Page 16 of Blind Attraction

“You guys should close the door, unless you want people to join in.”

She gasped.

Mitchell swore.

“Get outta here, Blake.” Mitchell stepped away, leaving her half-naked and vulnerable on the bed.

“The light was on. I thought I’d check on Alana. It’s not my damn fault you left the door open, you grumpy fucker.”

“I’m fine—”

The door slammed, startling the life out of her.

“Sorry. I didn’t think.” He huffed out a breath. “I didn’t even contemplate them waking up. I should’ve—”

“Only goes to show how sex starved you are, brother.” Blake teased through the door. “Seducing a chick who can’t even see your ugly face.”

Alana pressed her lips together, holding in the laughter that wanted to break free.

“Go fuck yourself, Blake.” Mitchell’s leg leaned against hers.

“Will do.” Blake’s voice was distant. “Night, Alana.”

“Night,” she called out, smiling.

Something touched her head and she jerked back.

“It’s my shirt.” He pulled it down over her face and with numb limbs she lifted her arms into the holes.

What was with the clothes? Weren’t they about to… Christ, she was confused.

“I’m going to set up a bed on the sofa.”

She tilted her face in the direction of his voice and frowned. “Mitchell?” Surely he couldn’t take Blake’s comment seriously.

He ignored her. “The boxer shorts are on the bed beside you. Do you think you’re able to get them on by yourself?”

Her throat dried. She reached out her arm and felt around until she found the silk material. “Sure.”

“I’ll be back to turn out the light in a few minutes.” Without another word, he left, the soft clasp of the door announcing his departure.

Trying to ignore what happened, she stood and yanked off her jeans. She threw them to the floor, along with her socks and bra, then pulled on his boxers. The clothes were way too big and smelled like him, alluring and masculine, and way too annoying when she knew he wouldn’t be sleeping anywhere near her.

She was sitting back on the corner of the bed when a light rap came at the door.

“I’m decent.” Although she didn’t want to be.

The door opened, and she clasped her hands in her lap, her eyes still closed. She waited for her confidence to build, for her opening to ask him to stay or even to lie beside her for a little while. She refused to be remembered as the woman who made the famous rock star sleep on the sofa.

“All right, I’ll turn off the light so you can go to sleep.”

“There’s no need to sleep on the sofa. I’m sure the bed is big enough for both of us.”

The door latch clicked.

“We’re both tired, Allie. Your eyes need rest to recover and I don’t want to risk disturbing you.”

Brushed. Off.

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