Page 5

“You can say that again,” she mumbled, stepping into the elevator. Charlie pushed the button for the fourth floor, dropped her purse, and tugged Hemlock down by his shirt collar to kiss him. There was always a way to get over a breakup. It was getting on the next ride. And she really wanted to get over her breakup.

The elevator made it up to the fourth floor in record time. No stops, just a straight shot up. Picking up her bag from the floor, Charlie got a peek at what her new found friend had to offer. If the bulge in his jeans told her anything, it was she’d be sore tomorrow. Either that or disappointed as hell.

Hemlock held the door open so Charlie could step out first. His lips were tingling from the kissing. It’d been a minute since he’d been with a woman, but something told him she was out to prove something. Verified when the question, “You coming?” was called out from two doors down.

“Right behind you,” he said, stepping out of the elevator. Touching his fingers to his lips, Hemlock could swear they were puffy. He then found himself clearing his suddenly scratchy throat.

Following Charlie into her suite, he felt flushed and desperately wanted to throw some water on his face. “Can I use your bathroom?”

“Sure. There’s a half bath right there.” Not looking back, Charlie pointed as she kicked off her heels.

Hemlock made quick work of getting to the bathroom. Closing the door, he flipped on the lights and screamed. “What the fuck!” His lips were red and swollen, making him look like Andrea Ivanova the woman that held the world’s record for the biggest lips. His face was splotchy, and he felt like his throat was closing up.

Fuck, he was having an allergic reaction to something. But what? He was only allergic to one thing.Cinnamon.Even the smell was a problem for him. That’s when it hit him. Charlie was wearing lip gloss.

The door to the bathroom burst open. Hemlock turned his head to stare at Charlie. He saw the shocked look on her face. “What in the hell?” she said dumbfounded.

“I think I need an ambulance.”

Charlie turned around and ran into the other room and grabbed her phone. “Yes. I need an ambulance to…” What was she supposed to say… for her hookup? “My… boyfriend is having…” She looked at Hemlock.

“An allergic reaction,” he said, clearing his throat again.

“An allergic reaction,” she repeated.

“To Cinnamon,” Hemlock added, trying to concentrate on his breathing.

“Oh shit. I kissed him and he’s allergic to cinnamon.”

“Can you tell me his symptoms?” The 911 operator asked.

“Yes, his lips are enormous.”Wow, they are so huge.“His face is red and splotchy.”Like a breakout of the worse acne ever.“And he seems to be having trouble breathing.”

“An ambulance is on its way.”

“Thank you. We’ll meet them in the lobby.” Hanging up, Charlie wrapped an arm around Hemlock and helped get him to the elevator. The entire ride down, she prayed that he’d be okay. She’d hate to go to jail because of her lip gloss. She could see the headlines… young woman kills one night stand with slippery lips.Death by lip gloss.

Charlie’s mind raced as she held Hemlock’s arm, supporting his weight while trying to stay calm. The elevator doors dinged open, and she quickly guided him out, hoping the paramedicswould be there soon. Hemlock was swaying slightly, his face still an alarming shade of red, the swelling on his lips almost comical if it weren’t so terrifying.

“Stay with me, Hemlock,” Charlie said, her voice wavering. “You’re gonna be okay. Just breathe in and out.”

Hemlock gave a weak, strangled laugh, his breath hitching. “This is not how I imagined spending my evening,” he managed to get out.

“Seriously, if you die from my lip gloss, I will never forgive myself,” Charlie muttered, half in panic, half in disbelief.

Hemlock managed a strained smile. “I’m sure your lip gloss didn’t mean to be so lethal.”

She wanted to laugh, but the anxiety bubbling in her chest was overwhelming. She reached for her phone again, dialing the lobby to make sure the paramedics had arrived. The lobby was empty except for a few guests, all blissfully unaware of the medical drama unfolding in the elevator. When the doors opened on the ground floor, Charlie saw a couple of paramedics pushing a gurney toward them.

“Thank God,” she exhaled in relief, stepping aside to let them through.

The paramedics quickly took over, one checking Hemlock’s airways, the other preparing an EpiPen. Hemlock was still trying to joke through it, though his voice was hoarse.

“Guess I shouldn’t have tried to be the adventurous type,” he muttered, his eyes half-lidded from the swelling.

Charlie shot him a look. “Not funny. I could have killed you.”

Hemlock’s lips twitched upward despite his discomfort. “I think the only thing that’s in danger of killing me right now is the air.”