Page 112 of Rush

“Avery,” Philippa cuts in, voice firm.

I glance over—catch her eyes on mine, soft and steady.I got you.

But it doesn’t stop Sienna, her tone feather-light and fake-sweet. “Yeah, sucks about the baby mama drama.”

Thanks for the reminder bitch.

I exhale, keeping my voice even. “Pip, it’s fine. I’m off men anyway.”

“Shame,” Sienna says, smirking. “James seemed pretty eager at breakfast.”

“Ugh, James isnotgreat in that department,” Avery groans, waving her glass.

Riley perks up like a wolf catching a scent. “Small dick? Fast finisher? Jack rabbit?”

Avery’s cheeks flush instantly. She sputters into her drink.

Riley grins, ruthless. “C’mon. Don’t leave us hanging.”

She’s done it—steered the conversation away from Alex—but the damage is done. My mood sours, a creeping bitterness settling beneath my skin.

The smug glances between Sienna and Avery don’t go unnoticed. I don’t care for mean-girl antics and fake niceties—the way everything feels like a game. I stay a little longer,pretending to nibble on a raspberry tart, until Sienna makes a not-so-subtle mention of Alex’s new movie. Her smile is saccharine.

That’s my cue.

I shoot Riley a look. She catches it immediately and gives a small nod.

I excuse myself with a polite smile, mumble something about needing water, and slip back into the house. I wander aimlessly until I find a quiet room tucked just off the corridor—dark wood, high shelves, the air holding a hush like it’s been waiting to offer someone a little refuge.

The library.

And I’m not alone.

Because there he stands—drink in hand, staring out the window like a goddamn sculpture.

Broderick.

“Fancy running into you here,” I say, watching him take a slow sip.

I step into the room, the door clicking shut behind me.

“Couldn’t stay away, huh?” he teases, eyes meeting mine over the rim of his glass.

I cross my arms, arch a brow. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself,baby—this is just a happy coincidence.”

We stand there for a long second. The kind where the silence hums with everything unsaid. Tension thick enough to slice through.

Then he sets his glass down and steps toward me.

“You look…” His voice drops, gaze dragging down my body like a slow spill of heat. “Nice.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” I murmur, though my voice is already breathless.

“Will it get me here?” he asks, smirking as he backs me up to the desk.

His hands slide to my hips, lifting me onto the edge like it’s instinct. My dress hikes up as I wrap my legs around him, and I can’t remember whatbehaveeven means.

Ishouldstop him.