Crushed (Collided Book 2)

by Portia Moore

  Not to mention the fact that for the next three days, we’ll be in close proximity with Holly, who I think might at any minute might tell Alex everything. Jackson says she and Tiffany are still very close and she wouldn’t ruin his daughter’s wedding.

  Alex comes out of the bathroom, dropping his shaving bag full of toiletries into his duffel bag. “I think we should wait to tell everyone about the engagement,” he says, looking at me as he zips up the garment bag holding his suit. “This is Tiffany’s weekend, I don’t want to upstage it with an announcement like that.”

  I look up at him quickly, forcing a smile onto my face as I fiddle with the ring, turning the diamond around my finger. “Should I take it off?” I ask reluctantly. I don’t want to, but people are bound to notice. It’s not exactly small. All I can think of, though, is that this weekend might be the last time I ever get to wear it. Once we’re back in the city…

  “I don’t want you to,” Alex says, looking down at it as he comes around the bed to put his hands on my waist, pulling me towards him for a kiss. “ After this I never want to see that off of your finger for the rest of our lives. It’ll just be until after the wedding.”

  I swallow down the lump in my throat as I slowly slide it off of my finger, walking over to my nightstand to put it back into its velvet box and carefully put it in my top drawer. The surety in his voice, the confidence that nothing will ever tear us apart makes my heart ache. “I miss it already.” I say, looking ruefully at my bare finger.

  “It’ll be back on your finger in no time. And then it’ll never come off again.” He bends to kiss me again, his soft lips against mine make their mark every time.

  Loaded down with our garment bags and our luggage, we pile our things into the car we rented and hop in, Alex putting on a playlist of our favorite songs that he compiled for the occasion. We’ve traveled together a little, but we’ve never been on a road trip—albeit a short one—and I can tell that he’s been excited for this. The car he rented is an extra nice one—a Range Rover—and as I settle down into my seat he smiles over at me as we pull out onto the highway.

  I want to enjoy the trip. Our last before everything comes out. It’s not my first choice of vacation, but it’s still a vacation with Alex, and as much as we work we can definitely use it. Still I feel tense, like a coiled spring, waiting for something to happen. Every time his phone buzzes with a text I want to scream, wondering if it’s Holly giving him the news. But no, I think. She wouldn’t text something like that. She’d want to tell him in person, so that she can see the look on his face when he finds out, be there to comfort him after. I feel myself grinding my teeth and stop.

  I look across at Alex, taking in his handsome profile as we cruise down the highway, his face happy and glowing at the prospect of going to his sister’s wedding and seeing his family, and I wonder once more if I should tell him about the baby before Jackson and I come clean. Which is better? If I tell him afterwards, especially if he’s furious and breaks up with me, it’ll be like I’m trying to trap him—a last ditch effort to keep him from leaving me. That’s not what I want our baby to be.

  I think of how we’ll feel after the wedding, still in that glow of Tiffany and Philip’s happiness. That’s the time I should tell him, I think. When things still seem bright, and good, and hopeful. At least if it all goes to shit, I’ll have that last happy memory with him. I don’t know if that will be more painful in the end, but it’s the best I’ve got.

  “You seem quiet,” Alex comments as we drive. He’s been singing along to the playlist—badly, but it’s still adorable—and he looks over at me, his brow furrowing. “Are you still feeling sick?”

  “Just tired,” I tell him. “It’s been a long week.”

  “Yeah, it has. I’m looking forward to a few days off.” He switches to the next song and frowns. “By the way, have you heard from Alyssa? She hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts, and when I asked Mom why she just picked up and went back there out of nowhere, she just said that Alyssa said she needed some space.”

  My heart stutters in my chest for a moment. “No,” I say, swallowing down the anxiety that rises up in my throat. “No, I haven’t heard anything from her.”

  “I don’t know why she’d up and leave like that. I thought she was happy living with us and she was making good money with Jackson.”

  “I just think she’s at that age. Figuring things out,” I tell him with a shrug.

  What will our baby be like, when he or she is that age? It’s crazy to think about—that the concept of a baby growing inside of me will one day be an adult Alyssa’s age.

  When we arrive at the resort where Tiffany’s wedding is being held, I’m blown away. It’s on the water, and since we arrive after dark, the entire place is glowing. We pull up in the courtyard and immediately two valets hurry out to greet us, one to take our bags and one to take Alex’s keys. They pile our bags onto a baggage trolley and hand it over to a bellboy, and Alex quickly tips both valets before gesturing for me to follow the bellboy.

  The lobby is gorgeous, done all in gold and cream, the floor marble. There’s chandeliers and ornate lamps lighting it in a warm glow, and the entire place smells of lavender. I can see the entrance to a 20s-style bar at the far end, and I feel a slight disappointment that I can’t escape there with Alex at some point on this trip.

  Our room is just as beautiful. There’s a king-sized bed in the center of the room, a four-poster with crisp white sheets, a fluffy white duvet, and mounds of thick pillows. There’s an attached bathroom with a soaking tub and shower stall as big as our entire bathroom at home, complete with five-star soaps and toiletries and bubble bath. I think back to me and Alex in the bath, and feel a warm shudder of desire wash over me. Then and there, I decide to do my best to enjoy these next few days, no matter what waits for me on the other side of them. If this might be the last bit of happiness I have with him, I want to soak up every second of it. I want to pretend as if everything between us is safe, that nothing can ever separate us or break us apart.

  I walk over to Alex and tip my chin up, looking into his eyes as I draw him closer to me for a kiss.

  There’s a fireplace in the room, too, which despite it being warm I’m itching to light, and two wing chairs in front of it, as well as a massive flat-screen television mounted on the wall. French doors lead out to a balcony, and when I walk out, I see that it overlooks the rest of the resort and the beach just beyond. “This is amazing,” I breathe as I feel Alex walk up behind me, his hands resting lightly on his waist. “Let’s get married here too?” I joke playfully.

  He laughs, dropping a kiss on top of my head. “Sure, if my dad will pay for it. But I’d rather have a smaller wedding, and pay for it ourselves. Then no one but us gets a say in how we do it.”

  I turn in his arms, leaning back against the railing as I look up at him. “I like the sound of that,” I whisper. And I do. In a perfect world, if nothing would ever change between us, I love the idea of us planning our wedding together. I love the idea of us controlling our own destiny, with no one but us ever getting a say in how we live.

  If only that could be our reality.

  He slides his hands down to my hips, bending to kiss me. “Come on,” he says softly, his breath warm against my lips. “Let’s see how soft that bed is.”

  Roughly a half an hour later, sweaty from rolling around in the very soft bed, it’s time to get ready for the rehearsal dinner. Since we’re not in the wedding itself, we don’t have to be at the rehearsal, but we’ve planned to attend the dinner afterwards. Alex rolls out of bed, giving me a good look at his muscular, naked body as he strides towards the bathroom. “Come here?” he asks, throwing me a mischievous smile over his shoulder.

  How can I say no? It turns what would’ve been a quick shower into a longer one, as Alex runs his hands over my body, spreading lavender-scented soap over my skin as he kisses my neck.

  “You’re going to get my hair wet,” I tell him.


  “So?”

  “So I had a blow-out this morning, so it would be easy to style for tonight!” I push at him playfully. He pinches one of my nipples and grins at me. “You’re insatiable,” I tell him.

  “For you? Always.”

  I wear a cream-colored dress similar to the one I wore to Tiffany’s engagement brunch, and Alex dresses in my favorite charcoal shirt and dress pants—only with the addition of a suit jacket to meet the party’s dress code. He whistles at me as I come out of the bathroom, still touching up my rose-colored lip stain. I slide a pair of pave diamond rose-gold hoops that I bought for the weekend into my ears, and Alex grins.

  I return the kiss, pushing down the intrusive thoughts that follow. Don’t think about it this weekend, I tell myself over and over. But it’s always there, hovering in the back of my mind, no matter how hard I try.

  The rehearsal dinner is held in the hotel’s restaurant, complete with a buffet spread and open bar. I don’t even know where to start with the buffet—there’s everything from filet medallions to shrimp to crab legs to scallops in a delicate butter sauce, more sides than I can take stock of, salad and clam chowder and lobster bisque. I can’t even imagine how much all of this must have cost, and I see what Alex meant about us having a smaller wedding. I put a few things on my plate, breathing in the scent of the food and waiting to see if my stomach is going to be okay. So far, so good.

  Tiffany is clearly on cloud nine—I see her floating through the room with Philip at her side, beautiful in a knee-length, sleeveless white lace dress with a sweetheart neckline. There’s a pretty teardrop-shaped aquamarine necklace around her neck, which she tells us is a wedding gift from Philip, and the look she gives him when she turns to smile at him is very much the way I look at Alex. Despite the fact that I will never understand how she can still be friends with Holly, I like Tiffany, and I’m happy to see her so happy. When Alex and I go to greet her she hugs me warmly, the awfulness at her bachelorette party clearly forgotten and forgiven. “Thank you for inviting me,” I tell her sincerely, and she gives me a bright, happy smile.

  “Of course!” she says, squeezing me again.

  Jackson is in his element as well, dressed in a fitted suit, moving from person to person and schmoozing as only he can. I can see the nervousness in his face, though, when he catches sight of me and Alex. It sends a fresh slice of anxiety through me, and Alex looks down at me with concern. “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah,” I say, glancing away from him. “Just a little cold. I should have brought my wrap.”

  “Want me to go get it?”

  I shake my head quickly. “No, that’s okay,” I tell him, looking up at him and pasting a smile on my face. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

  Cassandra is at Jackson’s elbow, dressed in a beautiful emerald green, floor-length dress that sets off her bright hair and eyes beautifully. Together they make a striking couple, and I wonder for the thousandth time why he would ever want to leave her, or cheat on her.

  Sometimes I don’t think I’ll ever understand men—or most of them, at least.

  Alex and I make our way around the room too, with him introducing me to various family friends that we run into. “Next time we see any of these people, I’ll be introducing you as my fiancée,” he whispers into my ear as he pulls me close to him, my hip brushing up against his.

  If we make it that long. I feel my stomach knot at the thought, and tears threaten to spring to my eyes. The likelihood of us ever getting to that point is slimmer and slimmer, and I fight back the tears. It’s going to be harder to get through this weekend than I realized. I thought I was prepared, but being bombarded on every side with reminders of how Alex and I may never get this happy ending is starting to wear on me. But I put on a cheerful face. I don’t want to ruin the weekend, for any of us.

  We pass by Holly in the crowd, and I feel both myself and Alex tense. My heart pounds in my chest, and I see Jackson catch sight of the three of us and go slightly pale. Alex and I both stop for a moment as people mill around us, and she smiles at me, her expression smug.

  I’m here with Alex, her deadline has passed. But I assume she’s bluffing me again, trying to make me believe that she can somehow convince Alex to believe her over me and Jackson. I just smile coolly back.

  We push our way through the crowd of people, and I don’t look at him until we’re on the other side of it. We almost immediately run into Jackson and Cassandra, and Alex gives his dad a quick hug, smiling at him. “Hell of a party, Dad,” he tells him, grinning. “Throw one like this for me and Madison?”

  “Of course, Son,” Jackson says with a smile but he doesn’t quite meet Alex’s eyes. Keep it together, I think, but I don’t have much room to talk. I’ve been on the verge of a breakdown since we left. I was starting to feel better in the hotel room.

  “Does he seem off to you?” Alex asks me as Jackson makes his excuses and walks off through the crowd with Cassandra. “Actually a lot of people feel off lately. This stuff with Alyssa…and you’ve been anxious, too.” He laughs.

  “Weddings are stressful,” I tell him, trying to force some brightness into my voice. “I’m sure Jackson is just worried about it all going off without a hitch. After all, anytime family gets together there’s the opportunity for drama. And I’m sure a lot of people aren’t happy that Holly is here.”

  “I think I’ve had enough of this for one night,” Alex murmurs, his eyes lighting on Holly as she makes her way from person to person. “What do you say we go back up to the room?”

  “I like that idea.” I plant a soft kiss on his lips, and twine my fingers through his as we walk out to the elevator.

  It doesn’t take us long to fall into bed once we’re back in our room. We’ve hardly walked into the door before Alex turns me towards him and grasps my waist, bending his head to kiss me deeply as he reaches for the zipper of my dress. He draws it down slowly, the silky material that clings to my hips and waist and breasts sliding down my body. I hear his slight gasp as he sees the pale pink silk-and-lace bra and matching panties I have on underneath, and then we’re on the bed, him pulling me astride him as I lean over to kiss him.

  There’s something in his kiss, his touch, a sense of desperation that makes me think he really has picked up on something wrong. He doesn’t know what it is yet, of course, and I ache to think of what’s ahead of us. No matter how it turns out in the end, we will never be the same. He will never love me so innocently again. There will always be the ghost of my past, of the things I’ve done, haunting us forever.

  That desperation leaks into my kisses, too, in the way I run my hands over his chest and clutch his face in my hands, my tongue sliding into his mouth to tangle with his. The number of these kisses, these caresses, is finite now, and I want as many of them as I can have, before everything changes.

  I’m acutely aware of my body, of every inch of it, from the flatness of my stomach to the curve of my hips, the swell of my breasts to the muscles in my thighs as I grind my hips down against him, stripping him naked slowly and kissing every inch of him before I guide him into me. I sway atop him as he reaches up to caress my breasts, my waist, reaching up to pull me down to him so that he can kiss me, his moans vibrating against my lips. I feel him even harder inside of me as his hips thrust up to meet mine, and I open my eyes to look down at him as I arch my back, taking him as deeply inside of me as I can. I want this forever. I want to remember it forever. That same rush of intimacy that I felt the night he proposed to me washes over me again, making me feel breathless with love. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love him, and as he rolls me onto my back, leaning over me with flushed skin and bright eyes, whispering, “You’re everything I ever wanted,” into my ear as he thrusts into me, I know he feels the same way.

  I push every other thought out of my head and cling to that, the solid knowledge of our love for each other, like a raft in the ocean. It might be the only thing that saves us. Sinking into the soft bed, cocooned
in silky sheets, we make love for what feels like hours and seconds all at once, until I feel him stiffen and cry out, and I feel my own climax, clinging to him as we both come at the same time, our bodies locked together in waves of what feels like endless pleasure.

  He stays atop me for a long moment, his body still locked with mine, and as he rolls off of me gasping, I look over at him and try to memorize that image: him sweaty and breathtakingly handsome, his face slack with satisfied desire, filled with the kind of joy that only comes from intimacy with the person you love most in the world.

  I think ahead to the wedding the next day, and the night that will follow—when I’ll finally tell Alex the news I’ve been carrying around with me for two weeks now. I touch my stomach softly and try to picture happiness on his face, the smile that I love so much when I tell him that we’re going to be a family.

  And I hope, more desperately than I’ve ever hoped for anything, that we will be.

  26

  The wedding is at three the next afternoon. I spend nearly two hours getting ready—at least part of this is due to Alex getting in the shower with me again and distracting me.

  “If you’re going to be like this every time we go on vacation,” I tell him as I get out of the shower and towel dry, “I’m going to make sure we go on vacation more often.”

  Good luck with that.

  “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he says, smiling cheekily at me as he walks naked out of the shower, making sure to give me a good look at his muscular ass as he walks away.

  I slip into the floor-length, navy blue chiffon dress with a sweetheart neckline and slightly off-the-shoulder sleeves that I picked out, twist my hair up into a chignon at the back of my head, and secure it with pins and hairspray. I do light makeup, shading my eyes with soft grey and applying a rose-colored lip stain. Alex is waiting for me in the bedroom. He looks incredibly handsome, in a tailored black suit that I’ve never seen him in before. He laces up his dress shoes as I slip on my high heeled pumps, and then as I straighten he pulls me into his arms, dipping his head to kiss me deeply. “I love you,” he murmurs against my lips, and I smile. He loves me.