Page 45 of Collide (The Rhapsody of Heartbeats #1)

Treat You Better

T he Montgomery estate in the Hamptons looks like it belongs on the cover of an architecture magazine—which, to be fair, it has on more than one occasion. White-pillared elegance perched on sprawling green lawns, with a private stretch of beach glistening in the distance.

It’s grand, pristine, and perfectly curated—ironic, considering the people gathering under its roof this weekend are anything but.

The joint bachelor and bachelorette party for Philippa and Andrew is already underway. We drove up together last night, but while Philippa, Andrew, and Riley are settling in, I’m out running last-minute errands for Philippa’s bachelorette festivities.

As I step out of the car, bags in hand, the faint scent of salt from the private beach drifts through the air. But something else hangs heavier in the atmosphere.

This is the weekend Alex and Broderick will be in the same place for the first time, and I have no idea how I’m going to survive it.

That almost kiss, still lives rent free in my mind.

I barely have time to process the thought before Riley bursts through the grand doors like a human firecracker.

“Finally!” she groans, throwing her arms around me in a dramatic hug. “If I have to listen to Andrew talk about his latest investment strategy for one more second, I’m going to drown myself in the pool.”

I laugh, adjusting the grocery bags in my arms. “He’s really in business mode, huh?”

“He practically confiscated my snacks. Crumbs are apparently a threat to humanity.”

Before I can respond, a low, familiar voice cuts through the air—smooth, deep, and laced with something undeniable.

“If I’d known this weekend was an open invitation, I would’ve reconsidered.”

A prickle of awareness slides down my spine before I even turn around.

Broderick.

He stands casually at the top of the steps, the afternoon sunlight catching the sharp angles of his face. His green eyes lock onto mine, steady, unreadable—but something in his gaze lingers, sharp enough to make my stomach clench.

Dressed perfectly in linen trousers and a fitted navy shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms, he looks composed, completely at ease. But I know him well enough to recognize that underneath, he isn’t.

Riley lets out a low whistle beside me. “Careful, Bradley . You almost sound jealous.”

Broderick’s lips twitch, but his voice stays smooth, unbothered. “I don’t get jealous.”

“Plus, you’re the co-host,” I tease, shifting the weight of the bags. “You can’t back out now, chicken.”

He exhales a small, almost amused breath before stepping forward to take the bags from my hands.

Our fingers brush.

A fleeting touch.

But it’s enough.

A sudden warmth curls up my arm, betraying me completely as heat creeps up my neck. And before I can even process the reaction?—

The unmistakable sound of a sleek convertible engine hums into the driveway.

I don’t have to turn around to know who it is.

Alex.

He swings open the car door before the vehicle even fully stops, stepping onto the gravel like he’s meant to arrive late, like the party only really starts when he shows up.

He tugs off his sunglasses, eyes scanning the estate before landing on me. A slow, knowing smirk curling at his lips.

“Hey, ?lskling ,” he coos, striding toward me with an effortless confidence that always makes my pulse skip.

Before I can react, he scoops me up in an embrace, spinning me slightly as if we have all the time in the world.

I let out a startled laugh, hands gripping his shoulders.

“Hi,” I murmur shyly, lost in the moment. “Happy birthday.”

I lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

Alex hums approvingly against my mouth before pulling back enough to murmur, “This place is incredible.” His gaze flicks toward the house, excitement gleaming in his expression.

But then, his attention shifts.

And everything in the air changes.

I feel it before I even turn to look.

The moment Alex’s eyes land on Broderick, the atmosphere sharpens.

It isn’t obvious—not outright—but I know them both well enough to recognize the subtle shift.

The way Broderick’s posture stiffens, his jaw ticking slightly.

The way Alex’s smirk deepens, his gaze flicking over Broderick in a way that isn’t just curious.

It’s assessing.

Sizing him up.

Broderick doesn’t move, doesn’t react, but his grip tightens ever so slightly around the grocery bags.

Oh, no.

I barely have time to consider how bad this could get before Alex turns back to me, mischief dancing behind his gaze.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your…friend?”

There it is. That slight, intentional pause before friend , like he already suspects something more.

Broderick speaks before I can.

“Broderick Schwartz. The best man.”

His voice is calm, controlled, but the way he stresses best ? Deliberate.

Alex’s gaze flickers with amusement as he takes Broderick’s outstretched hand, gripping it firmly.

“Alex Westerberg.”

Neither of them lets go immediately.

I swear, I feel a low current of tension crackling between them, like the air just before a storm. Riley’s eyes are filled with amusement as her gaze bounces between the two.

Finally, Alex pulls his hand away. Leaning closer, he slips it into mine, interlacing our fingers.

He tilts his head slightly. “So, how do you two know each other?”

Broderick doesn’t hesitate. “We work together.”

A chill skates down my spine.

“What?” Alex raises an eyebrow. “Work together?”

“She’s the maid of honor.” His tone stays smooth, unreadable. “And I’m the best man.”

Best. Again.

I exhale sharply.

What in the pissing contest is this? Riley bites her lip, trying to stifle a smile.

Alex, of course, sees right through it.

His smirk widens, his grip tightening. “Ah.” His eyes slide back to me, twinkling with amusement. “The best man, but not her man,” Alex quips, not bothering to hide the sting.

What the fuck, Alex?

Broderick’s jaw locks.

Riley’s hand flies over her mouth.

“I don’t have time for whatever this is,” I mutter, letting go of Alex’s hand and spinning on my heel and striding into the house.

Inside, the estate is a flurry of quiet luxury—the soft clinking of glassware, the faint hum of activity from the staff prepping for the day’s events.

Across the kitchen, Philippa perches on a barstool in designer swimwear, sipping champagne.

“Here,” I say, reaching into my bag and handing her sunscreen.

She lights up. “Yay! Thanks, little sis! Can’t have tan lines before the wedding.”

Behind me, I hear footsteps as Alex, Broderick, and Riley finally make their way inside.

Riley gives me a look, but I ignore it, turning to Alex. “I’ll show you where you can put your things.”

Before Broderick—or anyone—can speak, I grab Alex’s hand and pull him toward the grand staircase.

My bedroom is warm, bathed in golden afternoon light filtering through sheer curtains.

Alex leans against the doorframe, watching me with a slow, knowing smirk. “So,” he murmurs, “am I finally getting my birthday present?”

I glance at the blue box sitting on the bed. But I have a feeling he means something else entirely.

“Only if you’re a good boy.” I press my lips to his gently, before pulling away and grabbing the box. I hand it to him, my heart thudding. “I hope you like it.”

He opens the lid, brow arching with curiosity. Inside, a card: For all the moments we’ll have together—Happy Birthday. Beneath it, a vintage Leica M6 camera.

His breath catches. “You found one,” he whispers, eyes wide.

“Do you like it?”

“Elena…I love it. Thank you.”

Setting the box down, he lifts the camera and turns it over in his hands, opening it to see that it’s already been loaded with film. He smiles again. Then snaps a picture of me.

I laugh. “Alex!”

He grins, setting the camera aside and pushing me gently onto the bed, tickling me as I squeal. Hovering over me, he presses a soft kiss to my lips.

“There’s one more gift,” I murmur, nerves coiling tight in my stomach.

His brow arches, but a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “Oh, yeah?”

The air between us thickens. I breathe him in, sliding my hands down his chest before gently pulling him up and off the bed. He follows as I guide him toward the oversized armchair by the window.

I push him and he drops into it with a lazy sprawl, legs spread wide, arms resting on the armrests like he owns the world.

“Bossy today, huh?” he teases, though his eyes have darkened, heat simmering in them.

“You could say that.” I smile faintly and lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before sinking to my knees between his legs.

His gaze sharpens, watching me with a hunger that makes my pulse race.

Running my hands slowly up his thighs, I feel the muscles flex under my touch, relishing the way his breath catches.

I want to see him fall apart.

But then?—

I hesitate.

Because the truth is, I’m not exactly sure what I’m doing. I know the general concept, thoughts of late-night research making me blush, but I’ve never actually?—

Alex leans forward slightly, brushing my hair back.

“You’ve never done this before?” he murmurs, his voice softer now, searching my eyes.

I shake my head.

He exhales slowly, his thumb dragging over my bottom lip, eyes locked on mine. “So innocent,” he teases.

“Teach me how to please you,” I whisper, breathless.

His eyes darken further, something primal flashing through them. “Unbutton my pants,” he instructs, voice rough.

I obey, my fingers working to open the button, then the zipper, revealing the black fabric of his briefs beneath.

“Take them off,” he says, watching me like a predator fixed on his prey.

My lips part, hands trembling slightly as I slide both his pants and underwear down, he lifts his hips as I pull them off completely.

Oh.

I freeze.

I knew what to expect, but last time I touched him, it had been in the dark. Seeing it in real life, in the light—hard, thick, veiny, standing against his body—is…

Intimidating.