Page 36 of Rush
“Actually,hedumped me.” I shrug.
Andrew’s face drops like he fucked up.
“Seriously, Andrew?” Philippa groans, shaking her head.
Broderick, who was laughing at Riley butting into aSpice Girlsrendition, stills.
“Not cool, man,” he says sharply, giving Andrew a look that makes everyone pause.
Andrew raises his hands in mock surrender. “Kidding! I’m kidding.” He softens a little. “I’m just saying, it’s pretty shitty what he did to my little sister.”
“Aww, Andrew that’s so sweet,” Philippa coos, touching her chest.
Something about the way he says it tugs at something inside me, but I can’t help but feel annoyed he’s brought Alex up.
“Nice save,” Riley says, sarcastically .
Broderick drops into the seat beside me, his arm grazing mine as he gives a gentle nudge. I nudge him back, and he leans in just slightly.
“Ignore him,” he whispers. “You don’t need to think about that tonight.”
I breathe out, the tension easing, and give him a small, grateful smile.
As the night winds on—Riley makes us doBeyoncé;Philippa convinces Andrew to do a drunken duet, and Broderick even sings one with Riley.
He was right—he really can’t carry a tune which doesn’t stop him from giving it his all. There’s something endearing about his efforts.
I glance around my living room, soaking it in—the sound of Andrew and Riley bickering over the best karaoke song, Philippa refilling everyone’s glasses like a mother hen.
Seeing Broderick relax and actually enjoy himself, instead of checking his emails, is oddly satisfying. I’m glad for it. The man never stops working.
I take a slow sip of my wine, the air catching in my lungs—sharp and bittersweet.
Because while other parts of my life might be falling apart—Alex, the tabloids, my father—each one a mess I don’t know how to fix…
Here, in this moment, it feels like New York is finally starting to feel like home.
Because of them.
My tribe.
The family I didn’t know I could still have.
By the time everyone starts gathering their things to leave, the warmth in my chest isn’t just from the booze and the food.
“Text me when you wake up,” Philippa says, hugging me tight. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Same,” Andrew adds, kissing my cheek. “Sorry for being an ass.”
“At least you’re aware Andrew and that’s baby steps. You get a gold star,” I tease.
“Youarean ass,” Philippa mutters, tugging him toward the door.
“But I’myourass.” Andrew laughs as their voices fade into the hallway.
They’re cute in a gross kind of way.
Broderick hangs back, eyes fixed on mine, as if he’s holding onto something he’s not quite ready to let go of. The quiet intensity in his stare sends warmth trickling down my spine.
