Page 107 of Dangerous Attraction

Chapter Thirty-Five

Trix

As I'm cleaning the tables in the bar, waiting for Emery to pick me up to take me to Michaels for dinner, Mouse leisurely walks down the stairs. He pauses at the bottom, ambling there for a few seconds, then makes his way to the bar stools.

I'm shocked, to say the least, because he's been avoiding me lately.

Finishing the table, I move toward him, then round the bar and put the wet cloth on the side.

Tapping my nails against the wood, I look at him to find him already staring at me, his eyes shrouded with guilt.

"Are you okay, Mouse?"

He gulps, fidgeting in his seat, then he shakes his head.

Crinkles form above his brows, and he wipes his hands along his jeans.

"I'm sorry."

Frowning, I lean over the bar and gently place my hand on his arm, stopping him from rubbing them raw.

"What do you have to be sorry for?"

"It was my fault," he says, eyes glistening with tears. "You got hurt because of me."

My eyes dart back and forth between his.

"When my dad hurt me?" I ask, confused as to what he's talking about.

He nods, chin trembling slightly when he takes a deep breath.

"Mouse, my dad hurting me had nothing to do with you."

"I was the reason you went back there!" he shouts, pushing away from the bar, and almost tripping over the stool as it crashes to the ground.

Realization dawns, and I immediately shake my head, hurrying around the bar until I'm standing in front of him.

Grabbing his hands in mine, I squeeze them tight, waiting for him to look at me.

"You can't blame yourself for me going back there. It was my choice. I knew what I was getting myself into by lying to everyone around me. It's my own fault for not telling anyone the truth about the situation I was in. You did the right thing by confronting me, Mouse. Please, don't blame yourself for what happened."

A tear dribbles down his cheek, and I quickly reach up and swipe it away.

"Is this why you've been avoiding me?" I ask. "Because you felt guilty?"

He nods. "I'm sorry."

Tugging him forward, I wrap my arms around him and rub my hands along the length of his back.

"I promise you, I don't blame you in any way for what happened, and you shouldn't blame yourself, either. The only person at fault is my father. He should be the only person feeling guilty. Not you. Not me. Him."

He sighs, and finally returns my hug, squeezing me against his broad chest.

"Him," he whispers. "Not me. Him."

My phone blaring through the room pulls us apart, and I shoot Mouse an apologetic look as I pull my phone from my pocket and accept Emery's call.

"I'm almost there," she sings, music thumping in the background. "Do you want me to drive up to the clubhouse, or wait at the end of the road?"