Page 42 of Collide (Collide 1)

Chapter 14: Broken

Another barking cough tore past Emily's throat, her eyes following Dillon as he rounded the taxi after closing her door. Forget the fact that Gavin was going to be there tonight, she felt like shit, and her body ached from head to toe. Gavin would only bring on a different kind of pain for her at this point. She couldn't believe she had allowed Dillon to talk her into going, but something in his unrelenting persistence and intolerant tone brooked no argument.

Already intoxicated, he haphazardly slid into the backseat and let the driver know their destination.

After digging in his pants for his wallet, he looked to Emily. "Oh, come on, babe. You've got to be feeling better by now. "

Between the smell of alcohol lingering on his breath and the nausea from medication steadily pumping through her system, she was sure she was going to throw up right there and then.

"No, Dillon, I don't feel better," she sighed, leaning her head against the window. A crowded bar was the last place she wanted to be right now. "I don't see what the big deal is if I didn't come. "

Shaking his head, he scooted over and draped his arm around her shoulder. "It's Trevor's birthday - that's the big deal. "

"I already spoke with him earlier. I told him that I'm sick and wouldn't be able to go. " After another coughing fit, she added, "He was perfectly fine with it. "

"Well, don't forget, I leave for Florida tomorrow morning for a few days. " He pulled her closer, positioning her legs across his lap. "You don't want to hang out with me before I go, do you?"

"You know that has nothing to do with it," she replied, coughing. "We could've stayed home and hung out. Plus, why the hell you want to go out tonight when your flight leaves so early is beyond me. "

He leaned into her ear and slowly smoothed his hand under her skirt, his fingers making small circles against the lace of her panties. "I can handle an early flight, babe. Let's just hope you can handle me once we get back to my place. "

Attempting to push his hand away from her, shock crossed her features. "You don't really think you're getting laid tonight, do you?" she asked, sliding away from him, amazed that he could possibly be thinking about that.

She was sick, and he knew it.

In one sweeping move, he pulled her by her arm, yanking her toward him. This time he anchored one of his legs over hers. "I know I'm getting laid tonight, Em," he breathed out, sliding his tongue across her neck as he dipped his hand back under her skirt. "I'll be gone for a few days. I need a little bit to hold me over. "

"Get off me, Dillon. You're drunk already!" She backed away, trying to ignore the driver now staring at them through the rearview mirror. Taking extra measure to make sure Dillon wouldn't come at her again, she let loose a gurgling cough in his direction, hoping the microscopic germs made their way straight into his nostrils.

Unfortunately, it didn't stop him from trying again. Fortunately, her reprieve from his drunken attempt on taking her right there in the taxi came when his phone started ringing. After pinning her with a cold look, Dillon pulled it from his pocket to take the call. Emily slid across the seat, making sure to stuff her coat and purse between them.

Letting out a sigh, she tried to ignore his conversation as he laughed with whoever was on the other end. However, she couldn't ignore the growing anxiety steadily filtering its way through her veins, knowing she was about to spend the evening in the presence of Gavin. After their last encounter, the past several weeks had been nothing short of. . . difficult for her. Though she had plunged head first into her new teaching job, apartment hunting with Dillon, and planning for the wedding, Gavin was there in the back of her thoughts like a lingering beautiful shadow - never leaving, never letting go, just there.

She was hurt and confused and reminders of him were abundant. Certain songs she knew he liked stopped her dead in her tracks when she heard them. Thoughts of him constantly distracted her from what she was doing. She'd found herself becoming unproductive in a heartbeat when he clouded her mind. Her overall disposition was overtly strained. He stimulated her emotions. . . her nerves. . . and all her senses. She may have wanted Gavin, but she knew she shouldn't have these reckless feelings for him, especially a few weeks before her wedding. She hated the fact that she felt powerless around him. That he resurrected feelings that needed to stay buried deep inside. That he made her want to take risks on him - on them. That he made her question things like her upcoming marriage to the only love she'd ever known - the only man that had ever been there for her. Gavin did this to her. She did this to her. Fate did this to her. She didn't know who or what to blame, but the one thing she did know was the whole situation was tearing her apart.

Pulling up to the sports bar on the Lower West Side, she drew in a deep breath and stepped out from the taxi into the crisp October air. It would be an understatement to say she wasn't looking forward to tonight.

Gavin saw Emily the moment she walked in. It was impossible for him not to. Even among the frenzied crowd, she shone bright, like a blazing star illuminating itself in a dark sky.

His dark sky.

The invisible wire tightened around his throat, rendering him nearly breathless. She looked incredible - clad in a black skirt, sexy knee-high boots, and a tight green sweater that enhanced every curve that God himself had graced upon her. Gavin had never known a woman so beautiful. He'd sunk himself into work the past several weeks, trying not to think of her. His intentions were to obliterate her completely from his thoughts, but the more he had tried, the more she took root in his mind.

She wasn't supposed to be there tonight - at least, that's what Trevor told him. Now, as he watched her weave through the ocean of bodies in the sports bar, it suddenly felt as though his heart was slamming its way out of his chest. His body pulsed with energy, colliding with his desire, want, and need for her. The connection and pull she extracted from him - even from the first time he'd laid eyes on her - still amazed him. In the seconds before she and Dillon approached, Gavin's voice of reason piped up, telling him to let it go and be done with her. But, as much as he wanted to listen to it, his head was already in overdrive. She was the recipient of all his pent-up emotions - for she alone stoked all his fires. She was nothing short of agonizingly addictive to him. Gavin's eyes found hers, but she looked away, essentially ignoring his very existence. After shaking hands with Dillon, Gavin watched as she walked over to Trevor.

"You made it," Trevor hooted, leaning in to hug Emily. "Feeling better, I assume?"

Backing away from him with a weak smile on her face and a cough to top it off, she answered, "No, I don't feel better, so you might not want to hug me. " Trevor smiled and pulled her into his chest despite her warning. She looked up to him. "Trevor, I'm serious. I'm as contagious as they come right now. "

He squeezed her tighter and laughed. "Em, I have enough alcohol running through me right now to kill off any fucking germs you might spread. "

Managing a laugh, she returned his hug. "Alright then, but you asked for it. " He smiled at her. "Happy birthday, big man. What's the number tonight, the big three-zero?"

"Not quite. The ripe young age of twenty-nine," he answered, snaking his arm around Fallon's waist. He flicked his eyes down to her. "And what a year it's gonna be. "

Fallon leaned up to kiss him and then looked at Emily. "I'm a lucky girl. "

"You are a lucky girl, and he's a lucky guy, too. Don't forget that," Emily smiled. "I love the new color. "

Fallon fluffed her crimson hair to the side. "Do you? I'm not used to one color at a time. "

"I do. It's becoming of you. " Emily looked around. "Where's Olivia and Tina?"

"Apparently, you're not the only one sick in Manhattan tonight," Trevor answered. "Tina didn't feel good, so Olivia took her home. "

Emily nodded and settled in a seat next to Dillon. He was ordering a few shots and steadily on his way into deeper alcohol oblivion.

"If you'll excus

e me," Trevor continued, "I'm gonna go get my sweat on with my hot lady here. "

Emily watched as Trevor and Fallon disappeared onto the dance floor.

Over the next half hour, Emily and Gavin exchanged nothing more than the occasional apprehensive glance. She listened to him and Dillon talk about baseball. The Yankees had made it into the playoffs, and game three was currently being displayed across several large flat-screen televisions throughout the bar. Their rival - go figure - was the Baltimore Orioles.

Emily had to smile at that.

Unable to numb her anxiety with alcohol because of the medication she was on, she endured the situation as best as she could - paying no attention to either man. As she accepted a glass of ice water from the bartender, her cell phone lighting up in her purse caught her attention.

Pulling it out, she noticed it was a text from a number she didn't know: I must admit. . . you play the game very well. . .

With furrowed brows, having no idea who it was, she texted back: Who is this?

After a few seconds, the reply: However. . . your "birds" have no clue how to play the game. . . so it all evens out. . .

Snapping her head up in Gavin's direction, her heart skipped a beat. Though he was perched on the opposite side of Dillon, he was in Emily's line of sight. Staring at her, his smile was wide and inhibited. She flicked her eyes in Dillon's direction. It was obvious that he was paying no mind to her or Gavin, clearly more intoxicated than when they first arrived. He was in the midst of a conversation regarding the game with another patron as they laughed and shared a few shots together.

Another incoming text vibrated her phone: Take a look at the score. . .

Nervous, she looked over at Gavin again.

Smiling, he leaned his chin in the palm of his hand and gestured to one of the televisions with his bottle of beer.

Quickly averting her eyes to the screen where it was highlighting a Yankees lead by five, she let out the breath she was holding. She looked back to him where yet another smile broke out across his face.

Emily texted back: How did you get my number?

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