The zipper on my clutch was stuck. I tugged at it once, twice, three times. Nothing. I pushed at the fabric near the zipper, wondering if it was caught. Things were about to get really bad in this auditorium if I wasn’t allowed to have something sweet to soothe my savage beast. Maybe I should use my teeth.
While I was thinking over the best way to get this thing open, Noah Douglas had reached over and taken the clutch out of my hands. He quickly and efficiently unzipped it and handed it back to me. I was so surprised by his actions that my fingers turned into Jell-O and my purse fell to the floor near my feet.
Of course.
I reached for it and heard him say, “Nice shoes, Cinderella.”
I was wearing my pink Converse high tops. I loved these shoes; they were probably my favorite things in my entire wardrobe. They didn’t really scream “Hollywood awards show,” but I’d been told (rightfully so) that Shelby and I would be on our feet for most of the night and that nobody was going to see our shoes, so I’d dressed for comfort.
Straightening back up with my clutch, I said, “Like you have room to talk.” I pointed down at his shiny black shoes. “What did you do, raid a funeral parlor?”
“I was told that these are worth several thousand dollars. I didn’t get them off a mortician.” That rare smile was back. As if I was amusing him. Which irritated me more.
“Huh. So in addition to being rude, you have bad taste and you’re easily taken advantage of. Though on the plus side, when those legions of women fall at your feet, at least they’ll be landing on some expensive shoes.”
He made a sound that suspiciously resembled a laugh, but I was too angry to try to make sense of him. So instead I ripped open the wrapper to my candy bar and realized that at some point in the day it had gotten smushed. It was in bits and pieces.
Again, of course.
I carefully lifted up a chunk, trying to get the flaking-off chocolate to land in my clutch and not on me. The rental place would charge me extra if I brought this dress back with stains on it.
“Are you eating?” That indescribable tone was back in his voice, as if he was amused but hadn’t experienced that kind of emotion recently so was rusty at expressing it.
“Yes. Did you want some?” I thought that was awfully big of me.
“No.”
“Your loss.” I got another bite of my squished and now slightly melting candy bar into my mouth. I blamed Noah Douglas for the melty part. Because him sitting there was having the same effect on my insides.
“Is that a Snickers bar? What if I had a peanut allergy?” he asked.
“Then you’d be dead and we’d both be happy?” Sucking in a deep breath, I turned to face him. “I’m so sorry. Stress and hunger are not my friends, and they make me into some kind of she-demon who says really inappropriate things. I didn’t mean what I just said. That was awful. I don’t want you to die. And if you do have a peanut allergy, I would . . . I don’t know, stop eating and hold my breath. I’d call an ambulance and I’d try to find you an EpiPen. Do you have a peanut allergy?” My pulse was pounding. He was annoying, but I didn’t want to actually hurt him. Or anyone else. I zipped my clutch back up.
His eyes twinkled at me. Like, literally sparkled with delight. “No.”
Now I was mad that I’d apologized to him when he’d obviously said it just to make me freak out and be sad about the thought of him dying. Because I would be very sad. In part because then they couldn’t film a much-needed sequel to Duel of the Fae where Aliana Morningsong goes to the Realm Beyond Realms to rescue Malec from death.
“You have chocolate on you. There.”
Noah pointed toward my neck and reached forward with his massive hand, and I actually backed up as far as I could in my seat. “Dude, don’t touch me.”
He seemed surprised by my reaction and held both hands up, like I was mugging him. A cameraman noticed the movement and turned toward us.
“Put your hands down,” I hissed as I ran my fingers along my collarbone, trying to figure out where the chocolate was. I found it, a pool of brown liquid. My skin was still flushed from interacting with Noah, and the chocolate had probably melted on contact. I didn’t know if I’d actually cleaned it off or if I’d just made the mess worse.
“Are you always like this or is it just something I’ve brought out in you?”
I glared at him as my response. And even though I didn’t want to, I asked, “Did I get it?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “More or less.”
More or less? What? Was I covered in chocolate or not? A bolt of anger pierced my gut. I really was going to end up in jail tonight for having attacked a movie star.
Ralph Ramsey, who I had completely forgotten about, finished his speech, and everyone around us gave him a standing ovation, cheering and clapping. It took me a second to get myself together enough to rise up and do the same. And I noticed again how tall Noah was, how broad and masculine. He had to be six three, six four. I was the girl who joked about being five twelve, and he made me feel like I wasn’t the tallest person in the room.
It was nice.
The lights went down, indicating a commercial break. Noah sat, and I realized my mistake. I should have squeezed past him immediately, because now I’d have to climb over him to get out. But was I supposed to leave? Shelby had told me to stay put until the original seat owner returned. And the original owner was Noah’s date. Maybe she’d made a break for it after she found out what an egomaniac he was.
I sat down, ignoring him, still wiping at my skin and hoping I hadn’t been on camera with melted chocolate all over my throat.
But it wasn’t like before, when I’d just sat here minding my own business. Now I felt this weird, awkward energy between us. I’d read once that he had social anxiety and hated making small talk. Although what we’d just been doing wouldn’t exactly qualify as small talk. More like “you suck” talk.
He cleared his throat. “So . . .” His voice trailed off, and I found that I was desperately curious to find out what he was about to say, but he got to his feet.
There was a gorgeous woman standing next to him. She had on one of those body-contouring dresses that had been made out of thin strips of white fabric. Almost like bandages. It showed off her perfect figure but also had me wondering if the national museum in Egypt knew she had escaped their exhibit.
I’d bet anything she didn’t have an emergency Snickers bar in her clutch.
“Excuse me, but you are in my seat.” She said the words through her clenched, perfect white teeth.
“I’m the seat filler. Just keeping it warm for you,” I joked, but she glared at me. I stood up and was suddenly at a loss as to what to do. If Noah had moved over into the aisle, it would have been very easy for me to get out and head backstage.
But he stayed put, standing there.
Which meant that I would be forced to brush past him to escape, and honestly? I didn’t think my shot nerves could take the sensation of full-frontal touching.
Then Barbie Mummy made the decision for me by coming into the row. I backed up as much as I could into the poor woman who had been seated on my other side, apologizing to her as I did so.
Noah’s date took her seat, shooting me a look of triumph. I could go out the other way. But then I’d have to climb over, like, twenty people, and that did not sound appealing to me.