Page 281 of Rush

Midnight Rain

The drive back from our not-date is nothing short of torture. An hour trapped in a cage with nowhere to run, the quiet hum of the radio mocking our attempts to fill the silence. Nothing, though, could drown out the screaming inside my head, the relentless storm of guilt and confusion raging through me.

I curse myself, bitterly aware that I’d dragged him into my mess. Of course, we’d catch feelings—hell, he had them all along, that’s what made this agreement easy. And me? I’d been too consumed at fulfilling my own selfish desires.

Now, I’m hiding out at Ocean Studios, burying myself beneath the façade of artistic inspiration for my next album. The truth is far less glamorous: I’m avoiding Riley’s piercing interrogation about our evening, avoiding Broderick’s earnest gaze, and avoiding, above all, my reflection.

My fingers sink heavily onto the cool ivory of the piano, melancholic chords spilling forth, mirroring the dread pooling deep within me. How could I have been so stupid? So reckless? The guilt is acid, slowly corroding my heart.

My phone buzzes, vibrating against the piano’s polished surface.

I groan softly, already knowing who it is before I glance down.

Broderick

El, can we talk?

My stomach twists painfully.It’s against the rules. My finger hovers, hesitating, before I delete my half-hearted joke.

The agreement hasn’t mattered in a long time. Maybe it never did. Maybe I used it as an excuse to keep him at arm’s length. But Broderick, being who he is, slowly but surely burrowed himself into my heart—right beside the memory of Alex.

Elena

Okay.

Broderick

Where are you?

With trembling fingers, I type out the studio’s details. My chest tightens in anticipation, and I busy myself frantically gathering discarded coffee cups and pizza boxes, desperate to make the room—and myself—appear less pathetic.

Right on cue, the unmistakable timbre of Broderick’s voice fills the hallway outside, mingling with Luca’s.

“Riley said she hasn’t been home in a few days?” Broderick’s question is laced with concern.

He must have gone to my apartment.Shit. Riley will know now. Damn it.

“Yeah, she’s been sleeping here,” Luca casually replies.

Traitor.

Heart hammering, I dive toward the mixing console, slipping on headphones and twisting dials, desperately trying to appearabsorbed in my work. My pulse pounds against my ribs, threatening to burst free.

“Elena, Broderick’s here to see you,” Luca announces.

I pretend not to hear, concentrating fiercely on steadying my breathing, swallowing hard against the tears that sting the corners of my eyes. I twist another dial, hearing nothing but my own anxious breaths echoing in my ears.

But then, I sense him—his presence like gravity, drawing me in, anchoring me to earth when all I want is to float away into oblivion.

“We’re good here, Luc. Thanks.” Broderick’s voice is a soft dismissal.

His warm hand gently touches my shoulder, sparking electricity down my spine. “El,” he murmurs tenderly.

“Hmm?” I look up, feigning surprise through damp eyelashes. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

Broderick chuckles softly, the sound wrapping around my heart. “Don’t quit your day job. Acting definitely isn’t your forte.”

I manage a weak smile. “Damn, there goes that idea.”