Tracy

The alcohol warmed my tummy and I set down my empty glass. I had hit my limit and without much food at dinner it was more lethal. I sat back in my chair and watched my parents head to the dance floor. It was difficult not to stare at them wistfully wishing I could find that someone special to share in moments like this. My mother leaned her small frame into my father's embrace.

My gaze drifted to my brother who led Sarah onto the dance floor and I smiled. They were blissful. I wanted him to be happy but it was also a reminder of what I was missing in my life. I didn't know if it was the alcohol or the moment that made me feel a little tearful.

"You okay?" Sophie asked, still seated beside me.

I nodded, unable to speak. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I tried to compose myself. "I'm just feeling a little sentimental."

She put her arm around me and gave me a hug. I leaned my head on her shoulder momentarily before releasing a breath. I was too emotional to remain there, I needed space.

"Tell Mom and Dad I had a headache." I let out a breath to ease the build up in my chest.

Sophie looked at me with concern but nodded her head. "I love you," she murmured.

"Ditto," I replied squeezing her hand before I hurried out to the nearest exit which led to the reception at the front of the building.

I opened my clutch bag to fish out my key card for my room. I couldn't even remember what number it was. I stopped as I searched but didn't find anything. Damn it!

I closed my eyes for a moment and let out a heavy breath, trying to remember if I might have left it at the table. The last thing I wanted to do was go back to look for my room key but no amount of wishing was going to make it appear in my bag.

Irritated I turned and walked straight into someone. My half open clutch bag dropped to the floor scattering it's contents as hands steadied me.

Startled I stared into familiar green eyes that made made my heart leap out of my chest leaving me struggling to catch my breath. Mark. He steadied me before kneeling to pick up my bag and contents.

When he reached for the can of mace he stood and held it in his hand.

Not wanting him to make a big deal out of it I snatched it from him. "Thank you," I mumbled as he gave me my bag.

"Is there a reason why you're carrying it?" he cocked his head slightly. He missed nothing, I could feel the scrutiny of his gaze.

I was a terrible liar so instead of looking him in the eye I dropped my gaze to make as if I was ensuring I hadn't forgotten anything else that might have fallen out but it was only a ploy to be able to try and lie without him picking up on it.

"You and Matt gave me the longest lecture on the planet on why I should always carry it with me," I replied making myself look back up into his deep green eyes.

"We did. And I remember you vowing never to use it. I think your exact response included your fear of mixing it up with perfume and landing up in hospital." A smile tugged at his lips.

I got distracted with way his smile accentuate his dimples and it was difficult to concentrate.

"Tracy?" he prompted.

I shrugged, trying to downplay it but it was difficult to lie to him usually and the alcohol was muddling my thoughts.

"You okay?" he asked, taking a closer look. His hand wrapped around my wrist as he pulled me closer.

I lifted my hand to my press it to my forehead. It was difficult to think when he was near and the fact I was pretty tipsy wasn't helping. Then I remembered the excuse I had given my sister for my early absence.

"Headache," I mumbled. To be so close to him was playing havoc with my senses. All I could concentrate on was how striking his eyes and how good he smelled. It was a mixture of fresh soap and something else I couldn't quite determine.

"I'll walk you to your room," he informed me tucking my hand into his arm.

For him to touch my hand sent my heart racing and I took a shaky breath trying to maintain some sort of pretence that I wasn't in revelling in teenage fantasies that he was being protective. I swallowed. Then I remembered my missing key card.

"I don't..." I began to say, still not wanting to admit I had lost it.

I was always misplacing things. It was a standard joke in my family that if anyone wanted anything to disappear they would just give it to me. I hated it.

I was an adult and I wanted to show I could take care of myself and be successful. My love for photography had made choosing a career easy. It had started with occasionally family photos and I had built up a portfolio of loyal customers. Word of mouth had ensured I had a steady stream of work. I worked the hours I wanted and made enough money to live. My grandparents had left me money to cover the initial cost of camera equipment. So at least I was capable in the career department but I couldn't keep a relationships going and I couldn't even keep my hotel room card safe. For goodness sake I couldn't even remember my room number.

"Don't what?" he asked.

I blinked. There was no getting out of it now. "I lost my...room key."

"Tracy." The tone he used grated on my nerves. It was the same tone my father and brother used to lecture me. What was it with the men in my life that felt they had a right to tell me what to do?

"Don't Tracy me." I retorted pulling my arm free of his and immediately missed the closeness of him.

He shook his head. "Someone could pick it up and pay you a visit in the middle of the night."

I rolled my eyes. Why did he and my brother always see the worst possible scenarios? I knew their work entailed danger but this was a bit ridiculous. Although thinking about it, the key would be wrapped in card with my room number.

"Just stop," I muttered. "I'm not in the mood for a lecture."

He frowned.

"Tomorrow you can lecture me all you want."

He let out a frustrated breath before pulling me to the reception desk, I hurried to keep up with his long strides. A young woman with only eyes for Mark got me a new key card and cancelled the previous missing card. The appreciative flutter of her eyelids at him irritated me.

It wasn't easy find a boyfriend and all he had to do was look in the direction of the opposite sex. It wasn't fair.

"Thank you," I muttered about to take the new card but Mark took it and pocketed it. He gave the receptionist a smile and thanked her.

He led me to the lift.

"Give it to me." I held out my hand to him. He was really starting to annoy me. I didn't like to be bossed around by anyone much less him.

He didn't give me the key, instead he took my hand and pulled me into the lift that arrived.

"I'll see you to your room," he insisted.

He was so like my brother at times. Taking control of a situation, even if it wasn't needed.

"I can take care of myself," I reminded him, pulling my hand from his.

He pushed the button for my floor before turning to face me.

"Yeah, like losing the key to your hotel room. It looks like you're doing a great job."

I crossed my arms. In the confined space of the lift it was difficult not to be taken with the magnetism that pulled my attention from wherever it was to him. Why couldn't I feel this with someone else? Why did it have to be with him?

"Are you bored?" I shot back. "Running out of clients to protect."

If he discovered what my ex had done to me it would only confirm his already low opinion of my capability to look after myself. Not that I needed him to approve of anything.