Page 161 of Rush

“Brody—you’re not getting any younger. Surely you’ll want to settle down, have kids…sooner rather than later,” Andrew barrels on, oblivious to the landmine he’s just stepped on.

“That’s enough, Andrew.” Broderick’s voice is firm as he places a calming hand on my thigh.

And our agreement is holding him back from that.

The thought cuts through me unbidden.

I think I’m going to be sick.

The tension hangs in the air until Philippa cuts in, tugging Andrew toward the door with promises of packing and early flights. They gather their things, kisses on cheeks and well wishes.

And just like that, it’s quiet again.

Yet my mind is at war with what Andrew said earlier.

Broderick sinks onto the couch with a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. I hover for a second before sitting down beside him, the silence stretching between us, heavy with everything left unsaid.

“You okay?” Broderick asks, always checking in, always making sure I’m alright. Something about it tugs at me—he’s too good. Too sweet.

“Are you?”

We hold each other’s gazes for a moment.

“You still want this, right?” I ask finally.

“Yes, baby, I am—all in. I won’t be the one to end this, whatever it is between us,” he says in earnest.

“But what Andrew said?—”

“I don’t care about what he said.”

Before I can say anything further, he pulls me into him. My head rests on his chest. His warmth seeps into me, caressing my heart.

“They can have their opinions, it doesn’t matter,” he says.

I tilt my head up toward him.

“This is between us. If you need me, El—I’ll be here for as long as you’ll have me.”

Broderick’s green eyes gaze into mine, his thumb caressing my bottom lip.

Let me in.

And in that moment, I decide to—just a little.

Chapter 20

Got Me Started

The first show in Vegas was insane—a packed arena of thirty thousand people. The sound-pressure alone from the crowd cheering felt like they were wrapping their arms around me.

After the show, Ava invited me back to her suite for an after-party—and things gotprettywild. My first introduction to the rockstar life.

I spent most of this morning sleeping, before returning to her suite—for room service, massages, and what she calls a “recovery ritual”, complete with a nurse administering tailored infusions of antioxidants and anti-inflammatory agents. Apparently, they help with energy and vocal recovery.

“I’m telling you, Elena,” Ava says, lounging in a silk robe while her feet get massaged. “I can’t live without Dr. Bronte’s vitamin infusions. I’d be a husk without them. Touring, flying back and forth—you’ll notice a difference, trust me.”

“I’ll be sure to let Mark know to add it to my list of diva demands,” I say, laughing.