Spanish Crush Elena was a little embarrassed to be hunting Miguel down at work, but also secretly excited. She could picture him looking gorgeous in his bellhop uniform, his tan skin set against the crisp white cotton. She would be poised, striding up to him with the grace of a dancer. “Hello.” He’d beam. “I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon. What a wonderful surprise.” Elena, you’re hopeless, she thought.
Elena followed Jenna through the canopied front entrance and into the gleaming lobby. They stood beneath a crystal chandelier, its light bouncing off the rosy marble floor. The windows stretched up tall and arcing to graze the ceiling. The molding at the top of the ceiling looked like cake frosting. When Elena glanced over her shoulder, she felt the eyes of the concierge burning into them. She suddenly felt out of place and antsy to leave.
Elena grabbed Jenna’s hand and steered her back to the front of the lobby.
“He’s obviously not here,” she whispered, turning her head to look at Jenna. “That guy behind the desk is giving me the creeps and—” Before she could finish her sentence she felt herself smack into someone. When she turned her head, she found herself staring directly into Miguel’s eyes. They were inches from her own. For a split second she thought, If this boy ever kissed me, this is what it would feel like the moment before our lips touched….
Copyright © 2005 by Michelle Jellen. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.