Crushed (Collided Book 2)

by Portia Moore

  Alex’s hand tightens in mine, and I glance up at him, his expression concerned. “Are you alright?” he asks quietly. “I know this must be a lot, meeting everyone at a party like this. I didn’t know it was going to be this—you know that, right?”

  He’s worried. I’ve got to pull it together. Alex is picking up on my mood, this strange mix of sadness and anger and jealousy that’s swimming inside of me, and it’s going to ruin the day if I don’t fix it.

  “I’m fine,” I assure him. “Just hungry! And look, we’re almost there. I’m ready to eat.”

  It’s enough to convince him, and I distract myself from Jackson and Cassandra by filling my plate. Phillip proposed to Tiffany in New Orleans, so it’s all Cajun-themed food: cheesy grits, a spiced seafood omelet, mussels topped with crab, sausages in a spicy tomato broth, thick cornbread and skewered shrimp, beignets and carafes of strong coffee. One Bloody Mary won’t hurt.

  “You should have let me make your drink,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

  “My Bloody Mary isn’t too bad,” I retort, taking a sip of mine. “Pure bliss.”

  He pursues his lips skeptically and reaches for my glass, taking a quick drink. His eyes widen a little. “You trying to come for my job woman?”

  “It’s the only drink I can make,” I reassure him.

  “Well thank God for that.”

  We’re laughing again, and I feel my love for him welling up, filling my heart until it aches with it. I love this man. I love him so much, and the thought of losing him is unbearable. I’ve never had anything like this—a relationship that’s both passionate and comfortable, happy and exciting, where we’re best friends that have amazing sex. I didn’t believe it existed, and now that I know it does, I can’t ever see willingly telling him goodbye, walking away from him.

  I don’t want to break his heart. Even if he can forgive me, he’ll never be able to look at me the same way again. The thought makes the food taste like cardboard in my mouth, and I hate Jackson for this.

  There’s the sound of a fork against a glass, and it’s Jackson. He’s standing up from the table across from us, smiling broadly, enjoying the atmosphere not a care in the world nothing like a man who fucked his son’s girlfriend.

  3

  “I’d like to make a toast,” Jackson proclaims, his voice carrying through the room. “As you all know, family is the most important thing to me.”

  Sure it is, I think bitterly. So important that you fuck girls the same age as your daughter and tell them you love them. Shit. I think the drink is getting to me.

  “I’ve spent my entire life working towards one goal: to be able to give my family everything in life that I can possibly provide. Without my family, I’m nothing, the work I do and the money I have, and all of my success is meaningless. Everything I do, I do for them.”

  Cassandra is beaming up at her husband. I set my fork down, nauseous. I can’t eat another bite.

  “And now, to my great satisfaction and joy, my beautiful daughter has met a man capable of continuing to give her all of the love and comfort in life that she deserves. I’ve set a high bar for her when it comes to what she deserves from a man, and Philip has cleared that bar and more, proving over and over again there’s no one I would rather welcome into this family than my son-in-law. I’m grateful to him for taking care of my daughter, and even more so for giving me an opportunity to bring us all back together, including my son Alex. Being here in this room, surrounded by all of my family, has reminded me of what is truly important in life, and I am thrilled that there will be so many more opportunities leading up to the wedding to enjoy exactly that. Phillip, Tiffany, I wish you all the happiness in the world. Welcome to the family, Son.”

  The room erupts in applause and I clap along with them, but I’m sick to my stomach. The guilt I feel for being complicit in Jackson’s cheating and divorce was bad enough, but I know now there’s no good outcome. If I keep the secret, it’ll eat me alive inside, and I don’t know if a secret will be buried forever. It will come out eventually and he’ll hate me for hiding it. Alex will hate me ten times over for lying to him, more than he ever will for what I’ve actually done. But telling the truth will tear the family apart—Jackson’s marriage, his relationship with his son, even his relationship with Tiffany. How will she feel, knowing that her father cheated on her mother with someone her age? And Alex…

  I want to throw up, but I keep my composure. When the dancing starts Alex pulls me onto the floor, and I try to focus on the warmth of his arms around me, the love in his expression as he looks down at me and spins me around the room.

  “This hasn’t been too much has it?” He looks down at me concerned, always concerned about me. He should be concerned about me.

  His hand remains on the small of my back as we sway together to the music, his strong chest and arms holding me up; if it wasn’t for him, I’d be on the floor. “I know how weddings make you feel. I wanted you to meet my family, but if I’d known it was going to be this…” He trails off. It breaks my heart to see how much he cares, and it hurts that he knows me so well.

  “No,” I whisper, and I mean it. “I’m honored that I get to be here, Alex. That I’m here as your girlfriend, to meet—the rest of your family,” I correct myself.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my dad. It was complicated and if I told you I’d have had to tell you everything else. I wasn’t ready. And I don’t look at John as a stepdad, it’s almost an insult to call him that. I love my dad, but John was there when I was sick, when I had my first crush, for every baseball game. John raised me; it doesn’t feel right to cheapen that.” His eyes are full of sincerity and I nod.

  “I get it babe,” I tell him quietly. I get it, I just wish to God he would have been more specific.

  He gives me a relieved smile. “So, what do you think of all this?” He hesitates, and I see a question forming on his face. “You think you could ever want this?” he asks at last. “Forever…? A wedding?”

  “Are you proposing to me?” I tease lightly, almost afraid that he will say yes.

  “No.” He shakes his head. “Not yet,”, his eyes are gleaming at me, and I almost lose my breath.

  “But babe…I can see it happening for us, one day. I just want to know if you can see it too. I don’t want to get my hopes up if…”

  It’s strange, how different this conversation is, the guy wanting to know if there’s going to be a wedding one day, the girl skittish of saying yes. But the truth is, for the first time in my life, I’m not skittish about saying yes. It surprises me, how much I know I’d say yes in this second, if it wasn’t for Jackson. If not for the inevitability of that situation.

  But aside from that, I can see a forever with Alex. And it brings me a happiness I never knew I could feel.

  “Yes,” I say, laughing. “I can see it happening, Alex. And I mean, hell, now I know you’re loaded! What girl wouldn’t say yes?” I joke.

  He chuckles, twirling me and pulling me back into his arms. “My dad is loaded,” he corrects.“I’m not. As I’m sure you can tell, since I’ve been saving for the bar for so long it may not happen until I have grandkids. I just want to do it on my own.”

  I know that’s the truth, and I love him for it. “How are things going to be with your dad?” I ask hesitantly, trying to gauge the trajectory of their relationship. When he first saw Jackson, he seemed caught off guard, stiff, as if unfamiliar with one another. But as time passes it seems the ice is melting.

  Alex shrugs. “It’s strange to say but my dad didn’t feel like a dad for a while. He was more like an older best friend, or brother. I saw him on the weekends, and when I was with him, it was all fun, all the time. It was lavish and extravagant, and he spoiled the hell out of me and Tiffany, but especially me, probably to make up for not being there the rest of the time. There weren’t rules when we were together. He was a friend.” He laughs. “And then once I was in high school, all of the girls I was friends with had crushe
s on him. He was younger than all the other dads, young enough that it wasn’t disgusting to want him but old enough to be mysterious or forbidden or whatever the hell they thought. Sometimes I felt like I was competing with him for girlfriends.”

  I almost trip on Alex’s toes. “I’m sorry!” I exclaim quickly, stepping back. “A little too much champagne and vodka, I think. I shouldn’t have mixed them.”

  “Well,” Alex says, raising his eyebrows. “Don’t worry, I’ll take full advantage once we’re hom.” His hand slides further down the small of my back, brushing over the curve of my ass, and my body tingles with anticipation. He doesn’t suspect anything—but then why would he? What son would ever think that his girlfriend had had a torrid affair with his father?

  We make the rounds, saying goodbye to everyone and thanking Tiffany and Phillip for the invite. “I’ll dry clean the dress and send it back to you,” I assure Tiffany, and she shrugs. “Get it back when you can,” she says, hugging me. “You look gorgeous in it; I wouldn’t blame you if it just got ‘lost’ in your closet.” She winks at me, and we laugh together.

  Saying goodbye to Cassandra and Jackson is a study in awkwardness. I don’t look at Jackson, instead making stiff small talk with Cassandra as Jackson embraces his son again. “It was good to see you,” I hear him say. “Please don’t be a stranger, Son. I don’t want to have to wait until the rehearsal dinner to see you again.”

  He turns to me and reaches out to shake my hand. His eyes lock on mine, and I feel a chill go over my skin. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Madison,” he says, his voice so sincere that if I didn’t know better, I’d think he really meant every word. “It means a lot to me to have the family all back together.”

  I can hear the unspoken plea in his voice, and I realize that whatever Jackson’s faults, whatever things he’s done, whatever he might still want from me, he does mean the things he says about his family. I have a hell of a choice to make

  Because Jackson isn’t going to tell if I don’t.

  Cassandra hugs me, and then Alex. “It was good to see you, Alex,” she says. “I’m so glad you’re happy. And so good to meet you too, Madison.”

  “I’ll be here for all of the wedding festivities,” Alex promises. “And I’ll bring Madison with me, too. We’re excited for Tiffany and Philip.”

  Alex is more talkative than ever on the ride home, talking about the brunch and his old friends and his sister and Phillip. It’s good since it keeps me from having to say anything, because I don’t trust myself not to blurt out the secret that’s bubbling up inside of me. But I can’t shake the memory of Jackson’s face as he told us goodbye, of the look that begged me to keep quiet.

  But how can I? If Alex kept a secret like this from me, it would destroy me.

  I run to the shower as soon as we’re home. I evade Alex’s eager kisses and roaming hands, claiming that my perfume is making my skin itchy. As the hot water pours over my hair and skin, I close my eyes and tears stream down my face along with the water. My heart is pounding. It all comes back, each moment Jackson and I spent together—the memory of how I met him, the whirlwind trip to Miami, the mornings and afternoons and nights in his bed, the lavish dinners and hotels and all of those insane weeks we had before I learned the truth. “I wish I’d never gone to that event,” I whisper, but it isn’t true. If I hadn’t gone, I wouldn’t have met Jackson, and none of this would have happened—but if I hadn’t gone to Miami, I wouldn’t have met Alex. And then everything I have now wouldn’t exist. I can’t wish that away, not for anything.

  But the pain that it’s going to cause is debilitating. What I’ve done and what it’s going to do, the hurt that it’s causing me—none of that can compare to what it’s going to do to Alex, and everyone he loves. That’s so much worse than anything I could feel.

  The door creaks open and I try to quickly pull myself together as Alex steps into the bathroom and pushes the shower curtain aside.

  “I can’t wait,” he says, his voice deep and husky. He steps into the shower, gloriously nude. He’s magnificent. I want to reach out and run my hands over every inch of his naked, muscular body, down to his erection, already thick and hard and waiting for me. But I can’t let myself be the one to touch him first. I don’t deserve it.

  He reaches out and pulls me towards him, dipping his head to kiss me, and I can’t resist him. I open my mouth under the onslaught of his lips, his tongue tangling with mine as he runs his fingers through my wet hair. I gasp, arching my back as I lean into him. His erection rubs against me, my damp, skin sliding against his. I moan as his hand slides over my breast, his fingers rubbing against my hard, wet nipple.

  His other hand slides down between my legs, and he gasps against my mouth when he feels how wet I am. It has nothing to do with the shower, and he knows it. “I want you in the bed,” he murmurs, angling me so that my back is against the wall, so he can support me as his fingers start to work faster, sliding over the most sensitive part of my body. I’m panting now, unable to think about anything other than the pleasure pulsing through my body, racing over my nerves, and how no other man has been able to make me feel like this.

  Not even Jackson?

  I stiffen, and Alex moves his fingers faster. I’m about to come. Despite my muddled thoughts, I arch against his hand, my fingers tangling in his hair, curving around the back of his neck as I gasp and buck my hips, seeking out the sweet release that he’s offering me.

  He pulls his hand back at the last second, grinning wickedly. “You can’t come yet.”

  I’m nearly whimpering, on the edge and desperate for release, and it’s enough to make me forget about any reservations I have. I reach for him, wanting to wrap my fingers around his length and pull him against me, but he pushes my hand away, laughing. “Come on,” he says, stepping out of the shower, and I follow.

  He hands me a towel, drying off as quickly as he can, and I follow suit. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

  By the time I’ve dried my hair and I look up, he’s gone.

  I walk out into the bedroom and see him lying on the bed, his damp hair tousled around his face, his perfect body stretched out all for me. He crooks a finger in my direction. “Come here,” he whispers, and I go to him, drawn to him like a magnet.

  It’s not just lust that draws me to him, it’s how safe I feel with him intertwined with the desire he pulls from me.

  He grabs my waist and rolls me onto my back, stretching out above me, between my legs. His body hovers over mine and he looks down at me. He’s so close to being inside of me, the tip of him brushing between my legs, but he holds off that last little bit, teasing me until I’m desperate.

  “Please,” I whimper, wriggling my hips. “Please, babe.”

  “I want you too,” he whispers, and bends to kiss me again, slowly and lavishly, his tongue trailing over my bottom lip and sliding into my mouth, his nose and forehead brushing mine as he kisses me.

  “I love you,” he whispers against my mouth, and that’s when he moves, sliding into me with exquisite slowness, each inch parting me as he fills me up. “I love you, Madison.”

  “I love you too Alex,” I whisper as I arch up, my body taking his into mine, and I mean it. With every part of me, I mean it.

  I just hope that it’s enough.

  And I’m very afraid that it won’t be.

  The second he’s fully inside of me I come, primed from his touches in the shower and his mouth on me just seconds ago until I’m ready to explode, and all it takes is that sweet sensation of him sliding into me as deeply as he can go, his hips pressed against mine, and my head is thrown back, my mouth falling open as I cry out and arch beneath him. The pleasure washes over me in waves, hard, heavy and unrelenting. It’s better than anything I’ve ever felt. It seems to go on forever, and his hands are on me the whole time, stroking my body, touching my breasts, my nipples, my waist, so that my whole body is nothing but wonderful, glorious sensation.

  Whe
n I can think again, all I can do is watch him as he makes love to me, his handsome face, the look of desire on it, his straining, muscular body moving over mine. It’s sweet and sexy and perfect, and all I can think of is the irony that I’ve found the man I was meant to be with, and fate might keep us apart. I close my eyes and try not to think about it, try to stay in the moment. I want to remember this, the feeling of him inside of me, the familiar way he touches me, the way our kissing takes every problem I have away.

  I hear his gasp as he releases inside of me, his fingers clinging to the bedsheet as he thrusts harder, leaning down to kiss me hard and hot as I feel his body start to tremble. I lock my legs around his hips, and as I feel him let go inside of me, moaning against my lips as he comes, I burn this moment into my mind as if it will be our last.

  4

  I don’t move when Alex gets up in the morning. He has an early gig, some politician’s brunch he has to tend bar for, and he lets me sleep in. I’m so exhausted from the emotional turmoil of the day before—not to mention the sex—that I don’t even budge when he gets up. When I do get up a few hours after he leaves I find a note on the pillow next to me.

  I miss you already. Last night…You outdo yourself every time, we’ll see if you beat your record tonight.

  Love,

  Alex

  “Fuck,” I whisper, pressing my face into the pillow. I hate this! I hate that I can’t enjoy the smallest gestures from him, because all I can think about is how little I deserve it. That with a few words I could lose the one thing that matters most to me in the world.

  Even though I already know what she’s going to say, I Skype my sister Melissa, my stomach in knots at each ring. She answers looking put-together and fresh, even on a Saturday morning. Her long hair is freshly washed and curled, understated makeup on her faced, dressed in fitted skinny jeans and a loose silk top with a light navy cardigan thrown over it.