Page 57 of Rush

My breath stills in my lungs.

“Like what?”

His mouth lifts in a small, soft smile, dimples teasing at the edges. “So carefree. So confident. It was…” he pauses, weighing the next words, “sexy as hell.”

Heat floods my cheeks. My heart stumbles before pounding against my ribs like it’s trying to escape.

He thinks I’msexy?

“How are you going with everything? You know…after him?” he asks.

The question catches me off guard. I didn’t expect him to ask—not when he’s never liked Alex much.

“I’m okay, I guess. The tour’s a good distraction.”

But even as I say it, the earlier thought sneaks back in—one that makes my stomach flutter.

Maybe he could be a good distraction?

The realization sends heat crawling up my spine.What is wrong with me?I shove the thought down, but it refuses, etching itself permanently in my mind.

“Work’s always a good distraction—for me too,” he says with a soft shrug. But his voice sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of that.

“What exactly are you distracting yourself from?” I tease.

Broderick holds my gaze, saying nothing—but his eyes give him away.

Me.

The silence between us hums—wound tight with everything unsaid.

I force myself to focus on the crew, but I can’t.

“Broderick about the other night,” I murmur, catching my lip between my teeth.

One brow arches, patient as ever, though something darker flickers in his eyes.

I steady my breath. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about…”

The urges Alex awakened—then snuffed out—bubbles to the surface: the need to be touched, to be wanted, to have someone drive me wild. The ache. The longing to not feel so…lonely.

“What is it, El? Ask me anything.”

“The other night…in your office.”

It’s like I lit a fuse. His eyes sparkle, the corners of his mouth curving slowly. He knows exactly what I’m talking about—the moment we almost kissed, not by accident but with every intention of stepping over that line we’d drawn in the sand.

“You mean what almost happened before were interrupted?” His voice is raspy.

I nod, because it’s all I can manage.

“Do you want me to kiss you, Elena?”

His hand finds my face, thumb tracing the line of my jaw. The soft drag of skin against skin and I melt. My breath catches, and the sound I make is embarrassingly close to a whimper.

I wet my lips, my pulse thudding in my ears. A mixture of nerves and desire course through me.

“I…” Theyeshovers, desperate to escape—but it lodges in my throat.