Crushed (Collided Book 2)

by Portia Moore

  She freezes in place, looking completely astonished. “And it’s Alex’s?” she asks, her voice hushed.

  I glare at her, my anger flaring all over again. “Of course it is,” I tell her coldly. “I would never cheat on him. I told you…”

  “I know, I know,” she mutters. “So I’m the bad guy in all of this.”

  “Alyssa, I know you were embarrassed, and your feelings were hurt with Jackson,” I say soothingly, trying to calm her down. “Rejection always stings, especially when you put yourself out there like that. But blackmail isn’t going to make him want you. And do you really think that money will make you happy, knowing how you got it? And if you tell, can you live with having ruined your relationship with your brother? Knowing his father is getting a divorce because of you?”

  “He’d be getting a divorce because he fucking cheated,” she snaps back.

  “But he’s tried to make amends. He fucked up, sure,” I tell her. “But that doesn’t mean Alex should be punished for it.”

  She looks away, drumming her fingernails on the seat of the couch. When she looks back at me, her eyes flick down to my stomach and back up to my face. “You’re really having a baby?”

  “I am,” I confirm. “I haven’t told Alex yet,” I add quickly. “But I’m going to, I just want to wait for a good time. It’s going to be a big shock. And I want it to be special when I tell him about it.”

  “So I’m going to have a little niece or nephew?”

  “You are,” I say calmly, hopefully. “I know that we’re wrong, for not telling Alex, I’ll have to live with that every day and I promise you it’s not easy. Just, please…”I trail off and the room is deadly quiet.

  “I was angry…” Alyssa says quietly, her frown softening a tad.

  “I get it. Just, please think about it,” I plead to her. She touches my stomach and a small smile spreads across her face.

  “I won’t say anything. I swear. She looks up at me, her face suddenly earnest. “I won’t blackmail him. I didn’t really want to hurt anyone…I thought maybe you had been cheating on Alex with Jackson, but I see how you guys are together. I didn’t want to, but I believe you…”

  “Thank you,” I say, the relief evident in my voice.

  “I’ve made mistakes, too,” Alyssa says, her voice small. “My friend in college…and I shouldn’t have gone after Jackson.”

  “It’s in the past,” I tell her.

  I hope that that’s the truth, even as I say it to Alyssa. Because I have to believe that I can learn from my mistake with Jackson, and move on. That we can move on, Alex and I.

  Otherwise, I don’t know what hope we have.

  23

  My anxiety is at an all-time high the night of our anniversary, and I hate it. I want to enjoy tonight, to have it be our last normal, happy night before I drop the bomb on Alex that’s this baby. But I don’t know how to get it out of my head.

  When did it happen? I wonder as I get ready, blow-drying then straightening my hair. Was it that afternoon when I came home from my first day at the office and we made love on the couch? Was it the half-awake, silent quickie at his parents’ house? Which one of the numerous times that we’ve had sex in the last month made a baby?

  How am I going to make an excuse not to drink tonight? I always drink when we go out—it’s become something of an inside joke for me to order something off of the menu and then he comes up with the ways that he would make it “better.” Sometimes they’re actually good ideas, other times they’re awful, like adding chili pepper to a margarita. I’m going to have to think of something.

  I have to tell him soon, I think. I don’t want to lie to him. They’ll pile up before long, and add to the weight of the one massive lie hanging over my head all of the time. It’ll poison our relationship, if it goes on too long. And then what happens? We break up, and I’m a single mother? Seeing Alex on the weekends, longing for him every time I hand over the child we were supposed to raise together?

  I quickly put on jeans and a lavender silk top—Alex said not to dress up too much, which makes me curious about where we’re going. I carefully do my makeup, and then manage a decent purple smoky eye. My eyeliner is just about even on both sides, which is the best thing that’s happened to me so far this week. I slip in my pearl earrings and add rose-colored lip stain, and look at myself in the mirror.

  There’s nothing unusual about my appearance. I look just like I always do, not as if I’m carrying an explosive secret literally inside of myself.

  I get a text from Alex just then, nearly making me jump out of my skin. Meet me at our place, it says, with a heart and a smiley face afterwards.

  A smile spreads over my face as I grab my purse and hurry out of the apartment towards the subway stop near where we live. Of course he would pick something like that. I feel warm and happy just thinking about it, that night when he ordered literally everything on the menu and a margarita the size of my head.

  Margarita. The thought of drinking reminds me of the baby, and I sit there tapping my nails against my leg for the entire ride, staring out of the window at the buildings and people passing by. For the first time in a very long time, I’m nervous about seeing Alex.

  Some of that tension leaves me as the cab pulls up in front of the small restaurant, and I get out. I still feel overdressed for this, but I don’t care. This choice is better, to me, than any five-star restaurant. It’s thoughtful, and romantic, and all of the things that I love about Alex.

  I’ve never been so glad to be able to call someone mine. The feeling that washes over me just reaffirms how much I love him, how much I want to be with him. Forever.

  When I step into the diner, I see that he’s wearing the charcoal-colored button-down I love on him, and tight black trousers, and he’s put some product in his hair so that it looks sleek and ever-so-slightly wavy.

  He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, and I can’t believe he’s mine.

  I melt into him as he presses his mouth against mine, leaning against his hard, muscular frame. For a moment I don’t think about anything other than how good it feels when he kisses me, how solid and safe he feels. With him, I can figure anything out. Everything will be okay. I can convince myself of that in the moment—that nothing will matter. Not Jackson, or the baby, or Alyssa, or the secrets I have. Nothing matters except for us, and how much we love each other. Orlando, the owner, makes his way over to us and it brings a big smile to my face.

  “My favorite girl!” he says before I stand and hug him.

  “It’s so good to see you,” I tell him genuinely.

  “You look stunning,” he says with his thick accent.

  “Doesn’t she?” Alex says with a gleeful grin.

  “And there is a glow about you Senorita!” he exclaims and my stomach dips. I watch him as his eyes drop to my stomach and a curious brow arches. I look over at Alex who thank God probably isn’t picking up on what Orlando has. I remember Orlando said that he has nine kids, and I wonder how on earth I’m going to ask for a non-alcoholic drink without him saying something about it.

  “Will it be the usual?” he asks Alex and his eyes dart to mine, lit up with mischief and glee.

  “I think so, the special usual,” Alex tells him as if hiding a secret and Orlando laughs.

  “Can I start you with fish bowls to drink?” he says excitedly.

  “Sounds good!” Alex says and I clear my throat.

  “I’m not feeling that great…I’ll have a 7UP.” Alex immediately frowns.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, concern littering his features.

  “Yeah I’m fine, my stomach just has been a little crazy since I ate some of the food from the potluck at work earlier,” I tell him quickly and Orlando eyes me knowingly.

  “How about I make you a special drink, just for you?” Orlando suggests. Our eyes lock and he tilts his chin a bit. I nod and he gives me a wink before he goes. Alex pulls my hand across the table and squeezes it.

&nbs
p; “You okay babe?” he asks, and I feel terrible for making him think something is wrong.

  “Yeah, I promise,” I tell him, leaning across the table and giving him a soft kiss on the lips.

  “Don’t worry, you drink up because I plan on taking such advantage of you tonight,” I tell him with a grin.

  “Oh, I was counting on it,” he says. He pulls my feet on his lap and begins to massage them and it’s the best thing I’ve felt in a while. Before long Oliver is back with our drinks. He gives Alex his fishbowl and me a smaller one. My heart sinks as I look at it, hoping it isn’t just vodka instead of tequila, and I take a sip but am ecstatic when I don’t taste either. It is a completely virgin cocktail.

  “I love it. Thank you Oliver!” I exclaim and he taps my shoulder playfully. Not long after, the food comes out and we tear into it. It’s all delicious, and I’m glad my nausea seems to have receded. Maybe the baby likes Mexican food. I guess it’d have to if it’s me and Alex’s child.

  As dinner progresses I notice that Alex is starting to act weird. He keeps his attention on his phone, keeps glancing around the restaurant, fidgeting in his seat, and I feel my stomach knot. I don’t know what’s going on with him. Has Jackson said something to him or Alyssa?

  My heart is starting to hammer against my chest. Is he just going through the motions until he can confront me?

  Something is wrong, I know it. My food has turned to sawdust in my mouth. He’s about to break up with me, break my heart, humiliate me at the restaurant where everything started for us. It’s almost poetic that it will be where everything will end—and I’ll deserve it, after lying to him. He’s getting out of the booth and I prepare myself for him to start yelling, asking how I could have done this to him. But before I can say or do anything he’s on one knee in front of me, a black velvet box in his hand.

  “Oh shit!” I mutter, but his expression just reveals a corner of a smile.

  “Madison,” he begins.

  I can’t breathe! “I’ve loved you since the moment I brought you here. I think I might have loved you since the first time I set eyes on you. I knew from that first night here that you were the only woman for me, and I was willing to wait a lifetime if it meant getting to be with you. You’re my partner, my best friend, and you helped me realize my dream. It was all I wanted for a while, but none of that compares to coming home and knowing you’ll be there.”

  The restaurant is quiet now, the muttering and chattering has all stopped. I see every eye in the place on me, Orlando on the other side of the restaurant watching us with a Cheshire smile.

  He opens the box, and nestled inside of it is a beautiful emerald-cut diamond, on a thin gold band with a smaller round diamond on either side. He holds it out, his face hopeful, and for a moment I’m frozen to the spot.

  I’ve forgotten about Jackson, about Alyssa, even momentarily about the baby. All I can think about is that everything I’ve ever wanted is right in front of me.

  “I want you to be my forever. I want you to be my wife. Will you…will you marry me?” he asks. The world has stopped and every ounce of stress has left my body.

  “Yes!” I say enthusiastically, tears in my eyes as I hear the restaurant fill with applause and whistles, sounds of congratulations surrounding us. Alex slides the ring onto my finger, both of us grinning like maniacs. It’s a perfect fit, and he grabs me around my waist and picks me up, turning me in a circle round and round until we’re both dizzy and giggling and crying, and then he puts his hands on either side of my face and kisses me deeply, his lips tasting like lime and salt.

  I can’t stop looking at the ring as we sit back down. Orlando brings out tres leches cake and flan, on the house, and we dig in as the ring sparkles on my finger, catching light from every angle. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I can’t believe it’s on my hand. I can’t believe I’ve said yes, that I’m getting married. The Madison who once ran away in sheer terror from the sight of an engagement ring seems a million miles away—a different girl, in a different lifetime.

  “You picked this out all by yourself?” I squeak, looking down at it for the hundredth time.

  “Believe it or not, yes,” Alex says, grinning. “I mean, I might have sent a few ring pictures to Melissa and Parker here and there, But I didn’t want any chance of the surprise getting out.” He looks down at it, and then back at me. “Are you sure you like it? If it’s not your style…” Those sly bitches! I laugh and tears come to my eyes again at how good they’ve been at not saying anything.

  “I love it,” I tell him firmly, and I absolutely mean it. I can’t imagine wanting anything else. It’s the most beautiful piece of jewelry I’ve ever seen. “I love you,” I tell him as I slide into the booth next to him, holding on to him for dear life.

  I’m floating on cloud nine as we head back to the apartment, Alex’s hand firmly entwined with mine, the diamond shining on my left hand. Every bad thing, everything I’ve worried about, seems like a distant dream. Like it doesn’t matter anymore.

  The moment we’re inside he grabs me and kisses me deeply, pressing me up against the wall as his hands go to my waist, pulling me against him. He’s hard already, his mouth devouring mine passionately as he pins me to the wall, one hand sliding up to my breast, thumb caressing my nipple through the thin fabric of my shirt and the lace of my bra.

  “Alyssa’s not home?” he gasps as he pulls back slightly, his lips still a breath from mine.

  “I don’t know.” I’m breathless from him pushing me up against the wall, from the display of sheer need. I’ve never had anyone want me the way Alex does and I want him too, just as badly. I’m aching for him to touch me everywhere, for the sensation of him inside of me.

  “Bedroom,” he manages, and then he sweeps me up into his arms, carrying me down the hall. He sets me down in front of the bed and yanks my shirt up over my head, tossing it aside and revealing the black lace bra I’d worn under it for our date. I reach for his shirt, nearly popping the buttons off of it in my haste to undo it, and I leave it hanging open, framing his muscular chest as I reach for his belt buckle. Slow, romantic lovemaking can wait, I think as I fumble with it. I want him now, and I can see from the look in his eyes that he feels the same way.

  I have his pants halfway open when he lifts me by the waist again and lays me back down on the bed, shoving his jeans the rest of the way off as he leans over me. I can feel him, hard and hot and throbbing against the thin lace between my legs as he kisses me, his tongue sliding into my mouth. He tastes sweet, like caramel and cake, and I gasp as he sucks my lower lip between his, his hips rocking against me as he groans.

  My whole body is aching for him; it’s not going to take much to push me over the edge. I arch my hips up, writhing against him, the lace of my panties rubbing against my clit in a way that drives me insane. I’m on the brink, so close…I moan, my breath warm against his ear as I squirm against him. “Alex, please…” I whisper, and I hear his deep, throaty chuckle.

  He reaches down, pushes my panties aside so that the tip of him is pressing against me, and then he begins to slide inside of me, inch by throbbing inch. He grasps my wrists and pins them over my head, holding me in place as he slides into me with torturous slowness, his eyes fixed on mine, entirely in control of both my pleasure and his.

  “I love you,” he whispers into my ear, his body trembling as he fights to control it, to not immediately thrust into me.

  “I love you too.” I press my forehead against his, tipping my chin up to kiss him.

  It’s excruciating and exhilarating all at once, romantic and passionate. The minute his cock starts to slide into me, I feel the first tremors of my climax start to wash over me, my body trembling as he fills me. When he’s fully inside of me he stops for a second, looking into my eyes as he holds me beneath him, and then he begins to thrust.

  The first one sends me over the edge. I writhe beneath him, ecstasy washing over my every nerve as my back arches and I grind
my hips against him, wanting all of him as deeply inside of me as he can go. He holds onto me, keeping a steady rhythm that sends wave after wave of sensation through me even after the orgasm has passed. I wonder if this is what pregnant sex will be like. I’m so sensitive I feel like I can come a dozen times.

  He bends his head and whispers, “I’m not going to last long,” into my ear, and the shudders in his body tell me exactly that. He groans, kissing me deeply, and lets go of my wrists.

  I cling to him as he begins to thrust harder, picking up pace, and lose myself in the feeling of him atop me, inside of me, all around me, his hands and mouth all over me. I feel his body tremble, hear him groan, and something washes over me again, another orgasm or just the intense feeling of being connected to him, both physically and in some much deeper way, an intimacy that I’ve never experienced with any other person. I feel him coming, feel him rock-hard, hot and thick inside of me, his hands buried in my hair as he groans my name against my mouth, and for a moment there’s nothing in the world but the two of us, locked together in an endless swirl of pleasure.

  It’s long after we’ve pried ourselves apart and are laying curled together in bed, his soft snores punctuating the air, that I think about the baby again—our baby. I lay my hand on the slight concavity of my stomach, running my fingers from hipbone to hipbone, and try to imagine my body months in the future.

  It’s impossible to think of. I slide my left hand out from under the covers and look at the diamond there sparkling in the dim light that’s coming through the windows.

  I’m getting fucking married!

  24

  The first thing I do the next morning is call Parker. I am itching to tell someone and if I can’t tell Mel the obvious choice is Parker.

  “Can you meet me for lunch?” I ask, my voice slightly shaky with excitement. “I have to tell you something.”

  “Good news?” she asks cautiously.