Page 45 of Blind Attraction

Alana blinked away the burn of forming tears. Although he hadn’t said it, she still heard,for the last timeat the end of his declaration.

Mitch grabbed Alana’s hand as she stood.

“We’re going to call it a night,” he announced to his friends.

Leah left over an hour ago, heading to her hotel room a few floors down to get an early night. Kate did the same, choosing to sleep on Leah’s sofa instead of in the crowded suite. And Julie still sat outside on the balcony, anti-social as always.

Blake and Mason raised their gazes from the dining table, both with knowing grins. Blake opened his mouth, then closed it again, the jovial expression fading from his face. Mason followed suit. These men were like his brothers, closer in fact. They could see the pain he endured over needing to let Alana go. It clawed at his chest, made his palms sweat. Their time together hadn’t been long, yet his body was preparing to sink into a drug-like withdrawal at the thought of leaving her.

Sean didn’t raise his focus from the poker cards in his hand. “Have fun. Be safe. Just keep the vocals to a minimum, I’ve got sensitive ears.”

Ryan sniggered, placing two of his cards on the pile in the middle of the table and grabbing two more. “What he said.”

Blake frowned at him, his head tilting in an unspoken question. When Mitch didn’t respond, Blake pushed from the table and made his way to them. “Night, Alana.” He gave her a one-armed cuddle around the shoulders, while his gaze focused on Mitch. “Can I have a word with the priest before you two go and do your thing?” His toned lacked humor.

She replied with a soft nod of her head. “Sure.” She reached on tiptoes and placed a kiss on Mitch’s cheek. “I’m going to go brush my teeth.”

He let her fingers slide from his grasp and winced at the thought of doing it for good in the near future. He stared at Blake, both of them silent and unmoving until Alana left the room and the bedroom door shut with a soft click.

“You’d be stupid to let her go.”

Mitch raised a brow. “You’d be stupid to give an opinion on matters you know nothing about.” He didn’t mean to be a jerk. Blake was only trying to look out for him. Mitch was just sick to death of the knot that had formed in his chest. A knot that grew and strengthened every time he thought about letting go of the woman he was falling for.

Blake’s gaze bore into him, reading his thoughts, making him ache more with his blatant sympathy. “When was the last time you wanted to be with a woman for more than one night?”

Mitch scoffed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Getting her number and telling her you’ll call isn’t a lifetime commitment. It’s an opportunity. If you cut yourself off before you even take a chance, you’re a fucking idiot. And I may be stupid to give my opinion, because I don’t know what her deal is, but you’re a chicken shit if you let her walk away.”

“You don’t know shit.” Mitch turned his back and stepped away. Blake didn’t have a clue about her life or lack of it. He didn’t know she was starting from scratch. That she didn’t have time to wait around for a guy who would only be in her life for chunks at a time. She needed someone constant. Someone to give her the attention she deserved.

Blake grabbed his shoulder and tugged him back.

It may have been anger, the few beers he’d consumed, or the need to get back to Alana in a hurry, but something threw him off balance and he stumbled, slamming into the wall with a thud.

“Oh, shit.” Mason swore from the table and three chairs scraped across the tile.

He righted himself and glared at Blake, not because of the shove, not because his friend was still trying to prove a point, but because there was now an unnecessary scene that was stopping him from being with Alana.

“What?” He raised his voice at Blake. “What the fuck do you want from me?”

Blake put his hands up in surrender and stepped back. “I’m sorry, bro. I didn’t realize you’d had so much to drink. I’ll speak to you in the morning.”

“No. You won’t,” Mitch snapped. He’d gone through it over and over again. They weren’t right for each other. Different lives. Different upbringings. Different futures. She needed a man who wouldn’t stuff her around. A man who would be there to love her twenty–four–seven.

Sean stepped between them and turned to Mitch. “Back off.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His blood boiled. “Blake’s the one playing Dr. Phil or some shit, and you’re tellingmeto back off? I don’t have time for this. I’m going to bed.”

When he turned around, Alana was there, half her body outside the doorframe, her eyes shining with emotion, her brow troubled.

He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath and walked toward her. Once they were both in the room, he slammed the door shut behind them, blocking out the rest of the world. He wanted to comfort her, to apologize for placing the worried frown on her face, but he was too emotional.

Instead, he strode to the bathroom, turned on the tap, and washed his face repeatedly, waiting for his heart rate to decrease. When he calmed to the point of civility, he walked back into the bedroom and found her sitting at the foot of the bed, her head bowed, her hands clasped in her lap.

He strode to the bedroom door, flicked off the light, and went to her. His sight took moments to adjust to the darkness, to the soft glow coming from beneath the door. When he reached the bed, he nudged between her legs, and her thighs parted without protest as he nestled between them. With gentle fingers he lifted her chin and peered down at her shadowed features.

“I’m sorry.” He wished he had the perfect words for her. All he had was an uncomfortable yearning he couldn’t relieve.

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