Page 53 of Collide (The Rhapsody of Heartbeats #1)

August

W e were reluctantly up before sunrise. The children of some of Manhattan’s finest, now reduced to a mess of clammy bodies and quiet regrets.

The staff glide through the house with practiced efficiency—salty, greasy breakfast laid out across marble counters, intravenous drips humming quietly in the conservatory.

The preferred cure for too much money and not enough sense.

But not all sins get erased so easily.

The moments with Broderick still cling to me—quiet, charged, too close.

Then what followed with Alex.

My head spins thinking about it.

I’m tangled, pulled in opposite directions, and none of it feels clean.

The girls and guys have split off, each group indulging in more civilized pursuits for the day. I’m thankful for the distance.

The girls begrudgingly start with an early morning yoga session on the beach, led by Natalie.

While some of the women take it seriously, Riley spends most of the time making exaggerated poses and whispering hilarious commentary under her breath, sending me into fits of laughter.

Philippa, ever the perfectionist, shushes us repeatedly while trying to hold her warrior pose.

But I can see her quaking, trying to stave off the lingering effects of last night’s excess.

After yoga, we board the Montgomery yacht for champagne and canapés, cruising along the Hamptons coastline.

Sunhats and oversized sunglasses are practically mandatory, and the mimosa refills never stop.

It’s indulgent, glamorous, and very Philippa.

At some point, a few of the girls jump into the water, squealing as the salty waves envelop them.

Riley, of course, dares me to join, and after some coaxing, I cave, splashing into the cool ocean together, it feels good to let loose with the girls.

Meanwhile, the guys go jet skiing and deep-sea fishing, a combination that suits their rugged, adventurous energy. From the text updates Broderick sends, it seems like Andrew has been crowned ‘King of the Sea’ after catching the biggest fish, and Broderick dubs himself captain of the ship.

Alex spends the day with his own friends, who are also enjoying the weekend in the Hamptons.

By early afternoon, we’ve dried off, changed into our brightest summer outfits, and make our way to The Patio, a chic poolside bar.

The place is quintessential Hamptons—white linen curtains billow in the warm breeze, turquoise pool water shimmers under the sun, and a playlist of upbeat tropical house music sets the perfect mood.

Philippa, stunning as ever in a white sundress and a ‘Bride-to-Be’ sash, holds court at the head of the table while we sip chilled champagne and indulge in fresh seafood platters. I sit next to Riley, both of us in bold, colorful summer dresses, matching the vibrant setting around us.

I’m mid-bite into my lobster roll, half-listening to the hum of conversation around me before one of Philippa’s friends grabs my attention.

“So, Elena.” Sienna leans forward, twirling her cocktail straw with a knowing smirk. “We need to talk about Alexander.”

“You guys were all over each other last night—it was sickening in the best way,” Avery says, her face full of mischief.

Little does she know how all over each other we actually ended up being.

Natalie practically swoons. “You guys are like…a dream. How did you meet? And don’t give us the ‘mutual friends’ excuse. We need details.”

Riley stifles a laugh into her mimosa, while I take a slow sip of champagne, giving myself a moment to collect my thoughts.

“Well,” I start, setting my food down. “We met at a vintage store.”

“A vintage store?” Sienna raises a brow. “That’s so mysterious.”

“It’s kind of a long story,” I admit, remembering how our first meeting had been anything but ordinary. How we collided into each other, how I ended up in the hospital, and how he later showed up at my apartment, charming as ever, with gifts and a teasing grin.

“Did you know who he was?” Natalie asks, resting her chin in her palm.

“Not at first,” I confess, playing with the stem of my glass. “I mean, I knew he was ridiculously handsome, but I had no idea he was famous. I got to know him as just…Alex.”

A collective sigh moves around the table.

“He’s so much hotter in person,” Avery gushes. “I saw him once at a fashion event, and I swear he looked unreal. It’s not fair.”

Sienna leans in, eyes alight with curiosity. “But what’s he like? Off-camera, I mean.”

I hesitate, feeling a flicker of warmth at the thought of him. “I don’t kiss and tell.” I wink at Riley, keeper of all my secrets. She laughs under her breath, chest puffed out and proud.

There’s a round of giggles and cackles. Protests over me holding out on juicy details. Another jab about me being a tease— and fuck, do I know it .

I smile but say nothing, my thoughts momentarily drifting to Broderick last night. The contrast between them is undeniable. If Alex is a wildfire, Broderick is the heat that lingers on my skin long after. And yet, here I am, caught between being with Alex and the idea of Broderick.

Riley, sensing my shift in mood, nudges me with her shoulder. “Alright, enough of the love-life grilling,” she announces, lifting her glass. “To Philippa, and her last few weeks as a free woman!”

The table erupts in cheers, the weight of the moment dissolving into laughter.

Riley and I excuse ourselves to the ladies’ room, giggling about something stupid she said moments before. The champagne has me feeling a little lightheaded, my skin warm from the sun and the lingering high of conversation. But as we head back to the table, the air shifts.

That prickling sensation—the one you get when you’re being watched. And then, there she is.

I recognize her immediately from the panel at Geek-Fest.

Walking toward me, every inch the blonde bombshell I’ve seen in magazines, is Madison Walsh .

She’s devastatingly beautiful—the kind of woman who doesn’t just turn heads, she owns the attention in the room.

Her long, sun-kissed hair cascades in billowing waves.

Her bronzed skin glows in the afternoon light.

She’s taller than me, taller than Riley, dressed in a crisp white dress that hugs every inch of her model-length frame, her legs on full display.

She looks like she was born for this world.

And she’s not alone.

Flanked by two equally stunning women—one a statuesque brunette with box braids, the other a dirty blonde—it’s like a Hamptons fashion editorial walked off the page and straight into my reality.

I freeze. My heart lurches.

Madison smiles, slow and practiced, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Hi,” she says softly. Friendly. Controlled. Calculated.

I open my mouth. Nothing comes out.

I’ve imagined this moment before—what it would be like to meet her. But none of those scenarios included me standing here, completely frozen, purse clenched in white-knuckled fingers.

“Um…hi.” It comes out weak. Pathetic.

Madison tilts her head, studying me like I’m something under glass. “You’re Alex’s friend, right?” she asks, putting an extra beat of emphasis on friend .

Her friends snicker.

We haven’t defined our relationship yet. Definitely friends. Kind of lovers. Not nothing .

I nod, scrambling to collect myself. “Uh, yeah.” My voice is steadier this time, but my pulse is not.

Her smile widens, like she’s been saving the final blow—she lands it.

“I’m Madison,” she says, voice sticky-sweet.

“Alex’s girlfriend,” her friend with the braids cuts in, sharp as glass.

The words slice through the air.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Madison adds, smile gleaming like she hasn’t driven a stake into my chest.

For a second, all I can hear is blood rushing in my ears.

Girlfriend? Alex’s girlfriend ?

There’s no time to process it. Not before Riley scoffs—loudly—beside me.

“Bullshit,” she says, arms crossed.

That one word pulls me out of the spiral. If Madison’s his girlfriend, why the hell is Alex staying with me this weekend?

Madison’s expression flickers—for a second—before she turns her gaze to Riley, her eyes narrowing.

“Sure,” she says, like she’s humoring a child. “But this is what we do. On and off. Like a merry-go-round. I’ve been in his life for years now. We love playing this little game.”

Her friends smirk again, nodding along like backup dancers to a lie.

Something in me hardens. He told me they were done. That there was nothing left between them.

But I hadn’t asked if we were exclusive. Maybe I’m just a distraction. A convenient something before he inevitably goes back to her .

The thought churns in my mind.

Madison’s calm, confident, and practiced. She’s getting pushing my buttons, and she knows it.

I take a breath, pushing the mess of feelings down.

“I’m not sure what you’re expecting me to say,” I reply, tilting my head. “Congratulations?”

Riley lets out a sharp laugh beside me, unable to help herself.

Madison’s eyes twitch—slightly—but she recovers fast. “I thought you should know,” she says, her tone all fake innocence, “since you and Alex seem to be spending so much time together. I wouldn’t want there to be any confusion.”

I meet her gaze, squaring my shoulders. She might intimidate me, but I won't let her see it.

“Funny you should say that, considering Alex was in my bed last night,” I spit back.

Her smile falters, fingers tighten around her purse strap before she gives a small, brittle laugh, like I’m amusing.

“For now,” she adds, her voice soft but cutting. She gives me one final once-over, something flickering behind her eyes, and then turns. Her entourage falls into step beside her as they head for the bar.

I don’t breathe until she’s far enough away. My hands grip my purse like it’s the only thing anchoring me.

Riley whistles low. “Wow. That was a level of bitch I haven’t seen in a while.”

I don’t answer. My mind is spinning.

Alex said they were done.

So either he lied…

Or this is part of her game.