Page 58 of Collide

“That a beautiful woman like you hasn’t been ravished like she should. It’s a crime, really. Is there something wrong with the men of Australia?” he asks, his voice filled with mock disbelief.

We both laugh, the sound cutting through the tension and easing my nerves.

And for the first time, I realize?—

I don’t feel afraid. I sigh, my fingers absentmindedly tracing the fabric of the borrowed shirt.

“Alex, there’s something you should know about me,” I say, my voice quieter now. “I don’t trust easily.”

I feel his gaze on me—calm and unwavering.

“I’ve been hurt before,” I continue, exhaling softly. “For a long time, I thought it was easier to keep people at arm’s length and focus on other things—school, my career—rather than get caught up in something that could hurt me,”

I don’t elaborate. I don’t want to ruin the moment.

Alex doesn’t push, and for that, I’m grateful.

His fingers brush against the back of my hand, the warmth of his touch grounding me. “And now?”

“Now…” My lips twitch slightly, barely a smile. “I don’t know. I feel like throwing caution to the wind. I’m starting to see things differently. Wanting things I’ve never experienced, searching for somethingmore.”

Alex’s gaze darkens, his fingers stilling against my skin.

“And what do you want?”

I swallow, my pulse thrumming like a live wire.

“You.”

The word slips out in a whisper, weighty and raw, carrying years of suppressed longing.

I’ve wanted him since the moment I saw him in that hospital—the connection, the pull, the danger of it all.

His breath hitches, his lips parting slightly like my confession has knocked the air right out of him.

Then a grin spreads across his face, and for a moment, he looks just like the photo in his bedroom, and I like that I made him feel that way.

For once, I don’t overthink. Curiosity and desire drowning out the fear and anxiety.

“Can…I touch you?” The words spill out before I can second-guess them, bold and breathless. My fingers twitch, aching to explore his body—if he’ll let me.

Alex exhales slowly.

“Anywhere you want.” He nods once, voice hoarse.

I reach for the hem of his shirt and tug it over his head in one swift motion. I want to see and feel every inch of his body.

His eyes are hooded.

I lick my lips, taking in the shape of him—his chest, the lean definition of muscle and skin. My fingers skim across his torso, slow and light. Warmth radiates off him, alive under my touch. I press my palm to his chest, right over the steady thrum of his heart. I move slowly, deliberately, mapping every ridge and plane like it’s mine to remember.

His eyes burn, breaths becoming heavier with every passing second.

I find his hands and guide them to my thighs, pushing them beneath the fabric of my loose shorts. His fingers meet my skin, and his grip tightens.

Slowly, I pull his hands back out and slip them under my shirt.

Alex’s eyes widen.