My Cold Magazine Prince
I leaned forward again and tried to slow my breathing, but it came in fast little gasps.
Sophia stared at me.
“Xander... I think you’re having a panic attack.”
I snapped my head toward her and gave her a glare that could freeze glass.
“Don’t say that,” I growled.
“Okay! Okay!” she said, raising her hands. “Just... wait.”
She opened her purse and started digging like a maniac. Lipsticks, tissues, a charger, gum, a mirror, something that looked like a tiny pepper spray, and then finally, a small orange bottle.
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