Page 16 of Collide

I roll my eyes in disbelief, laughing, but I can’t help but feel a little flattered. “Okay, sure.”

Riley grabs my hand and pulls me toward a quieter spot on a raised platform near the stairs. My legs feel like jelly in these heels, but I keep moving.

“No, I swear,” she continues, taking a swig of her drink.

I shake my head, but there’s a small part of me that’s intrigued. “Okay. Which one is he?”

She scans the bar, then points straight at them—one with dark skin and close-cropped hair, standing just shorter than the man who catches my eye. Tall. Blond. A white shirt clinging to his body in all the right ways.

Oh, wow. I can’t really see his face from this far, not with the lights dancing around, but there is something about him. An energy. The kind that makes someone stand out in a crowd.

He’s definitely worth the chase.

Liquid courage making me brave, and maybe a little too frisky for my own good, I decide to find out if he really was watching me dance.

I push through the crowd again, most bodies towering over me, but by the time we make it to the bar, the two men are no longer there.

“Aww, he’s gone!” I whine, louder than I meant to, trying to keep my cool over the blaring Rihanna track.

Riley laughs, grabbing my arm and pulling me back into the throng of bodies. “Plenty of those around,” she announces, clearly more amused by my failure than sympathetic.

After a few hours, I decide I’ve had enough. I pry Riley off a man with his shirt half open and drag her toward the exit. Pushing the doors open, I’m desperate to escape the thick nightclub air, a toxic mix of sweat, booze, and lust.

The cool, early morning breeze greets me like a breath of fresh air, a whisper of summer on my skin.

As we step outside, I spot a swarm of paparazzi huddled around a group of people. Flashbulbs erupt in chaotic bursts, illuminating their faces in sharp, blinding flashes.

And then, I see him—sort of. My vision is blurred by too much liquor. The tall blond man steps into a sleek black car, the crowd of photographers clamoring after him like a tidal wave.

My breath catches, a strange sense of recognition prickling at the back of my mind.

Was that the guy from the bar?

I squint, trying to focus, but my height works against me, the shifting bodies in front of me blocking my view.

A fleeting pang of frustration twists in my chest. Something about him feels…intriguing. The back of my neck tingles, but before I can piece it together, the car door slams shut, and he’s gone, swallowed by the night.

“Don’t they ever sleep?” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

As I’m about to walk away, Riley stops in her tracks. Before I can react, she heaves the contents of her stomach toward the curb in front of me.

“Ugh!” I protest, dodging the near miss.

“Oh, God,” she gasps, clutching her body. The color drains from her face, and she turns greener than her dress. I hold her once-straight hair, now a frizzy, matted mess, back, watching her empty the liquor from her body into the streets of New York.

Wow, Riley, classy.

I hail a cab, shoving Riley’s limp body into the backseat before we make our way home.

My phone buzzes aggressivelyon the nightstand, jolting me out of my haze. Everything in me sinks as I reach for it, my fingers hesitant, dreading what I’ll find. The harsh glow makes my already throbbing head worse. The screen is flooded with notifications, but one message stands out.

Kylie

Call me. Now.

I don’t even have the energy to roll my eyes before tapping her contact. She answers on the first ring.

“You’re all overPage Six,” she blurts out without preamble.