6. Run Away With Me #3
“You were a star tonight, babe,” she whispers against my ear. Then, pulling back just enough to smirk, she tilts her head toward Broderick. “I think someone wants to talk to you.
“Alright, I got booty call with a hunk-a-spunk…don’t wait up,” she says waving as she walks out.
And then—it’s just us.
The space feels quieter now, emptied of bodies but heavy with unspoken things.
Broderick leans against the railing of the viewing balcony, watching the crew dismantle the world we just lived in.
His hands buried in his pockets, shoulders loose—but there’s a quiet tension in him, waiting for permission to move.
I step closer, standing beside him, close enough that a single inch would have our arms touching again.
We both watch as stagehands unplug the lights, shadows swallowing sections of the arena.
“That was something,” he murmurs.
“It was,” I breathe, glancing up at him.
He looks down at me, his gaze heavier than before, something swirling beneath the surface.
Then he steps closer, tucking my hair behind my ear. “I’ve never seen you like that.”
My breath stills in my lungs.
“Like what?”
His mouth lifts in a small, soft smile, dimples teasing at the edges. “So carefree. So confident. It was…” he pauses, weighing the next words, “sexy as hell.”
Heat floods my cheeks. My heart stumbles before pounding against my ribs like it’s trying to escape.
He thinks I’m sexy?
“How are you going with everything? You know…after him?” he asks.
The question catches me off guard. I didn’t expect him to ask—not when he’s never liked Alex much.
“I’m okay, I guess. The tour’s a good distraction.”
But even as I say it, the earlier thought sneaks back in—one that makes my stomach flutter.
Maybe he could be a good distraction?
The realization sends heat crawling up my spine. What is wrong with me? I shove the thought down, but it refuses, etching itself permanently in my mind.
“Work’s always a good distraction—for me too,” he says with a soft shrug. But his voice sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of that.
“What exactly are you distracting yourself from?” I tease.
Broderick holds my gaze, saying nothing—but his eyes give him away.
Me.
The silence between us hums—wound tight with everything unsaid.
I force myself to focus on the crew, but I can’t.
“Broderick about the other night,” I murmur, catching my lip between my teeth.
One brow arches, patient as ever, though something darker flickers in his eyes.
I steady my breath. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about…”
The urges Alex awakened—then snuffed out—bubbles to the surface: the need to be touched, to be wanted, to have someone drive me wild. The ache. The longing to not feel so…lonely.
“What is it, El? Ask me anything.”
“The other night…in your office.”
It’s like I lit a fuse. His eyes sparkle, the corners of his mouth curving slowly. He knows exactly what I’m talking about—the moment we almost kissed, not by accident but with every intention of stepping over that line we’d drawn in the sand.
“You mean what almost happened before were interrupted?” His voice is raspy.
I nod, because it’s all I can manage.
“Do you want me to kiss you, Elena?”
His hand finds my face, thumb tracing the line of my jaw. The soft drag of skin against skin and I melt. My breath catches, and the sound I make is embarrassingly close to a whimper.
I wet my lips, my pulse thudding in my ears. A mixture of nerves and desire course through me.
“I…” The yes hovers, desperate to escape—but it lodges in my throat.
Broderick regards me for a moment, eyes searching mine—green melting into blue. His other hand lifts, cupping the nape of my neck.
He pulls me close. So close I can feel the warmth I’ve come to adore about him, seeping into me.
My hands snake around his body, feeling the firmness of his torso. Thoughts of him in the kitchen at the Montgomery estate come rushing back—how his body might feel on top of mine.
I stand on my tiptoes as he leans down, the whisper of his breath against my lips.
“There you are, ma’am.”
The voice of my security detail slicing between us.
For fuck’s sake.
Broderick clears his throat, and I drop down on my heels, deflated. The moment—ruined.
Again.
“I’ll be out in a minute, Chris,” I hiss through clenched teeth.
Broderick runs a hand through his hair—in disbelief? Frustration, maybe? I’m not sure.
“Sorry about that,” I say, shaking my head.
“El…”
When he looks at me, there’s something pained in his eyes. Shit. Maybe he regrets it—every insecurity clawing its way to the surface.
Maybe we shouldn’t.
What if this is the universe’s way of telling me it’s a bad idea?
Stopping me from ruining everything. From making another mistake. From breaking whatever fragile thing we’re building between us.
Right now, it’s just a friendship. A beginning.
And I don’t know if I’m ready to risk that.
I shake my head, breaking eye contact, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt.
“It’s good—we’re good right?” I ask, forcing a smile I don’t quite feel.
“We’re good.”
Broderick watches me for a long beat, jaw tense, like he’s biting back the urge to push. But he doesn’t.
“Okay, I’ll talk to you later.”
I walk out, feeling like a fool.