy—heels kicked off, dresses half-zipped, lipstick tubes rolling across the counter like dice.
I press the tip of my eyeliner to my waterline and drag it, slow and steady. It gives my hands something to do.
“He’s so hot,” Sienna groans, elbow-deep in the steamer as she waves it over her satin dress. “That jawline? How are you not banging him twenty-four-seven, Elena?”
Avery snorts from where she’s perched cross-legged on the sink. “I saw a photo of him on a red carpet recently. He looked like sex in a tuxedo.”
“Honestly,” Philippa utters, ironing out her hair in long, impatient strokes, “he’s attractive, sure. But also completely full of himself. He seems intensely aware that he’s good-looking. I don’t know how you do it, Elena.”
I shrug, a little smug.
Riley flops backward on the bed in the adjoining room, voice floating through the open door. “Yeah, but when you look like that, why wouldn’t you be? I’d be insufferable.”
They all laugh.
I force a laugh, but it lands flat. They haven’t stopped talking about Alex, and honestly, I’d probably join in on objectifying him if my mind wasn’t still stuck on that conversation at the beach. Alex is out with friends for his birthday dinner. We’ll see each other later at the club. It’ll be fine. Whatever’s lingering between Broderick and me, it will pass.
I hope.
I dip my brush into a palette, keeping my eyes low, blending eyeshadow into the corners.
At least they’re not talking about Broderick. Which is good.
What if you met me first?His words haunt me.
“Hey Philippa,” Natalie calls from behind her curling iron, twisting a strand with practiced ease, “is Broderick seeing anyone?”
Fuck, I spoke too soon. I stare at her through the mirror. Natalie is beautiful, toned, tanned, with long brown hair.
Philippa catches her own eye in the mirror, one brow arching with a look that saysplease. Then she smirks.
“Yes—his job. You know him. Gym, work, charity, repeat. I don’t even know how he manages to squeeze in time to see his mother.”
“Tragic,” Natalie sighs dreamily. “I could fix that.”
Her words hit me, my chest tightens. I shouldn’t feel like this. Natalie is perfect. They would work well. They run in the same circle. It makes sense.
“I’d love to see you try.” Philippa flips her hair off her shoulder. “The last girl didn’t even last a month. He was in Dubai. Or Singapore. One of those. She dumped him before he even got off the plane.”
“Cold,” Riley mutters from the bed.
“Yeah.” Philippa pouts, completely unserious. “It’s sad, honestly. He’s a great guy. Loyal to a fault. Married to themission. But I think…for the right person?” She glances down, smoothing gloss onto her lips. “He’d move mountains.”
The words land heavy in my chest.
I trace my lip liner in slow, controlled strokes, eyes locked on my reflection. My throat tightens, too fast, too sudden. I breathe and refocus on the task.
For the right person.
A flash of him in my apartment. The look in his eyes when he leaned in. That pause, half a breath before a kiss that never came. My fingers had curled in his shirt. My pulse had stuttered.
He would’ve kissed me. Hewantedto.
If it weren’t for Alex’s call.
Now here I was, pretending I didn’t care while they all sat around laughing, planning Broderick’s hypothetical girlfriend and thirsting over Alex like we weren’t all tangled in the same messy web.
