Page 18 of Stolen Hearts

Her face burns hotly as she purses her lips. “I…I amnot—”

“Because jealousy comes from a place of mistrust and from feeling as if you’ve been lied to or misled, andnoneof those things apply here. Are we clear on that?”

Her eyes flash with an emotion I can’t quite place. Then she swallows as she looks away.

“Look, Callie…” I exhale, which does nothing to alleviate the tension in my jaw. “Let’s hit the reset button. You were drunk last night—”

“No, I wasn’t.”

I glare at her. “Yes, youwere. I’m giving you a parachute here. Fucking use it.”

“I was drinking,” she says pointedly. “Not drunk.”

My body stiffens as she steps toward me.

“Callie—”

“You kissed me back.”

She gasps as I grab her forearm and yank her close. I turn, my eyes scanning the gala and taking note of where every single one of our friends and family is as I lean into her.

“No, Callie, I did not.”

“You didn’t pull away.”

“I pushedyouaway.”

“Took you a hot second.”

She gasps again as my hand comes up to cup her jaw, tilting her eyes up to mine.

“You need to forget about last night, Callie. It didn’t happen. End. Of. Story.”

I drop my hand from her warm, soft skin and start to turn to leave.

“Do you not find me attractive?”

Keep walking. Just walk the fuck away.

I do not, in fact, keep walking. I stop and grit my teeth as I turn. “I find you to be twenty fucking years old, Callie,” I growl quietly.

Her throat bobs. She takes a step toward me.

“And?”

“And that’s it. You’re twenty. I’m almost thirty-three.”

“That’s your entire reason for walking away last night?”

I bark a cold laugh. “You’re joking, right?”

“I’m just saying. Look at how many guys your age are with girls my age in Hollywood.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not in Hollywood, and I’m neither famous nor a fucking predator,” I snap. “And that ishardlythe only reason, and you know it.”

“What else?”

Yeah, she’s been drinking all right.