Page 48 of Blind Attraction

Alana came to consciousness, warm, sated, and still wearing the smile she fell asleep with the night before. Mitchell lay behind her, the hardness of his hip resting against her bottom. The heat of his hand sat against the top of her thigh.

She began to rise from the bliss of sleep into reality, and the happiness slid from her face. She didn’t want to open her eyes and begin the day. Beginning the day meant she came closer to the end where she would have to say goodbye to the man she adored. The thought of their upcoming last kiss made her stomach turn.

Sliding her hand from her pillow, she ran it under the sheet, over her naked waist to rest on top of Mitchell’s. She touched him for strength. Above everything, she wanted to be able to say her farewell without drama. There wouldn’t be a fan-girl moment. She wouldn’t cry. As much as her eyes burned and her hands trembled, she wouldn’t shed a tear in front of him.

She gripped his fingers and startled at the groan that followed. A groan which vibrated from in front of her, not behind. Her eyes snapped open. She followed the lump under the sheet beside her, all the way up to the tattooed arm coming out from the covering, to the spiky dark hair of a man resting face down on the pillow.

A squeak escaped her throat.

“Blake,” she whispered and swallowed to alleviate her dry mouth.

He groaned again. “What?” His voice came out garbled from the pillow.

“Your hand is on my thigh.” She didn’t move and kept her voice low, not wanting to wake Mitchell.

“Mmm.”

“Blake!” She pleaded. Her skin buzzed at his touch, making her hyperventilate. “I’m naked, and your hand is on my thigh.”

He tilted his head, gave her a flash of his crooked grin and slid his hand away. “Sorry, I hadn’t noticed.” His tone and gleaming eyes told her the exact opposite. He stretched and turned onto his back, placing his heavily inked arms behind his head.

She raised a brow at his arrogance, but couldn’t muster any annoyance. Blake had been kind to her. A little cheeky at times, and yet, along with the man lying behind her, they both reiterated the message that the opposite sex wasn’t the enemy. He had been the echo to Mitchell’s perfection, the person who backed up the kindness and trust.

“Why are you here?” Her voice was breathy. She wanted to believe it came from the shock of waking up with an unwelcomed guest in the bed. The way her nipples tightened told her otherwise. Not that she was attracted to Blake. He did have the most gorgeous, dark brown eyes she’d ever seen, but he didn’t match her like a jigsaw puzzle the way Mitchell did.

He kept his eyes closed. “Ryan and Julie took my bed...even though they weren’t going to make good use of it. And Mason and Sean drank too much and passed out on the couch and floor. I had nowhere to sleep.”

“And your hand on my thigh?”

His grin widened and he opened one eye to glance at her. “I snuggle in my sleep.”

She shook her head at him and diverted her gaze to his arms. She followed the intricate designs marking his skin from his wrists to his shoulders and her heart fluttered with slow dawning realization.

She could see.

There were still fuzzy patches, parts of her vision melted into others, but overnight her sight had improved enough for her to make out the finer details. If Mitchell weren’t asleep, she would place her face an inch away from his and stare into his eyes forever.

As if reading her thoughts, he moaned from behind her and wobbled the mattress as he shifted on the bed. He changed his position so they were spooning, his erection nudging against her ass, his arm moving to cuddle her waist and lay against her belly. He ground into her, once, twice, then went languid against her.

She remained silent until his breathing grew heavy against her neck. When she was convinced he’d fallen back asleep, she turned her gaze to Blake, who now stared at her.

“You like him.”

She took a deep breath and pulled the sheet up to her collarbone, taking the extra moments to compose herself. “Yes.” There was no need to elaborate. She wasn’t sure what her feelings for Mitchell meant. She only knew her heart was full, all because of him.

“Have you two spoken about what’s going to happen once we leave?”

His voice was flat, and she hated the unfamiliar seriousness in his tone. He no longer smiled, the humor having left his face entirely. The change in him unsettled her. She prepared for the best friend speech, where he would ask her to walk away quietly. Or explain to her the time with Mitchell was nothing more than a fling.

She focused on the white hotel sheet and made swirling patterns with her fingers against the cotton. “No.” She gave a slight shrug. “He mentioned maybe calling me. But apart from that, we haven’t discussed anything.”

Her heart beat stronger waiting for his reply. When it came, his words were barely audible. “He likes you.”

Her gaze snapped to him, needing to read his expression. What she saw made her chest constrict. His eyes held an anguish she knew would be echoed in her own. She hadn’t expected him to voice the hopes she bottled inside. She’d figured he’d let her down gently.

“Don’t let him go, Alana.” He implored her. “He wants you just as much as you want him. Don’t let the hurdles surrounding his career stand in your way.”

Relief and hope burst to life, flooding her with happiness. His career had never scared her away as much as it made her feel out of his league. She lay in silence, picturing what their future would be like if they did commit to one another.

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