How to Not Fall for the Wrong Guy by Meg Easton

Author:Meg Easton [Easton, Meg]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mountain Heights Publishing
Published: 2020-07-13T16:00:00+00:00

12

Roman

The feel of Bex’s fingers on his cheek sent a thrill racing to every corner of Roman’s body. All he could think about was kissing her. She was right there, inches from him. He’d just have to bend his elbows a bit, and his lips could be on hers.

Was that what she wanted? As her fingers ran along his jawline and paused at his chin, her breath catching, her fingers tapping twice lightly, he thought maybe so.

“I finally found you!” Enoch’s face appeared under the blanket next to them, a flashlight in one hand and the video camera in the other. He let out a huge breath of air. “That wasn’t easy. I swear that mannequin was still trying to attack me.”

Now that he could see Bex’s face, he saw amusement. They both shifted to where they were on their hands and knees, and worked their way to a spot where the blankets had pulled apart and they could see light. Once they made their way out, Bex ran her hands over her hair, which was looking rather staticy from all the blankets rubbing on it, and straightened her shirt. He did the same, figuring he probably needed it as much as she did.

She surveyed the damage as Enoch panned the camera around at the destruction. With her hands on her hips and the camera on her, she said, “Well, I guess as is the outcome of all blanket forts, they eventually have to come to an end. Some a little quicker than others.” She reminded them about subscribing, getting notifications, and to not miss their next interview, and then they both said goodbye.

He bent down and picked up a blanket and started folding it. She gave him a strange look, like she hadn’t expected him to help, but then she grabbed the other side of the blanket and started folding it with him. He wasn’t about to leave this big mess to her, though. Even if his mom hadn’t taught him to always show good manners, he’d have wanted to stay and help just to be around her for longer.

She gasped. “The ice cream!”

“I’ve got this,” Enoch said, dropping the blanket he was folding, and made a show of diving into the pile of blankets. A minute later, he re-emerged holding two pints of ice cream and two spoons. “Only a little bit got on the hardwood floor—none on the cushions or the blanket.” He looked at the pints in his hand. “Are you going to still eat these?”

Bex laughed. “Consider them your reward for rescuing them.”

“Yes!”

Then the kid rushed over to Bex’s desk and started eating them at a speed that pretty much guaranteed brain freeze. Roman shook his head. Enoch might be impressively professional behind the camera, but he was still a twelve-year-old boy.

Once they got the blankets folded, the ice cream off the floor, and the furniture put back into place, Bex walked him out to his car.

“Thank you, Bex. Even with the fort crashing down on us, I quite enjoyed myself.

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