Page 28 of Collide (The Rhapsody of Heartbeats #1)

How Will I Know

T he few days leading up to our trip to San Diego blur past in a whirlwind.

Riley moves into my apartment the day after brunch—a relief for both of us. I don’t have to worry about her safety anymore, and she doesn’t have to worry about her art supplies becoming ferret casualties.

We pack together, our suitcases filled with swimsuits, sundresses, and too many shoes, the excitement humming between us.

Our flight is the final cherry on top. First class.

Our first time ever, together, which makes it even sweeter.

Courtesy of the label, of course.

We practically dissolve into giggles exploring the suites, pressing every button like wide-eyed tourists, feeling for the first time like we’re really living our dream.

When we land in San Diego, Mark is waiting for us with a grin.

We settle into our hotel suite—two bedrooms, huge windows, a view that looks like it belongs on a postcard. The ocean sparkles just beyond the glass, endless and bright.

I’ve always loved the beach.

Something about the way the horizon blurs into forever makes it easy to lose yourself. In dreams, in memories, in all the things that still might be.

Mark scrolls through his tablet while I pick at my lunch.

“Okay, so today’s a free day, just to get settled and rest,” he says.

I nod between mouthfuls. “Nice.”

“Tomorrow, you’ve got promo photoshoots for social media content and the single cover.”

He taps the screen a few more times, skimming the schedule.

“Then interviews. Evening is free, then three full days of shooting, Geek-Fest, a free Friday, and you fly out Saturday morning.”

“Oh. That’s…not a lot of free time.”

Alex and I had agreed on a date, but we hadn’t pinned down a time or place yet. With the way things were sounding, it wasn’t looking promising.

Mark glances up at me, almost apologetic.

“It’s a tight schedule. And there’ll be a few night shoots too.”

“That’s what we’re here for, right?” I sigh, pushing my half-eaten plate away before taking a sip of my drink.

Mark nods.

“Exactly. Is there anything I can do for you? Any touristy things you’d like me to arrange?”

I want to call Alex first, to see what his plans are before making any decisions.

“Let me get back to you on that,” I say.

“Sounds good. I’m on the floor below if you need anything. Rio and Inga are flying in this afternoon for the week,” he adds, getting up and walking toward the door.

“Enjoy your day,” I call after him.

Then, Riley steps out of her room, flashing Mark a devilish grin.

“You’re leaving already?”

“Plenty of work to keep me busy,” he shrugs, a slight flush creeping up his neck.

“Boo, Mark, you’re no fun.”

“That’s what my ex-wife would say,” he throws over his shoulder before opening the door.

Well, that was awkward.

“See ya,” I wave, trying not to laugh.

Riley blows him a kiss, and Mark shakes his head, smiling as the door clicks shut behind him.

“You’re a menace.” I laugh at Riley.

“Only for a silver fox.” She snickers.

I shake my head while pulling out my phone and shoot Alex a quick text.

Elena

Hey, we’re officially West Coast!

I wait for a moment, but he doesn’t text back right away.

He’s probably busy with whatever it is he does.

The mystery still lingers between us.

With the rest of the day free, Riley and I head down to the beach, eager to make the most of the glorious weather. We frolic in the water, chasing seagulls, cackling until our sides hurt.

After some much-needed hydrotherapy, we head up to a beachside restaurant for refreshments.

Leaning my chin on my hands, I ask, “What’ll you have?”

Riley peruses the menu, her face kissed pink from the sun.

“Watermelon margaritas sound good. Maybe tacos?”

I smile.

“I didn’t see those on the menu, but I probably should lay off the alcohol. Don’t want to be puffy tomorrow.”

She laughs.

“I’m fine being the puffy chaperone.”

“Alright. Watermelon margaritas and tacos. Be right back,” I chirp, hopping off the stool and heading toward the bar.

I relay our order to the bartender before wandering back to our table overlooking the beach.

The sun hangs low in the sky, painting everything in gold.

It’s later in the afternoon, and the world feels softer, slower.

I’ve never seen the sun set from this side of the world before.

In Jervis Bay, it always sank behind the mountains, rising over the water instead.

But here, in San Diego, the sun melts into the ocean.

My phone buzzes, interrupting the easy silence. It’s Alex.

“Hey, Riley, it’s Alex. Do you mind?” I ask, pointing to my phone.

Her eyes dance with amusement. “Babe, of course not! Answer.”

I hit the button.

“Hi.” My voice is soft, aware of Riley watching me like a hawk.

“?lskling,” Alex says, his voice warm but worn around the edges.

“I’m sorry I’m only getting back to you now. Today’s been…busy.”

“That’s okay,” I murmur.

“What days are you free this week? We should go on that second date.”

My heart flutters.

We go over our schedules and quickly realize there are really only two days we can make it work.

We settle on an evening date, the night before I have to shoot the music video for ‘Sparks . ’

The call is brief.

He sounds distracted, preoccupied.

Riley watches me the whole time, her chin resting on her hand, grinning like she’s witnessing the best reality TV show of her life.

When the food arrives, she immediately shovels tacos into her mouth, still grinning.

“You seem different around him,” she says between bites.

“Different how?” I ask, dipping a chip into some salsa and popping it into my mouth.

“I don’t know…your back’s a little straighter, more proper. Maybe even a little stiff.”

I groan. “He’s kind of intimidating. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I get it.” Riley waves her margarita. “You like him. You’re worried you’ll say the wrong thing.”

Before I can argue, two guys saunter over to our table, all sun-bleached hair, board shorts, and easy surfer grins. Very typical of the guys back home.

“Sorry to interrupt, ladies,” one of them interjects, pointing to himself. “I’m Connor, this here’s Jake. We were wondering if we could buy you two drinks?”

Riley flicks her eyes to me, her face screaming hell yes .

I look back at her, sending a silent no thank you shrug.

She looks back with a silent please.

I would never want to twat-swat my best friend. So I take a deep breath and nod.

Her face lights up with glee. “Why, of course you can! Pull up a chair.”

“Woah, did you hear her accent, man?” Jake says to Connor, bumping his shoulder. “Fucking hot, dude.”

I roll my eyes.

Charming.

“Where are you guys from?” Connor asks, sliding into the seat beside Riley.

She giggles, flipping her hair over her shoulder like she’s in a shampoo commercial.

Jake pulls up a chair beside me, and if I was stiff before, I am absolutely stone now.

I’ve seen Riley flirt her way through plenty of men. These two will be no exception.

“Australia,” she coos sweetly. “Are you two locals?”

They chuckle, nudging each other like overexcited puppies.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I’m Riley, by the way,” she says, pointing to herself. “And this is my best friend, Elena.”

The guys nod.

“Nice to meet you two,” Connor says flashing a smile.

“You’re very quiet,” Jake adds, looking at me.

“Am I?” I reply, raising an eyebrow.

He scoffs.

“Yeah. But you’re a straight-up smoke show, so it’s cool.”

“She is hot, isn’t she?” Riley jumps in, trying to defuse the awkwardness with a bright laugh.

They buy us a round of drinks, and while Jake keeps trying to flirt with me, I barely give him an inch. One-word answers, polite smiles.

I’m not interested in either of these guys. They remind me too much of the douchebags back home and I can’t even pretend otherwise.

Meanwhile, Riley works her magic, flirting easily, first with Connor, then with Jake when he joins in.

By the time the sun dips below the horizon, she’s exchanged numbers with Connor and even arranged to meet up with him on one of the days I’ll be tied up with work.

Jake leans over toward me, a hopeful grin on his face.

“Elena, think I can get your number?”

Before I can respond, Connor chuckles and throws an arm around his friend.

“Dude, she’s not interested. Leave the girl alone.”

“Sorry, Jake,” I say, polite but firm. “Connor’s right.”

Connor whoops, teasing, “Damn, man, she’s cold.”

Cold.

It isn’t the first time I’ve been called that by boys like them.

Frigid. Ice queen.

Words thrown at me by guys who didn’t like being told no, who didn’t like that I wouldn’t put out. But I’m not about to lead Jake on, not when my heart is already tangled up with someone else.

I like Alex. I want Alex.

And while Jake is pleasant enough to look at, he doesn’t make my pulse race or my chest tighten the way Alex does. Not even close.

Once they leave, Riley turns to me, her eyes wide.

“What was that?”

I shrug, taking a sip of my drink.

“Babe, he was hot and interested.” Riley nudges me.

“Alex is hotter,” I tease.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Riley quips back.

“Plus, it feels kind of wrong , like I’m cheating. And you know how I feel about that.”

“I’m sorry, did I miss the part where Alex asked you to be his girlfriend?” she questions, shaking her head in mock disbelief.

“What do you mean?”

“Babe,” she exclaims, leaning in like she’s about to deliver a masterclass. “It’s not cheating until you put a label on it.”

“It still feels wrong.”

“Elena, no. It’s about keeping your options open.” She sighs, shaking her head like I’m a lost cause.

Options…like Broderick?

That thought comes out of nowhere and slaps me in the face.

What the fuck, brain.

I shake the thought off.

“Until you and Alex slap a label on it—or agree you’re exclusively dating—you’re still a free agent.”

“Okay, Master Fisher,” I shoot back, raising my glass. “I’ll take your word for it.”