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She dropped to her ass and rolled as a wash of vomit hit the can on the floor. After a few heavy exhales, he lowered his head to the bed and mumbled, “Charlee.”

He remembered her.

Whatever, bitch.He called me Charlee right before he ejaculated.

She sucked in a breath and with it the rancid stench of puke. A few splatters had hit her chest despite her efforts. She fought her gag reflex and ran to the closet, stripping her shirt on the way.

As she shrugged on one of his t-shirts— a vintageDead Milkmenshirt? Yes!—she told herself that he was every bit as fucked up as she was. The only thing they could develop beyond friendship was a madness shared by two.

She wanted to be supportive. She wanted to finish his tattoo, but she had to be careful with her feelings, and most definitely with his. More than that, she had to make sure Roy didn’t learn about her interest in Jay Mayard.

22

Charlee returned to Jay’s bedside, wearing his t-shirt instead of his puke. He hadn’t stirred. The sheets appeared clean. There were a few drops on the carpet, but the can caught most of it. A practiced move, no doubt.

She rinsed out the bucket in the bathroom and scrubbed the carpet with a towel that probably cost more than her entire wardrobe. Then she stood beside his head, staring at him. Should she move him?

Stop staring at him. Stop thinking about him. She should find out what was keeping Laz and Nathan, but she didn’t want to leave him. What if he needed her?

That was when she knew she should leave the room. Her longing for a man she’d met three long years ago was surfacing and she didn’t know what to do with that. Panic flooded her. She tucked her ridiculous feelings away and fled the room.

A few empty foyers led her to the hush of voices in the suite’s library. Nathan and the driver—what was her name? Tony?—sat on velvet chaises amidst the shelves of leatherbound books. It wasn’t the company Nathan kept that surprised her, so much as how close they leaned toward one another.

Nathan laughed at something the woman said, and he turned his head. Their eyes caught. “Hey Charlee. Everything okay?”

She crossed the room and settled in the closest chair. “Jay’s out for the night. I’ll talk to him tomorrow if he’s not busy.”

The woman stood with her shoulders kicked back. “This is a pleasure trip. They don’t have anything booked.”

Nathan rose. “Let me do some introductions. This is Master Sergeant Maryanna Tony, U.S. Marine Corps. She’s leads the protective team for the band.” He actually puffed out his chest. “Master Sergeant. Meet Charlee Grosky.”

A fellow Marine. This would be interesting. “She outranks you.”

He stared at his feet with a smile playing on his lips.

“Nice to officially meet you, Master…er…Tony… How should I address you?”

“Tony is fine. And I’m retired, Nathan.” Her rigid posture mirrored his, but her teasing expression softened her pretty features.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “We were just discussing escort formation techniques for protection while on foot. Their area security procedures for traveling and the perimeter barriers at their L.A. home are—”

“Impressive?”

He grinned. “Yeah.”

Oh, yeah. Tony had nuzzled right into his heart. He’d never get it back. “Sharing trade secrets then?”

They looked at one another with blank expressions. Must have been some kind of Marine language. But beneath his usual stiffness, there was a phlegmatic feel to the way he observed—and didn’t observe—his surroundings. He trusted the pretty Marine. “Did you tell her?”

He palmed his nape. “Some of it. She knows who Roy is. In fact, he recruited her for his VIP protection personnel.”

Jesus, Nathan really did trust her. She looked at Tony and felt a little intimidated by the air of competence exuding from her. Her crisp black pants suit, alert eyes, and fierce set to her jaw were enough to act as a deterrent to would-be celebrity maulers. “Turning down that job was probably the smartest thing you’ve ever done.”

“So I hear.” Her face gave away nothing. “My sidearm is useless without fingers to fire it.”

A chain of memories coiled its way around her. It tightened when Nathan asked, “You ready to go?”

Until that moment, her nerves had been less sensitive since they arrived at the suite. “You know, I haven’t thought of Roy once since we’ve been here.”