“Can I borrow your laptop?” Mitch stood in front of Blake, eyebrows raised, heart on his sleeve. They’d barely spoken since leaving Richmond over a week ago. Mitch’s social skills had lacked civility, apparently, so he spent most of his free time alone.

“Ahh, yeah. Sure.” Blake frowned. “Give me two minutes to end my chat session and it’s yours.”

Mitch sat down beside him on the penthouse suite sofa. “Who are you chatting with?”

Blake shot him a glance before turning back to the computer, his fingers madly tapping the keys. “A friend.”

Riiighhhht.

If Mitch weren’t shoulder deep in his own dramatic-self-loathing-depression-bubble he would’ve asked more questions.

“Here ya go.”

He grasped the outstretched laptop, placed it on his thighs, and stared at the screen while his heart did a drum roll.

“What do you need it for?” Blake reclined into the corner of the sofa, outstretching his legs and crossing them at the ankles.

Mitch cleared his throat and continued to blink at the computer. “I just…thought I’d play around on the internet.”

“By Googling Alana, you mean,” Mason added from the kitchen.

He didn’t reply. His friends knew him too well.

“Why don’t you call her?” Mason strode over and sat in front of him on the coffee table.

“I already have.”

“What?” Blake straightened. “When did you do that?”

“What did she say?” Mason asked.

He shrugged, brought up a Google internet page, and typed in Alana’s name. “I hung up.”

They laughed. Assholes.

“You’re a pussy.” Mason pushed from the table and walked back to the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. “A grumpy-ass pussy.”

“I’m not fucking grumpy,” Mitch snapped.

“Umm, you remember the chick who wanted you to sign her tits? You told her to ‘get her skanky ass away from you.’” Blake raised his brows. “I think that constitutes grumpy.”

“And she had a great rack, too.” Mason added.

“So what? I don’t have time for that shit anymore.” He didn’t. Easy women were off his menu. For good. He wouldn’t slum it again, not after Allie.

“Just admit you fucked up, and I’m sure we’ll leave you in peace,” Mason taunted.

“I didn’t fuck up,” he spat. “You did.” He pointed a finger at Mason. “And you did.” He pointed at Blake. “And Ryan and Sean, too. It’s not like you assholes are great role models. Maybe if your love life was peachy and I had even the tiniest insight into what it takes to make a relationship work, while also dealing with a crowd of groupies stuck up my ass, I would’ve had some sort of hope.”

He waited for a smartass reply. Waited and waited. “I’m glad that’s finally settled. Now leave me the hell alone.”

His Google search brought up a page full of links containing the words Alana Shelton. He clicked on the top one – My Life in Focus, a photographic journey through my eyes. A pink screen loaded, the title of the blog standing out in bold script. He scrolled down and sucked in a breath at her image on the side bar. The photo was black and white, in a meadow or a playground. She smiled at the camera, her dimples showing, wisps of dark hair framing her beautiful eyes.

Why hadn’t his desire for her faded? He’d depended on it, had gone to sleep every night hoping to wake up anew. But, nope. The hard stone of regret which lodged in his chest the day he said goodbye had grown.

To the size of a fucking melon.

“Damn, she’s hot.”

Mitch pushed Blake away, ignoring the comment. He scrolled further, to the first post that read ‘Moving On.’ There were no words, only images. One of Kate in a nightclub, dressed in a sparkly red dress with men on either side of her. Colored lights flashed in the background, people danced.

The next was of Alana, the same guys in the image. Her delicious curves were hugged by a tight pink camisole, her hand clutched a cocktail. He focused on her lips. Her beautiful, full, kissable lips, and tried to ignore the man beside her who had his arm around her waist, his mouth on her cheek.

“If you throw my laptop, I will hurt you.”

Shut it, Blake.

“Call her.” Mason sat back on the coffee table and chugged his beer. “Once we finish the promo tour, you’ll have a couple of weeks to catch up with her again.”

A couple of weeks. Mitch scoffed. Weeks would never be enough. He needed more. He needed forever. Unfortunately, it wasn’t an option on the table when his career had him flying around the globe.

He scrolled further down the page to an earlier post—Fractured, Not Broken. Underneath the heading was another photo of Alana. Her eyes glistened, a single tear streaked down her cheek as she focused to the side of the camera. The background blurred behind her and even with anguish distorting her features, she still took his breath away.

“Wow, kinda grips you by the balls, doesn’t it?” Blake murmured.

Mitch frowned and wriggled his nose, trying to dislodge the unwelcomed tingle. His sight blurred and he had to blink to regain focus. The weight of regret increased, squashing his lungs. How would he get through this? He hadn’t even boarded the jet from Richmond before doubt started to gnaw at his insides. He hadn’t realized how much their time together had affected him. Well, not until it was too late, anyway.

Before he chickened out, he clicked on the link to the last post and placed the curser in the comment section. I miss you, Allie. He typed his name with shaky hands then pressed submit, not allowing himself time to contemplate his actions.

“What are you doing?” Blake leaned closer, rubbing his shoulder. “Oh, no you didn’t.”

Mitch shot him a glare. “What? I wanted to send her a message to let her know I’m thinking about her.”

“Stalker.” Mason chuckled. “Hang up calls, tracking her down online… You sure you don’t have a pair of her panties hidden under your pillow?”

Mitch wished.

“I just want to know if she’s all right.”

He needed to reach out. Maybe his conscience wouldn’t allow him to move on because their farewell had been hostile. He never wanted to hurt her. Her future happiness had always been the reason for the decisions he made. Ending things on bad terms had almost killed him. Nothing felt right anymore.

For those few days with Alana, his life had been full. Content. The entirety of his existence had some semblance of meaning.

Now…now nothing mattered.

He didn’t want to smile, he didn’t want to perform, he didn’t even have the motivation or desire to get drunk and screw around with groupies.

He was broken.

Lost.

And unlucky for him, he’d thrown away the only thing able to turn his life around.

* * *

Alana had done a great job occupying herself for the last ten days, yet every so often she needed to stop and breathe and think.

Those were the times when Mitchell invaded her thoughts and wouldn’t let go.

The day after his rejection had been the worst. She’d woken to the sound of Kate’s shrill voice echoing up the hall. Reckless Beat’s interview with the breakfast talk show blared on the television, and apparently waking Alana required the call of a banshee.

She’d shuffled into the lounge room, her mind still half asleep as she listened to him announce to the world that she was a ‘distraction.’ His words not only fractured the cracks in her heart, they smashed her wide open, exposing her heartbreak to anyone who cared to notice. She’d foolishly thought he’d been too scared to fall in love, or commitment might’ve been the issue. Now she knew better.

A distraction. Christ.

He cemented the notion that she had no concept of reality. She was her mother’s daughter, after all. At least it turned her mood from weighty despair to energized fury. She wanted to remind him that she never asked for his help. He’d pushed to be her knight in shining armor, not the other way around. Only she didn’t have his phone number to give him a piece of her mind. He’d conveniently taken hers and not shared his in return.

“Are you still staring at his message?” Kate walked into Alana’s bedroom and peered down at her computer screen.

Alana sighed and read the line again. I miss you, Allie. “I can’t help it.” Anger had been her constant companion. Finding the comment only made things worse, ripping her to pieces all over again.

Talk about a damn distraction.

She started the blog the night he left Richmond. She couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, so she threw herself into work. A new blog, a new life, a new outlook. Only Mitchell ruined that too.

“Delete it.”

Alana nodded. She should, yet what she really wanted to do was re-wallpaper her room with those few simple words. “I’m going to remove it all. The whole blog. Every post.”

“What? No way! I’m not letting you do that.”

“No.” She inhaled deep, filling her lungs for strength. “I need to. I started the blog to get over him, and it worked for a while, but now every time I check my email I wonder if he’s left another message. And every time I start another post, I wonder if he’ll read it.” She turned to Kate and gave a sad smile. “I need to delete the whole damn thing.”

Kate winced. “That sucks!” She moved closer, and scooted her ass onto Alana’s desk to face her. “Why don’t you do a post on why sex toys are greater than a man? Or a certain guy in particular. I can buy you the rabbit vibrator I promised you for your break-up gift, and you can review it. Tell the world how only the finest medical grade silicone is better than the famous Mitchell Da—”

The house phone rang, and Kate scooted off the table. “We’ll finish this in a sec.”

Alana sighed and stared back at the words. I miss you, Allie. Her heart clenched. She missed him, too.

With a deep breath, she clicked onto the control panel of her blog and went to the settings tab. Kate had been kind enough to stop playing Reckless Beat’s music and removed memorabilia from view. The least Alana could do was take away the distractions on her end. There were only a few posts anyway. Nothing she couldn’t replicate when her memories of Mitchell faded.

She moved the mouse curser, hovered it over the Delete Blog button, and paused.

“Alana?”

She glanced over her shoulder at Kate who stood in the doorway. Her face was troubled with a frown, her skin pale.

“What is it?” Her mouth dried. She stood, her legs shaking as she stumbled forward and grasped the outstretched phone.

“It’s Patty from your mom’s retreat. There’s been an accident.”