Page 252 of Rush

I look out over the crowd?—

And I see them.

My tribe.

Riley champagne in one hand, waving wildly with the other. Philippa and Andrew, forehead to forehead, wrapped in each other.

My father, beside Carole. His face unreadable, but his eyes—glassier than I’ve ever seen them.

And Broderick.

A few rows back, just far enough to stay out of the chaos. Watching me with that quiet, still focus. Like I’m the only thing that exists.

And right there—under the lights, with my name echoing across Times Square and a new year breaking open around me—everything’s falling into place.

The party doesn’t stop there—as soon as I’m off the stage, our group is whisked off by my father who’s arranged for us to attend the Renaissance Hotel’s New Year’s Eve party, where the night shifts from epic to obscene.

The ballroom is packed with New York’s richest and most recognizable faces. Glittering gowns. Flashbulbs. Clinking glasses. The kind of party where secrets are traded like currency.

Broderick and I have been eye-fucking each other across the table since the moment we sat down.

Our friends might know—but I’m not about to turn it into a whole thing in front of Daddy Dearest. Not until I’ve figured out how I feel about us.

Heat passes between bites of dessert, champagne toasts and stolen glances. My skin buzzes every time his greedy eyes drags over me. The need has teeth now. It gnaws.

“I’ll be right back,” I announce casually.

Everyone nods, too caught up in their own conversations to clock the tension.

I catch Broderick’s eye and tip my chin toward a secluded corner on the other side of the room.

Then I slip away.

A few people stop me—selfies, congratulations, someone even shoves a phone in my hand to speak to their cousin in Idaho—but eventually I make it.

A dimly lit hallway. Quiet. I stand in front of the tall window, lights from below dancing in the glass. As the city below celebrates the new year.

“Come here often?” he says behind me, voice low.

I turn, smiling. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?”

“Hmm. Vaguely remember pounding into that sweet ass the last few days.”

“Broderick,” I groan, laughing as I swat his chest.

He slides his arms around my waist, pulling me in. “You were spectacular tonight,” he whispers against my ear, heat blooming along my skin.

“Thank you for coming.”

I wrap my arms around his neck, fingers slipping into his hair, nails grazing the back of his scalp. He lets out a soft groan.

“Maybe later I can makeyoucome,” he murmurs, grin lazy, sinful.

We both snort like horny teenagers.

“How about my first midnight kiss?” I ask.

“Your first?” he teases, brow lifting.