Don't Fall by Meg Becker

Author:Meg Becker [Becker, Meg]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-06-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter twenty-six

Mackenzie

Paint fumes and beer were going to my head, creating a fuzzy filter over the room. I wasn’t surprised Bryson was able to convince me so easily to help him paint, especially when he reminded me I had picked the color. It’s only fair that you help me paint it.

“When you told me you wanted me to help paint, I didn’t realize you meant do it for you,” I said, dipping the rolling brush into the paint tray and looking at Bryson leaning against the counter.

He ran his hand over his beard and laughed. “You’re distracting.”

“I’m too distracting?” I raised my eyebrow, looking down at my worn yoga pants and tank top I had gotten in college. It was basically a shred of fabric these days, but I figured I wouldn’t be too upset if it got paint on it.

Bryson rounded the bar, closing the distance between us. “So distracting.” He eyed me, his gaze lingering on my exposed cleavage before looking from my lips to my eyes. He reached for the roller in my hand and pulled me towards him.

When he dropped it in the tray, white paint splattered onto my pants and tank top. The paint that landed on my arms smeared when I tried to wipe the drops away, and I imagined the drops on my forehead did the same thing. Bryson smiled, then laughed when I scowled at him.

“Is this funny to you?” I asked, resting my hands on my hips and popping my knee out. I wanted to look intimidating, and I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from giggling.

“Hilarious.” He didn’t laugh, though. Bryson pulled my body to his, his eyes darkening when they met mine.

My breath hitched. “It’s not fair,” I said, swallowing.

“Oh?”

“You didn’t get any paint on you,” I giggled, reaching towards the tray full of paint. Dipping my fingers in it, I didn’t pull my stare from his.

He raised his brow when he saw my paint-covered fingers. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

Giggling, I brushed my fingers across his cheek, leaving a smudge of paint. His eyes flared, and my stomach fluttered. “Oops,” I said with a grin.

Bryson quickly let go of me, moving towards the paint. My heart started pounding in my chest, and when he smiled, the paint stretched on his cheek. “You better run, sweetheart,” he said, dipping the palm of his right hand and all his fingers in the paint.

Backing away from him, I took deep breaths to try and calm my heart rate. “You wouldn’t…”

“Wouldn’t I?” He smirked. “You can run. Just don’t get caught.”

Without another word, he stepped toward me, reaching out with his paint-covered hand. My shriek bounced of the ceiling and walls, and I half-tripped over the plastic cover on the ground when I turned to run. “Brys!” I screamed, turning around the bar, hiding behind the shelves.

He didn’t stop, taking long strides to catch up with me. I leaped over the pile of leftover wood planks on the other side of the bar, sprinting down the hallway towards the back door.

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