Page 38 of Collide (The Rhapsody of Heartbeats #1)

Alex

?lskling, sounds good. Can I bring anything?

I stare at the screen, my heartbeat skipping at the familiar Swedish endearment.

Riley, ever the nosy menace, peeks over my shoulder. “Aww, he cares.”

I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the small flutter in my chest. “Mind your business.”

She grins, plucking her wine glass off the coffee table. “Oh, babe, you are my business.”

An hour later, a knock sounds at my door.

Before I can move, Riley beats me to it, flinging it open with all the theatrics of someone who was waiting for this moment.

Alex stands there, unfairly sexy, dressed in a black shirt and jeans, his hair still slightly wind-ruffled. He holds a bag of takeout in one hand, a second smaller bag tucked beneath his arm.

Riley eyes the takeout before she even acknowledges him.

“You’re late,” she announces, snatching the bag from his hands. “But you brought food, so I’ll allow it.”

Alex chuckles, stepping inside. “Nice to see you, too, Riley, under different circumstances.”

My face heats up, fuck, that’s right—the oral interruption.

“Riley, Alex, Alex, Riley, but you both already knew that,” I say by way of introduction in between sips of wine.

She inspects the containers. “Sushi? Fancy.”

“Figured I’d keep it safe.” He follows her toward the dining table. “Didn’t want to show up with burgers if Elena was in a salad mood.”

Riley snorts, dropping into her chair. “Trust me, she only eats salads when forced.”

I groan, sitting down across from her. “Are you two seriously discussing my eating habits right now?”

Alex grins, setting the smaller paper bag beside me.

I glance at it, raising a brow. “What’s that?”

He shrugs, the corner of his mouth tugging up in that lazy, infuriatingly charming way. “Dessert. Thought I’d make up for everything .”

The word lands. Perhaps he understands how the intense media attention is affecting me.

Riley claps her hands together. “Oh, he’s good .”

Alex smirks. “I try.”

I shake my head, fighting back a smile as we dig in.

The conversation is easy, familiar. Riley launches into her latest dating disaster, complete with exaggerated hand gestures and a very dramatic reenactment of a man attempting to ‘neg’ her at work.

Alex laughs, shaking his head, and I watch the way his shoulders relax, the way his eyes crinkle at the edges.

And every so often, I feel his gaze flick toward me.

An hour later, Riley stretches her arms dramatically, glancing at the time.

“Welp.” She claps her hands. “Sorry to love and leave you guys, I got myself a hot date.” She winks.

“Wait—what?” I gape at her. “Riley.”

She grins, backing toward the door. “You kids behave.”

Alex, the absolute menace, smirks. “No promises.”

Riley waggles her brows at me. Then she’s gone.

The second the door clicks shut, a different kind of silence settles.

The kind that hums with possibility.

I turn toward Alex, exhaling a soft scoff. “That was subtle.”

He laughs. “Extremely.”

A pause.

The air between us shifts as the weight of unspoken words settles in.

He leans back in his chair, but there’s nothing relaxed about the way he’s watching me. The way his fingers drum lightly against the table, like he’s holding back from reaching for me. Like he’s waiting for me to stop running.

Then, he speaks.

“Any reason why you’ve been avoiding me lately?” His lips curve into a smirk, but there’s an edge beneath it. A quiet tension.

I exhale, my fingers tracing the rim of my wine glass. There’s no dodging it now.

“If I’m being honest,” I start, choosing my words carefully, “it’s all been…overwhelming.”

Alex’s smirk fades, his expression shifting into something softer, more attentive. He doesn’t interrupt.

I exhale sharply, pushing my hair behind my ear. “I didn’t expect this. When this all started, I had no idea it would turn into this. I get it now, why you kept your identity a secret. In some ways, I wish we could go back in time.”

His face drops.

“Not before I knew you,” I clarify. “I wasn’t prepared for this. All this attention.” I sigh. “It’s a lot. You’re a lot.”

His brows lift slightly, amused. “I’m a lot?”

I shoot him a look. “Alex. Be serious.”

He chuckles, but it’s quiet, almost self-deprecating. “I am serious. You think I don’t know that? That I don’t realize what being with me means, why I tried to shield you from it, even for a short time?”

I stare at him, feeling the weight of his words. Because of course he knows. This is his life. The cameras, the tabloids, the constant scrutiny—it’s not new to him. But it’s new to me.

“I don’t know how to navigate it,” I admit.

“How to handle the fact that my name—my work—is now being linked to yours in ways I can’t control.

” I look down at my hands, my frustration creeping in.

“It’s like we’re puppets on a string, letting PR teams decide what we can and can’t do.

Who we can be seen with, where we can go, what we say. ”

Alex sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I know. It’s frustrating as hell.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze locking onto mine. “But, Elena, you’re not in this alone. We’ll figure it out. Together .”

I chew on my lip, my emotions tangled between relief and hesitation. “And if it gets worse? If it starts affecting my career?”

His jaw tightens. “Then we deal with it.”

I scoff. “It’s not that simple.”

“It’s not,” he agrees. “But I’ve done this long enough to know that the only way through it is to decide what we want and stand by it.” His voice dips lower. “So what do you want, Elena?”

I swallow the lump in my throat. Because despite the whirlwind, the overwhelming media storm, the pressure—the answer has always been the same.

I want him.

I meet his eyes, my voice quieter now. “I don’t want to lose myself or my hard work in all of this.”

His expression softens, his fingers reaching across the table to brush against mine. “Then don’t. I’m not asking you to change or to let them define you. I want to be in this with you.”

I let out a slow breath, my fingers curling slightly around his.

“Okay.”

“Then get over here, I miss you in my arms.”

I hesitate for only a second.

Then I move.

My chair scrapes against the floor as I stand, the space between us shrinking as I round the table. Alex doesn’t move, doesn’t push, he just watches. His eyes are piercing, dark, patient, filled with something steady and sure that makes my heart trip over itself.

When I reach him, he pulls me in instantly, his hands gripping my hips as he tugs me onto his lap like I belong there.

And maybe I do.

I let out a breathy laugh as I settle against him, my hands pressing against his chest, his warmth seeping into my skin.

Alex exhales like he’s finally right where he’s meant to be. His arms wrap around me, one hand splaying wide across my lower back, the other sliding up my spine, fingers threading through my hair.

“Better,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, his lips brushing against my jaw.

I shiver, my breath catching. “You’re very demanding.”

He grins, nosing along my cheek. “Only when I know what I want.”

And right now, I know exactly what he wants.

The tension that has been building all evening tightens between us, threading through my veins like a live wire. His fingers flex against my hips, holding me there, anchoring me, but it’s not enough.

I tilt my head, brushing my nose against his, teasing. His breath stirs against my lips, his grip tightening slightly.

“Elena,” he murmurs, his voice a hushed warning, as if he’s barely holding himself back.

I don’t want him to.

I close the distance, pressing my lips to his—slow at first, tender and playful.

Then Alex makes a sound—low, deep, almost pained—and whatever restraint he had left shatters.

The kiss turns hungry, his hands gripping me tighter as he pulls me closer, pressing me against him like he needs me to breathe. I feel the heat of him everywhere, the firm press of his chest against mine, the way his fingers slide up beneath my shirt, skimming my skin, tracing fire in their wake.

I tilt my head, deepening the kiss, swallowing the groan that rumbles in his throat. His hands slide lower, gripping my thighs, shifting me against him. I throb with desire.

My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging slightly, and he groans, his teeth nipping at my lower lip.

I gasp against his mouth. “Alex?—”

He doesn’t stop.

Doesn’t slow.

And God help me, I don’t want him to.

I grip his shoulders, pressing into him, needing more, feeling his hands slide beneath my shirt, his fingers digging into my bare skin.

He lifts me and lays me out on the dining table, taking in the sight of me, sprawled out, wild, and wanting.

“Take your shirt off,” I beg breathlessly, longing to feel his skin. He takes it off in one smooth move, and his lips are back on mine, starving and desperate.

His mouth trails down my throat, slow and teasing, the scrape of his stubble leaving sparks in its wake. I tilt my head, giving him more access, and his grip on my hips tightens in response. His breath is warm, unsteady, a sharp contrast to the cool air against my flushed skin.

He begins taking my shirt off.

Then—

A loud knock at the door.

We both freeze.

Breathing hard.

Alex’s lips hover over mine, his breath warm against my mouth.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he groans, his voice thick with frustration, his forehead resting against mine.

The knock comes again. Louder.

“Elena? It’s Riley. I forgot my purse. Which also has my key!”

I let out a mortified laugh, burying my face in Alex’s shoulder.

He groans again, dropping his head against my neck, muttering something in Swedish that I’m pretty sure is a curse.

He pulls back, breathless, still dazed from the heat of the moment, from the way my body still thrums with desire.

Alex looks at me, his pupils blown wide, chest rising and falling unevenly.

“This isn’t over,” he murmurs, his fingers tightening against my jaw.

I pulse in anticipation.

No. It’s definitely not.