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“Will do.” I yawned. I’d only gotten a couple hours’ sleep before being so rudely awakened. I was a light sleeper. I’d be able to doze on the armchair in the corner of Pierce’s room without fear of sleeping through him choking, which is precisely what I did, after Jake left me to my own devices and I’d pulled off the bad boy’s motorcycle boots and thrown the comforter over him.
I tucked the strands of red-brown hair that had come loose from the long braid I wore in bed behind my ears, found another comforter in the wardrobe, and settled into said chair.
Pierce’s snores lowered to a soft rumble, lulling me into an uneasy sleep. I was worried about Dad, about what state I’d find him in when we returned to LA. What if he’d deteriorated further?
I woke with a start as morning light filtered behind the drapes.
Not a sound came from the king-sized bed.
My heart slammed against my ribcage and my mouth went dry.
Jesus, had Pierce died on my watch?
I threw off my comforter and flew across the room.
The lump on the bed lay still as a statue.
I bent and whispered, “Hey, buddy. You okay?” I rested one knee next to him and gently shook his shoulder. It was like shaking a sack of potatoes, and his skin felt cool to my touch.
“Pierce, it’s time to get up…”
Still no movement. No sound of him breathing. Beads of sweat broke out on my upper lip. Had he died of alcohol poisoning? My belly churned with fear.
“Come on, man. Breakfast will be here in a minute.”
I reached for his hand. The skin was warmer than his shoulder and his fingers squeezed back at mine.
“Oh, thank God, you’re okay,” I murmured.
“Yankee Girl?” He opened one blood-shot eye, his long lashes coal black like his tousled hair. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Jake asked me to look after you, given that you’d clearly drunk enough liquor to make you choke on your own vomit.” I deliberately refrained from mentioning that it had been Pierce himself who’d begged me to stay with him.
He raised himself on his elbow and let out a groan. “My head.” His body racked. “Urgh,” he heaved. “Gonna throw up.”
To give credit where it was due, he managed to lurch across the floor to the bathroom before puking into the toilet bowl.
I ran after him and held his long hair back from his face. Then I wet a washcloth under the cold-water faucet and handed it to him.
He wiped his cupid’s bow lips while I filled a glass. I gave it to him and he rinsed out his mouth. A knock sounded at the hotel suite door. “That’ll be breakfast,” I said.
He made a retching sound. “Can’t eat anything.”
“It’ll settle your stomach.” Christ, I sound just like my mom. “Some toast will absorb any alcohol left in your system.”
I opened the door to a server dude, who wheeled in a cart laden with jugs of orange juice, jugs of coffee, and platters of food covered with silver domes.
I thanked and tipped the server, then took over wheeling the cart into the living area of the suite. Then I poured Pierce a glass of OJ. “This will hydrate you better than coffee.”
“But I need caffeine,” he pouted.
“Only if you behave yourself and eat that toast.”
He smirked. “Yes, Miss.”
I remembered he’d once told me that British schoolkids called their teachers, ‘Miss,’ and I laughed.
He took a long pull of his drink while I buttered him a piece of toast. He ate slowly, staring at me while I helped myself to some cereal. God knew what he was thinking.
When we’d finished eating, I poured us both a cup of coffee. “You’ll have time for a quick shower,” I said, “I need to deliver you to Jake’s suite for a band meeting at nine.”
“Sure, but I want you to shower with me.” At six foot plus, he towered over my five foot nothing. He inclined his head and raked his gaze down my body. “Just in case I pass out.”
I stood on tiptoe and gave him a playful punch on the arm. Obviously, he was feeling better. “Nice try, buddy,” I snickered. “I’ll wait outside the bathroom if you don’t mind.”
Which is what I did. At least until I heard a muffled shout. Was he messing with me? I wouldn’t put it past him, but I couldn’t take the risk that something bad had happened.
My heart in my mouth, I pushed open the door. My jaw dropped. Steam billowed around the rock god, for that was truly what he was. His muscular upper arms were covered in beautiful, black tribal tats. He’d slung a white towel low around his hips. I stared at the V of his abs., at the dark treasure trail leading downward, and I swallowed hard.
