Page 96 of The Vacation Mix-Up
It’s what’s best for him; he has a lot going on with his divorce, and I certainly don’t want to add to that. I just hope I can remain indifferent and not melt into a puddle at his feet, because… wow! He’s a phenomenal kisser.
“Great job, Fabio,” I choke out, winking as I elbow his side. “Those marshmallow jerks don’t stand a chance now.”
His eyes narrow, the skin between his brows bunching as he rubs his beard. “Y-Yeah. They’re going down.”
Relief floods my body. Thank God he’s as impassive as I’m pretending to be. “That was so embarrassing,” I add, faking a laugh. “Longest twenty seconds of my life.”
He doesn’t say anything, his eyes still narrowed as he studies my face. I look away. I have to, because if I don’t, I’ll reveal how I really feel, my fingers, lips, and toes still tingling.
Darius and Levi jump on the spot, shaking their limbs like those creepy person-shaped kites at a car dealership.
“Your twenty seconds starts now!” Paul says.
The brothers hold still, Levi asking, “You want us to kiss too?”
“Yes.” Paul gives Carlos an animated look. “It’s only fair.”
“I’m not kissing my brother.”
“Come on, Lev. Just a peck. We can do this.” Darius closes his eyes and leans forward, lips pursed.
I smirk as Levi hesitantly inches closer, pulls back, and then inches forward again.
“Nope!” he says, raising his hands. “I can’t. They win.”
Victory.
Squealing, I bounce up and down, grab Riley’s hand, and hold it up. “We did it! We won!” I say, bumping his hip with mine. “Suckers!”
“Congratulations,friends. You’re our winners of Truth or Dare.” Paul takes an envelope from Carlos and hands it to me.
I flap it about, waiting eagerly for the trophy.
“Great job, you two.” He pats my shoulder. “You may take your seats again.”
“Wait!” I frown. “Where’s the gold ship trophy?”
Paul covers the microphone with his hand. “You don’t get one. They’re for trivia, karaoke, and dance competitions.”
“But I did dance. I did the robot.”
He stares at me as if I’ve grown a second head. “Sorry, but that doesn’t count.”
Doesn’t count?My shoulders slump.What does a girl have to do to get a damn gold trophy?
“One more round of applause for our,friends,” Paul says, ushering us off the stage.
Disappointed, I follow Riley down the stairs, my legs Jell-O-like with every step to the floor. “I can’t believe we just did that,” I say, scurrying along the aisle to match his swift strides.
“You wanted to win,” he mutters.
“I did! Didn’t you?”
He stops at our row and gestures for me to take a seat. “I didn’t care either way.”
Edging past him, my stomach knots.
Is he mad about the kiss? Did he hate it? Oh my God… was I terrible?
