Page 54 of Of Heartbreak and Harmony
And then I’m startled by a bright white light.
Callie freezes, and my eyes whip toward the flash. A server has his phone pointed at us, a look of shock on his face as he realizes the flash was on.
“Stay here,” I say to Callie, removing my hands from her body and stepping away before stalking toward the server.
The guy tries to run, but I catch him in three strides and grab the collar of his white button-down before putting my arm around his throat.
“Give it,” I growl, but he tries to fight against me.
“Get off me, man. I’ll sue you?—”
I tighten my hold. He sputters and coughs, his next threat lost on a gag.
“Give me the phone,” I repeat.
We’ve garnered the attention of a small crowd, but not a single person steps up to help this asshole. Everyone in the VIP lounge is here because they require privacy and discretion. The disgust radiating off them and toward this server is enough to make him cower, and he holdsup his phone in surrender. I snatch it and shove him away, noting him stumble and fall to the ground in my periphery.
In a matter of minutes, I have the series of photos and videos he’s taken deleted from both the phone and the cloud. Then I drop the phone onto the ground and stomp on it. Once, twice, three times, until it’s smashed beyond repair.
“What the actual fuck, man! That’s fucking illegal. That’s my fucking property.”
“It’s illegal to take unauthorized photos and videos in the VIP lounge. You work here. You know that. It’s in your employment contract.” I shove past him and head toward the manager’s office. “Congratulations, asshole. You just got yourself fired and blacklisted from every exclusive club in the country.”
Before I even speak to the manager, they fire the guy and order security to remove him from the premises. I’m apologized to profusely and reassured that nothing will be leaked to the press because all employees have to sign a non-disclosure to work the VIP lounge. I’m also offered free bottle service, but I turn it down. My only concern now is to get Callie back to the hotel and finish what we started.
I stalk back into the lounge, sweeping my gaze through the crowd. No Callie. I swallow back the panic that starts to creep up my throat and turn to Damon. He’s already checking something on his phone.
“Where is she?”
“She left. Walton took her back to the hotel.”
Fuck. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. At least Craig is with her, but I can’t seem to tamp down the anger swirling in my chest. When I open my eyes and glance back at Damon, his brow is knitted, irritation mixed with a hint of guilt.
“Don’t,” I say firmly. “This isn’t on you. The only reason I got to him before you is because he was closer to me.”
It’s the truth, and I don’t want to see Damon feeling apologetic for something that wasn’t his fault. Shit like this happens. It’s a risk we take when we go out in public, but our details have been more on edge since word of Sav’s stalker was shared with the whole team.
There’s not a chance in hell now that I’ll convince Damon to give me space again. It’s probably for the best. Finger-fucking your fakegirlfriend is decidedly less sexy when two gorilla-like men who could kill you in less than thirty seconds are watching you.
I stalk out of the club with Damon on my heels and get the car from the valet. I crank the music and gun it toward the hotel, trying like hell to cleanse my brain of tonight’s events.
But I can’t. Fuck, I can’t.
She was so close. So hot under my palms. She felt like she belonged there, pressed against me, panting for me. She felt like mine.
I clench my hands into fists, beating back the need expanding in my chest. I haven’t wanted someone like that in a long time, like I would combust if I didn’t touch her. I wanted to kiss her, and I don’t kiss. I haven’t in years. Not since Sav. Not since I fell in love with the wrong person and got my heart shattered. I don’t fuck with intimacy. I don’t blur lines. I don’t kiss, but I wanted it with Callie, and that fucks me up more than anything else.
More than the server who took our photo. More than the ass-reaming I know I’m going to get from Hammond when I get back to the hotel. More than the memories.
More than all of it.
Iwantedto kiss her, and fuck me, I still do.
My Firebird.
17
CALLIE
