Page 65 of The Attack Zone

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Page 65 of The Attack Zone

“You look beautiful,” he says quietly, like it’s a secret just for me. It’s the first time he’s said it before. Sexy? Yes. Hot? For sure. But never justbeautiful. Hearing the word on his lips basically levels me to the ground. What am I supposed to do here? Probably not reach my hand around his head to pull his lips to mine, but that’s what I seem to be doing. I also seem to be digging my hands into his hair and moaning against hismouth. I’ve lost all control and we aren’t even at dinner yet. Why does he have this effect on me?

When our lips finally part, he lets out a little chuckle. “Alright, love,” he says. “We have a reservation to get to.” Then he guides me out of my apartment with a hand on my lower back and leads me downstairs.

We’re seated in a private corner of the restaurant Mitch picked out. I think he picked it for me, though, because he knows how much I love steak, and he’s more of a fish guy.

“So,” he says.

“So,” I say, trying to ignore my phone buzzing on the table.

“You good?” he asks. But my brain has returned to work. Specifically, to what my phone could be buzzing about.

“Sorry,” I say after the world’s longest pause. “Just a lot on my mind.”

“It’s not your fault, love,” he says. “Listen, I know the past week has been a lot to handle, and I appreciate you not immediately running for the hills.” He pauses. “You’d have every right.”

He doesn’t really think that, does he? This has nothing to do with him. It’s about me and my inability to focus on more than one thing at a time. It’s about how I can’t be what he deserves.

“Mitch,” I start.

“Stacey,” he says at the same time.

“You go ahead,” I say.

“No, you first,” he says.

The waiter appears to refill our waters and ask if we want a bottle of wine for a third time. I politely turn him down again and wait for him to leave us alone so I can have a frank conversation with Mitch about how I’m feeling.

But then I look over at him and he looks ... sad almost.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“You can have wine if you want,” he says. “It won’t bother me.”

“I know,” I say. “I just don’t feel like it.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, his eyes avoiding mine.

What on earth are you sorry for, Mitch?”

“I just wish I could be normal for you, I guess,” he says.

He ... What ... Normal?!

“Mitch,” I say. “There is nothing abnormal about you.”

I reach for his hand across the table. His phone buzzes on the table.

“Well, we both know that isn’t true,” he says, but he accepts my hand.

“My weirdness right now isn’t about you,” I say. “It’s because of me.”

“What are you talking about?” he asks.

My phone buzzes yet again but I ignore it. I rub the top of his hand with my thumb and take a deep breath. “I’m not great at this,” I say. “I’ve never been able to have my career and a relationship at the same time. I’ve spent years alone being focused on my business because when I’ve tried to do both, I’ve failed. And I can’t afford to lose my business. I love my career too much for that.”

“I love that you love your career, Stacey,” he says. My phone buzzes again, I think it’s a call this time. “It’s one of the many things I ...” His phone is buzzing now too. “Sorry, one sec.” He reaches for his phone and picks it up.

“What on earth do you want? I’m at dinner with Stacey,” he says to whoever is on the other line. “No, I haven’t been on Instagram today. Why?”




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