Page 150 of Collide

And Broderick? Broderick still hasn’t looked away.

I take a slow breath. I told myself I was going to focus on Alex. I chose this. So I press closer to Alex, burying the discomfort, and pretend I haven’t seen the slight tick in Broderick’s jaw—the one that makes my insides knot.

There’s only so much I can take before going full feral on those perfectly toned, over-perfumed bitches. Their fawning has long since crossed into open flirting.

So I leave Alex with his fan club, flashing a tight smile that probably looks more like a snarl, and slip inside under the guise of checking on things.

Really, I just need air.

I move through the house on autopilot, heels clicking sharply against the marble, offering empty nods and polite smiles until I reach the front porch.

Finally, quiet.

The door clicks shut behind me. I press my palms to the railing, breathe. And then I feel him before I see him.

Broderick.

“Hey, co-host,” Broderick calls out, smooth and teasing. Full of humor.

No. I donotneed this.

I don’t even glance back. I just turn on my heel and storm down the stairs to the driveway, needing air, needing space, needing…not them.

The sun hits my skin. I inhale deep, trying to exhale the frustration boiling beneath my ribs.

But then I hear them.

Footsteps. Two sets.

I don’t have to turn to know.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“Elena,” Alex calls, his voice tight.

“Elena,” Broderick echoes, just as firm, just more concerned.

I spin, heat flooding my chest. “You havegotto be kidding me.”

They both freeze. Neither of them looks guilty.

That only pisses me off more.

“Seriously?” I snap. “What is this? Duel at dawn? Fight to the death? What’s next, a literal dick-measuring contest?”

Alex drags a hand through his hair, jaw flexing. “No one’s fighting, Elena.”

Broderick lets out a breath—sharp, skeptical.

“Oh, don’t do that,” I groan. “Don’t stand there like you’re both innocent. You were acting like goddamncavemen.”

I turn on Broderick first, fury rolling off me. “You don’t think I notice you glaring at me like you’ve got something to say but won’t?”

Then to Alex, venom rising in my throat. “Andyou—standing there while Avery practically dry-humps your arm, like she was two seconds away from dropping to her knees right there.”

Broderick’s eyes snap to mine. For a second, something raw cracks through—frustration, yes, but also something else. Something deeper. Something I don’t want to name.

Alex doesn’t move. Arms crossed. Lips pressed tight. Not backing down. “Elena, you don’t get it,” he says, his voice low. “This isn’t, she wasn’t?—”