Page 126 of Collide

Philippa, trying to regain composure, tsks. “Or, you know, pick the one you connect with. Broderick is kind. But whatever you decide, don’t hurt him. He doesn’t deserve that.”

“And he’s hot enough to make nuns rethink their vows,” Riley adds.

I laugh helplessly. “God, I hate you both.”

Philippa smiles, softer now. “No, you don’t. But youdoneed to figure out what you want. It’s not fair to string them both along.”

She’s right. I think.

“Also,” Philippa adds quietly. “I’m sorry, Riley. That was a low blow earlier.”

Riley exhales. “Yeah, well…I didn’t have to bite your head off either. I’m sorry too.”

Philippa gives her a small smile, and Riley raises her glass toward her in a silent toast.

I watch them, warmth blooming in my chest despite everything.

“I love you guys,” I murmur, even as I rub my temples. “You’re impossible, but I love you.”

Riley smirks. “We love you, too. Even if you are a hot mess.”

Philippa squeezes my hand. “Especially then.”

And yet, as I lean back against the couch, wine glass trembling slightly in my hand, one thing clings to me like a bruise that won’t fade. That loneliness that aches deep inside.

The part of me that Alex seems to understand, because he’s felt that loneliness too. He was drawn to it and perhaps I wasdrawn to his, two lonely ships, passing in the night. I know one thing for sure, we’re definitely lovers, definitely not nothing.

But then there is Broderick, who makes that loneliness disappear altogether, makes it so it isn’t even a thought in my mind. His warmth is like the sun—endless, a safe harbor to sail into. Someone like him could never understand that loneliness. Yet, would he even want me if he knew how unlovable I am? How the first man who was supposed to love me, want me, was willing to toss me aside. We’re definitely friends, but definitely not nothing either.

Alexisthe safe choice. And he’s still here, even after I shared it all with him. I have let him in when I’ve turned others away. And maybe that’s it—I opened up to him and that allowed Broderick to pass through, too easy, too quickly.

He wouldn’t choose me. Not if he knew. He likes what he sees like most boys do. Broderick is too good for someone like me. He would never get it.

He could never understand. Would he?

Chapter 18

Under My Skin

It’s hard to believe it’s been almost a month since I arrived in New York. Between days spent in the studio, radio interviews, and quiet movie nights in with Alex—nights that inevitably turn into heated make-out sessions, leaving movies unfinished—I’ve barely had time to prepare for Philippa and Andrew’s joint weekend celebration. With time running short, I invite Broderick over after work.

He told me he usually didn’t finish until nine—sometimes later—but when I said I’d probably be in bed by then, we settled on a more reasonable five o’clock.

I don’t know why seeing him again after the gala makes me nervous, but I’ve changed my outfit four times—finally settling on a fitted black T-shirt and jeans. Classic. Casual.

I lay out my laptop, snacks, and notepads across the dining table. Tidy the apartment. Run a cloth over the counter I’ve already cleaned twice. I’m doodling absentmindedly on the edge of a notepad when the buzzer goes off.

I cross to the wall and press the button. “Hey.”

“Hey, El.” His voice comes through the buzzer.

“Come on up.”

I smooth my hand down my jeans. My insides flutter, restless and electric.

Why am I so nervous?

Pacing the entryway, I try not to overthink until I hear the knock.