Page 26 of Stolen Voices
I cover my laugh with my fist. Holy hell, this woman is something else. Only in Hollywood would this be a game. “You’re diabolical.”
She holds her forefinger and thumb apart. “A little. But life’s too short. You have to enjoy the cupcakes before they’re gone.”
While I know she’s clearly talking about the sugary confection across the room, I can’t help but think it’s the perfect analogy for our situation. She’s the delicious-looking cupcake I can’t have.
But we can indulge in actual cupcakes.
“Hold that thought.” I get up from my seat, grab the box of cupcakes, and set it in front of us, lifting the lid. I’m not sure if the scent of vanilla from Callie or the cupcakes makes me dizzy, but I’m lightheaded and my heart is beating like a marching band bass drum in my chest. “Are you ready to make everyone jealous?”
“Hell yes.” Callie’s smile is bright, taking my breath away.
I pull out two cupcakes and hand her one. Her fingers graze mine as she takes the cupcake from my hand, and a bolt of energy soars through me at the contact.
Again, I ignore the overwhelming need to touch her and hold up the pastry. “To enjoying the cupcakes before they’re gone.”
Callie chuckles as she taps her cupcake to mine. “To enjoying the cupcakes.”
I follow her lead and peel off the wrapper before taking a bite. Vanilla, sugar, and another ingredient I can’t make out hit my tongue in an explosion of flavor.
“What do you think?” Callie licks the frosting off her top lip.
“That’s a damn good cupcake.”
The sweet smile on her lips hits me in the chest, making it pinch. I rub at the ache between my ribs with my fist as I finish the dessert, wondering if she’d taste as sweet as the frosting on this cupcake.
I look over at Callie and notice she’s stopped eating. Her cheeks look redder than a tomato, and her lips look puffier than their usual plumpness.
“Callie, are you okay?” I place my hand on her back.
“I’m not sure.” She clears her throat, a look of confusion on her face. “I think—”
Callie stands with a gasp, her hands clutching her throat. She takes two steps and falls to the ground, gulping for air.
I jump into action, rolling her over and brushing her hair off her swollen face. “Fuck! Callie. Are you having an allergic reaction?”
She nods frantically. “My … p-pur—”
I look around the room, searching for the purple bag she carries with her everywhere. I thought it was only for her journal, but I’m realizing it’s more than that.
Callie grips my arm and wheezes. “Booth.”
“Someone get her purse from the booth. Now!” I shout.
“You heard him,” DJ Reigns shouts. “Move your fucking asses!”
I hear shuffling and people talking, but I can’t make myself move away from Callie—not that I could with the way she’s clutching my forearm.
“Just hold on, Cal. I’m right here. I got you.”
She nods, her deep-brown eyes on mine.
I wipe the tears streaming down the side of her face away with my thumbs. “It’s going to be okay.”
Callie nods, but her fingers tighten on my arm.
“I’ve got it!” One of the nameless interns comes crashing through the door with Callie’s bag in their hand.
Grabbing her purse, I dump the contents onto the floor, rifling through her things. I find the device and read the side panel. Thank fuck for the pictures and bold letters. I flick the blue safety cap off.
