Page 13 of Collide (The Rhapsody of Heartbeats #1)

To my surprise and delight, Alex stays the entire night, helping me to the bathroom like I’ve shattered my spine, not knocked my head like a clumsy idiot.

It’s mortifying. My pride’s bruised worse than my skull.

But he won’t let me do anything alone. And every time his hands steady me, light and careful, I feel him peeling back walls I swore were solid.

Every touch whispers let me in, and worse, some traitorous part of me wants to roll out the red carpet, flip on the welcome sign, and say okay.

I wake up to someone opening the blinds, the light spilling into the room. Alex is awkwardly asleep on the guest couch, which is far too small for his tall frame. I gently put my finger to my lips, silently asking them to keep quiet so he doesn’t wake Alex.

The orderly nods and helps me into a wheelchair, taking me for a scan. On our way back to the room, I quickly send a text to my sister, letting her know where I am. I turn my phone on silent, ignoring its immediate buzzing.

She’ll be worried, I think, but I want a few more moments with Alex before I never see him again. The thought pains me. Maybe we can be friends?

When we get back to my room, I freeze.

Alex is gone.

Of course, I didn’t expect him to stay the whole night. Why would he? I can’t help the disappointment blooming in the pit of my stomach. Suddenly, the bathroom door creaks open, and there he is.

Our eyes lock, and a flutter dances beneath my skin.

“Good morning, Elena.” He smiles, and relief washes over me.

“Hi,” I say, quietly, aware I probably look like I’ve been hit by a bus and dragged halfway here.

He lifts me from the wheelchair and back into bed, brushing off my half-hearted protests. I hate how easily I let him, but the warmth of his hands on my skin makes it hard to think straight.

Before I can savor the moment, a nurse bursts in. I flinch at Alex’s lingering touch and shift my attention to her. She’s petite, with brunette hair, a cheerful smile, and dressed in standard scrubs.

“Miss Montgomery, how are you feeling this morning?” She smiles politely. “I’m Dr. Ryan.”

Not a nurse, a doctor.

“Hi, I’m okay,” I stutter, my voice still a little shaky from the unexpected attention I’m getting.

“Your scans look good. I’ll need to check your vitals and take a look at your stitches before we can discharge you,” Dr. Ryan says, grabbing the blood pressure cuff and wrapping it around my arm.

“Will your boyfriend be taking you home?” she asks, eyeing Alex.

Boyfriend?

Blood rushes to my face, and I glance up at Alex through my lashes. He doesn’t flinch, merely nodding at the doctor as if he has every right to be here.

“Um, no, he’s, um, my sister—he’s not my boyfriend,” I stammer, immediately regretting the way I clarify things.

I glance back at Dr. Ryan, then back to Alex. He winks at me.

What, why didn’t correct her?

Dr. Ryan proceeds with the examination, shining a small flashlight into my eyes, then inspecting my head.

I wince at the slight pain as she prods at the stitches.

I feel a cool hand slip into mine, and I know it’s Alex.

My body calms momentarily, but heat surges up my arm, and I can’t focus on anything else.

“Everything seems okay. We’ll discuss aftercare and your follow-up appointment. Any dizziness or blurred vision, please come back to emergency immediately,” Dr. Ryan states, pulling away.

She adjusts my head back gently. “You’re not allowed to get it wet for the next twenty-four hours, and try not to use any products in your hair until the stitches dissolve in about a week.”

Just then, a commotion outside catches my attention. The door opens, and a flustered nurse enters, followed by a very irritated Philippa. She storms into the room, immediately eyeing Alex, who hasn’t released my hand.

He doesn’t move it. I glance at him, confused, but he remains in position.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Philippa seethes, eyeing Alex up and down.

I shrug, removing my hand from his, embarrassed at enjoying that moment a little too much.

“Would someone please explain?” She huffs, looking between the three of us.

“Miss…?” Dr. Ryan interrupts, and both Alex and I seem to exhale in relief.

“Miss Montgomery,” snaps Philippa, prompting Dr. Ryan to proceed.

“If you would please step outside with me,” Dr. Ryan continues, gently ushering her out into the hallway.

I risk a glance at Alex. He’s looking at me with an intensity that makes my heart race, and I quickly avert my gaze.

“Sorry about my sister,” I apologize, feeling bad for the way she barreled in here, though I don’t blame her.

“It’s okay.” He smiles, brushing a strand of hair from my face with the gentleness of someone far too used to calming people down.

Philippa walks back in a moment later, her eyes glassy. She looks at Alex and then at me, her expression shifting from irritation to something softer, but also a little surprised.

“Oh, God! We thought something awful had happened.” She gasps, her eyes filling with tears as she pulls me into a quick but tight embrace.

Oh, shit. Guilt hits me hard, fast, and without warning. “Sorry, Pip, it was an accident. I was out of it, and by the time I came to, it was almost midnight. Figured you’d be asleep.”

“Well, you thought wrong. We’ve been sick with worry. The police wouldn’t let us file a report because it hadn’t been twenty-four hours yet. We assumed you’d run away—back to Australia or off with some guy,” she exclaims, looking directly at Alex.

The thought warms something in me. My sister had been worried. I knew she cared in her own way. I didn’t mean to make her panic. Still, it meant something.

“And you rescued her?” she directs at Alex, who looks at her with hardly any emotion on his face.

He nods. “Yes, I did.”

“Thank you,” she says. She tilts her head slightly like she’s studying him. Then I see it—his mask slips.

“All good.” He shrugs, shifting slightly, taking a step back. He coughs uncomfortably as he turns to the side.

Weird.

“The doctor tells me you’re being discharged,” she says, turning her attention back to me, pulling me out of my thoughts as she smooths her frazzled hair.

I finally take a look at her and realize she’s not dressed in her usual polished manner, but in navy sweats, her hair barely brushed, not a bit of makeup.

She must have rushed here as soon as she received my message.

The thought tugs at something inside me.

“I’m okay, but I need the bathroom.” I smile at her, and she finally relaxes a little. I stand up, feeling a bit unsteady.

“I’ll help you,” Alex and Philippa say in unison.

She shoots him a glare, clearly annoyed, but Alex cocks his head to the side, unfazed.

“I can manage,” I insist, grabbing my clothes and making my way to the ensuite.

When I come back, the room is tense. Alex is sitting on the guest lounge, and Philippa is leaning against the bed, holding discharge papers. Alex immediately stands and is by my side in two strides.

“Elena, I have somewhere I need to be.” Alex hesitates. “Call me, okay?” He hands me a small piece of paper with his number on it, his hand lingering against mine once more, sending a shiver through me.

“Sure, I owe you for dinner last night.” I nod, trying haphazardly to joke, my voice barely shaking, feeling shy under his intense gaze and gentle touch.

Philippa’s eyes are practically burning into us.

“No, you don’t,” he whispers. Leaning down, he gently cups my face and plants a kiss on either side of my cheeks, leaving me blushing and breathless. He picks up his baseball cap and leaves the room. Finally, I take a long breath and try to calm myself.

“Was that an online date gone wrong?” she asks, her eyebrow arched, having watched the exchange unfold before her.

I burst out laughing, finally coming back down to Earth after the heady experience. When I catch my breath, I recall the entire absurd situation to her as best I can.

In the car, Philippa is on her phone talking to my father. “Yes, Dad, she’s okay. A few stitches, nothing too serious. No, some guy. Yes, okay, I’ll see you in the office later.”

I nod absentmindedly, but my mind drifts back to Alex—his beautiful eyes, the calm presence that settled in the room when he was there. I’ve never met anyone like him before. How can you possibly have such a connection with someone you hardly know?

Is it chemical? I know no man has ever affected me the way he has—his intense gaze, the way his eyes pierced right through me, his hands that seemed to know exactly where to touch, and those lips…

“Elena…Elena!” Philippa calls out, her voice pulling me back to the present.

Oh, and that smile…

“Earth to Elena!” she yells, grabbing my arm and shaking me, snapping me out of my fantasy.

“Uh, yes?” I mumble, flustered, my mind hazy.

“Are you alright?” she asks, eyeing me like I’ve sprouted another head.

“Yes, sorry, just sleepy,” I lie, forcing a small smile to cover up the real storm brewing in my head. I don’t want to talk about Alex with her yet, not when I’m still so confused about the whole thing.

“What was that guy’s name again? He looked so familiar,” Philippa asks, but before I can answer, her phone beeps, and she’s back to business, her attention fully diverted as she takes a call.

Alex, I think to myself. His name is Alex .

I’m lying in bed later that afternoon, back at Philippa’s apartment, replaying every stolen moment with Alex like some love-sick teenager. Sure, I’ve had crushes in the past, but somehow, this feels different. Alex isn’t a boy—he’s all man.

His stormy eyes peered into my soul like he knew me. He touched me like he couldn’t help it. And for once, I craved it. His closeness had felt natural, almost like he couldn’t stay away, but maybe I’m reading too much into it.

The more I turn it over in my mind the more I wonder if the spark between us, could lead to something… more?

As thoughts of Alex swirl in my head, there’s a shift—faint at first, like a tickle at the base of my skull. I barely recognize it. It has been so long. My fingers itch.

I leap out of bed and grab my guitar, my hands moving over the strings like they’ve been waiting. A melody surfaces, sprouting from the back of my mind, my heart finally finding the rhythm to say everything my words cannot.

Within half an hour, I’ve written a song. For the first time in years. It feels good. No, great .

Then, it dawns on me.

I’ve written a song.

About him. Alex.

For the first time, I’m inspired by something that happened to me.

And it feels euphoric.

This was the inspiration I’ve been searching for.

As I set the guitar down, my phone buzzes. It’s Riley calling.

“Hey,” I answer, fiddling with the piece of paper that holds the lyrics. My mind is still half lost in the song I just created.

“Babe, Pip was going crazy looking for you yesterday! Are you okay? Were you with someone?” she asks, playfully teasing. Under normal circumstances, I would laugh it off, but this time, things are different.

“Actually, yeah,” I murmur, a grin creeping across my face as I remember the night with Alex.

The scream Riley lets out on the other end of the phone is so loud, I almost drop it. I quickly pull the phone away from my ear to avoid permanent hearing damage.

“Bitch! Tell me everything!” she shouts, still in shock.

I burst out laughing, unable to contain the giddy feeling bubbling inside me. “Okay, calm down.”

I recount the incident to her slowly, almost as if savoring the memory. But as I speak, my excitement begins to dull, giving way to doubt. Without meaning to, I start downplaying everything that happened last night—and this morning.

Maybe it was just a kind stranger being polite after I had hurt myself.

But Riley isn’t having any of it. “No way, Elena. I can hear it in your voice. If he wasn’t interested, he wouldn’t have given you his number!”

“Yeah.” The memory of Alex handing me that piece of paper makes me feel hopeful.

“You’re not imagining this. He’s into you.

I mean, come on, a guy doesn’t act like that unless he’s interested,” Riley says, her voice firm.

“I hoped that table would’ve knocked some sense into you.

Babe, he made the first move. The ball’s in your court now.

If you don’t go for it, I swear I’ll come over there and go for round two on the head-knocking. ”

I laugh, the tension in my chest loosening just a little. “You really think so?”

“I know so. Trust me, Elena,” she encourages me, her tone softening. “Go for it. What’s the worst that can happen? If it doesn’t work out, at least you’ll know you tried. But I’m telling you—he’s into you.”

I pause, letting her words sink in. Riley’s confidence in me gives me the boost I need.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” I agree, a little surer of myself.

“Hell, yeah, you will! Call me when you do.” Riley cackles. “And don’t forget, I’m rooting for you, so make me proud.”

I chuckle, feeling a little more lighthearted.

I can do this.

After the call with Riley, I find myself sitting on the edge of my bed, phone in hand, staring at Alex’s number. My heart beats faster the longer I look at it.

What am I doing?

I quickly glance at the lyrics to the song I wrote. I can’t believe I’m about to send a text to a guy who made my heart race with a few touches and a smile. Something I’ve never done before.

I start typing, my fingers hovering above the screen for a moment as if I’m trying to summon the right words. It’s so easy to overthink these things.

Hey Alex, it’s Elena. I hope you got home okay.

I stare at the sentence for a second, then delete it.

Too formal, too distant.

Hey Alex, this is Elena from the hospital… No, scratch that. It sounds like I’m still stuck in ER mode.

After several failed attempts, I finally settle on something that feels right.

Elena

Hey, it’s Elena. What a crazy way to meet someone new in the city! Anyway, thanks for your kindness last night.

I bite my lip, rereading it one last time.

It’s simple and sincere.

I hit send before I can second-guess myself.

Sitting back, the weight of the decision starts to sink in.

Ding !

A message comes through. I freeze, staring at the screen.

Alex

Hey Elena, It was a pretty unique way to meet, a great story to tell our grandkids one day.

Grandkids?

My heart skips a beat.