“Yeah. No need since you two sneaked away earlier.”
Asher shrugged, refusing to answer.
“Not worried,” Evan said, letting it go. “Make her Hangover Hash in the morning. Works like a charm.” Evan’s hangover remedy was a plate of browned potatoes, peppers, onions, cheese, and a fried egg—or in Asher’s case, three—on top. Ash had sampled that fare a time or twelve. He and his buddy were no strangers to the hangover. Neither was Glo. Come morning, he refused to let her be filled with regret—over the wine or the bathroom sex. Both were way too good—way too fun—to regret.
“Good luck.” Evan lifted Charlie into his arms, hoisting her easily, leaving behind the blanket she’d covered both herself and Gloria with. “’Night.”
“’Night, man,” Asher said. Even though it was more like morning. Four in the morning last he checked. He looked down at Gloria, on her side, black hair spread around her like ink leaked from a bottle. Her skin was pale, her lashes dark, her snoozing form lifting and falling beneath the plaid blanket.
She was beautiful and for the moment, she was his. It was everything he could want right now, all wrapped up in his bedding. He’d let her slip away from him after they’d come down to the fire to join their friends. She needed her space, and frankly, he could’ve used a little as well.
Sex with Gloria Shields had been fun, but this time no cracks in the universe had opened up and spilled out a vision of their future. No new lyrics to the song he’d been trying to recapture. He’d been so sure of what occurred between them last year, and now…where the fuck was it?
Mimicking Evan’s move, Asher lifted Gloria into his arms, blanket and all. She stirred, barely, snuggling against him and blowing warm wine-infused breath on his neck.
“Not letting you away from me tonight, Sarge,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. He carried her up the steps and across the deck. Shiff quit playing the guitar when he spotted him, leaning the old Mitchell Ash had had since he was a teen against the stairs and standing.
“Everyone out?” Asher asked him.
“Yep.”
“You didn’t have to stay.” He kept his voice down, though the way Gloria was snoring suggested she wouldn’t wake even if he shouted. “But thanks for keeping an eye out.” People at these kinds of parties tended to walk out with the silver if no one was looking, so the bandmates took turns whenever they were together keeping an eye on the place. “And for earlier.”
Shiff’s typical stone features split for a brief smile.
“Stay as long as you like. Spare room behind the studio.”
“I’m rollin’.” He nodded rather than do their typical low five/handshake since Asher’s arms were full of Gloria Shields.
“Careful,” Ash said, and he meant that in every way. No doubt Shiff was headed back to his hotel, where a girl or two was obediently waiting in his bed. Or maybe they’d started without him. With him, it was hard to say.
With Shiff on the road to wherever he was going, Asher let himself into the house. Tank lifted his head, having found a home on someone’s shirt left behind. A woman’s shirt by the looks of it. He could only hope it wasn’t Jordan’s or Gloria would go radioactive.
He carried Glo to his room at the back of the house and laid her on the bed. Her hair smelled of fire and there was sand on her dress. He tossed the beach blanket in the hallway, figuring he’d deal with it later, and left her briefly—just long enough to check the house for stragglers and lock up.
No one else stayed. They were alone.
In his room, he stripped her out of her dress, then out of her bra, reliving the moment earlier when he’d gotten her out of her clothes. He left her in panties, telling himself that had been a mighty big ask of him, then he stripped down to nothing at all and climbed in next to her.
Out of the handful of times they’d slept together, she typically slept somewhere other than next to him afterward. So, in a way he lied to Evan when he said he wasn’t going to take advantage of her in her passed-out state. He was going to cuddle with her, and he was going cuddle hard.
A thought that put a tired smile on his face as he curled against her and pulled a sheet over both of them. He wrapped an arm around her and she mumbled incoherently in her sleep. In a few seconds, Tank pawed the bed and whined, and Asher let go of Gloria long enough to lift the dog onto the bed as well. The furball curled up in the crook of Gloria’s bent knees. Asher faced her, moving her bangs away from her forehead and trailing his knuckles down her cheek. Then he scooted closer, pressed his body to hers, and skin-to-skin, he fell asleep.
Chapter 13
Jackhammers. There were jackhammers in her head and cotton balls in her mouth. Gloria ran her tongue along the roof of her mouth and it stuck there. She held her skull and rolled over smelling musk and leather…