One he absolutely could not indulge.
It was just a side effect of playing pretend. Of course, he wanted to touch her, to simulate the intimacy they were trying to convince everyone they shared. It was natural. Like actors who fall in love with their co-stars.
He caught her eye, but he couldn’t read the look there, and his skin burned under her gaze. It was so much like the way she’d looked at him that night six years ago—the last time he’d had this insane need to taste her lips.
“Oh! It’s cold!” Liv’s delighted laugh broke through Noah’s hazy thoughts. His sister took another bite of her soup, and the rest of their party followed suit. “What did you say this was called again?”
“Vichyssoise,” Jamie said.
“That’s a fancy word for cold soup,” Daemon replied.
“You never did appreciate good food,” Jamie said.
“I appreciatehotfood,” his brother shot back.
“Is there shellfish in this?” Callie asked, her hand tightening around Noah’s, her other releasing her spoon as though it had burned her.
“Not typically,” Jamie replied, his eyes dancing, “but this is my own award-winning recipe. My secret ingredient is lobster stock.”
“Shit.” Liv dropped her spoon and was on her feet, moving towards Callie.
“Calandria, are you alright?” Mrs. Cole asked, rising from her seat.
“What’s going on?” Noah asked.
Callie coughed, like she was trying to clear her throat and couldn’t. His heart began to pound and his eyes darted between Callie and the rest of their party, now closing in on them.
“I’m fine,” Callie said, coughing again. “It’s just a little swelling.”
Shit.
“Do you have an epi-pen?” Jamie asked, pulling the contaminated bowl away from her and gesturing for one of his serving staff to take it.
Callie shook her head. “It’s never that bad. Just unpleasant.”
“You’re allergic to lobster?” Noah asked.
“Didn’t you know that?” Mrs. Cole asked him, her voice accusatory.
Fuck. Her boyfriend would have known what she was allergic to, and he damn well would have informed the server when they asked. Her boyfriend wouldn’t have allowed anything with shellfish to come within ten feet of her.
What were you supposed to do when someone was having an allergic reaction? He tried to remember. He pressed his thumb against her wrist to feel for her pulse, not that he had a clue how to check someone’s pulse, or if that was even something he should be doing in this situation.
Callie took a sip of her water. “Does anyone have any Benadryl?”
“Shouldn’t we be calling an ambulance?” Noah asked, looking around the table where everyone appeared all together far too calm given that Callie was still coughing. She needed Benadryl and she needed itnow. How long could someone cough like that with an allergic reaction before they couldn’t breathe?
“Don’t you have an epi-pen in your first aid kit?” he asked Jamie, aware of the edge of panic creeping into his tone.
“We do,” Jamie confirmed before turning his attention back to Callie, “but we only use it if it’s absolutely necessary. Callie, do you−”
“This is fucking necessary!” Noah shouted, sweat breaking out along his back. Why did no one else understand that she needed help?
“Let’s go.” Noah helped Callie to her feet.
Blood rushed in his ears, his breathing coming fast, and he couldn’t just sit there and watch her coughing and notdosomething. If she needed Benadryl, he’d get her Benadryl, the fastest way he knew how.
∞∞∞
