Taking a deep breath through her nose, she raised her eyes to mine. "I'm so sorry about what happened last night."

"It's not your fault, Sheri," I told her. Poor woman.

She had been just as humiliated as I had-more so, in my opinion.

"Phil has always felt so wrong about what happened that night. And Jason knew that, too. He knew how upset Phil was after it was done."

Curiosity won out, and I just had to ask, "Just how upset was he?"

"He..." Sheri swallowed thickly and looked down at her wringing hands. "He cried over you. He really hated himself. I never understood just what it was you meant to him until recently. But something happened inside him that night, and from what the guys have told me over the years, he's never been the same."

Shaking my head, I said, "It's not like I ever expected him to be faithful to a girl he spent a couple of hours with-"

"At that point, I think they were the happiest hours he had ever known."

They were mine, too, I thought with a hint of bitterness. They had made me so happy that I had refused to find that with anyone else.

"Um, I won't lie..." Her cheeks and neck flushed deeply. "I've, um...I've given all the guys a lot of blow jobs over the years-Phil included, even after that night. But we've never had, like, actual sex."

"I know."

Her eyes snapped to mine again. "He told you?"

"No, Flipper warned me the night of the concert. He told me so that I could be prepared for any cattiness that might come of it. He also said you were very protective of Phil."

Sheri glanced down at her hands again, nodding. "I am because of that night. He didn't know me, but he cried in my arms while he poured his heart out to me."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yes."

"Why do you do it? Give all of them..."

She blushed harder. "Oh, um...well, we spent a lot of time on the road, and it's just easier to have one chick on the bus who'll do the deed. It's not like it was a job requirement or anything. I was happy to do it. They're all good-looking guys, and I care about them, so..."

I nodded. "I'm just happy it wasn't in the job description."

"Jason wouldn't let me sleep with anyone else but him, but he...understands that I'm a bit of a freak in the sex department. I like what a lot of other people might consider, um...taboo."

"I'm not judging you, Sheri. My parents were a bit taboo themselves. I was just curious as to why you did what you did."

"Okay."

"When was the last time you gave Phil a blow job?"

"Oh, um...his birthday." She was so flustered that I felt bad for asking. "He was a bit wasted, and he hadn't done anything with anyone in a while, so I offered, and he, uh...said okay."

"It's okay, Sheri. I get it."

She let out a shaky breath. "Okay. Good."

"How's Jason doing?" I asked, hoping the change of subject would make us both feel more at ease.

"He's in a lot of pain, but they gave him some pain killers. It's making him feel nauseous-"

"Of course it is. I guess he hasn't eaten anything since last night?" I asked, snapping into doctor mode.

Shaking her head, she met my gaze once more. "I was told to give him only really soft food. You know...because of his teeth." Suddenly, she looked terrified. "I have no idea how to cook, Kenna. I was about to head to the store to get some cans of soup and instant mashed potatoes. I hope I don't fuck that up too badly."

Grinning at her, I said, "Girl, you're in luck. Not only am I a doctor, but I'm a nutritionist who loves to cook."

"Seriously? Oh, I couldn't ask that of you, not after what he did."

"You didn't ask. I offered. I have everything we need. Let's head to my place and pick up my juicer and some ingredients-"

"A juicer?"

"Yep. He needs something to help settle his stomach. He can have something more solid later on today."

Getting to my feet, I was glad to have something to do, an agenda to follow. This would help me alleviate some of my guilt. It would keep me busy and my mind off Phil and whatever mess he was dealing with.

Heading back to my house through the backyard, she asked, "Where are we going?"

"My house."

She hurried after me, her generous bouncing chest leading the way for her. I watched her eyes go wide.

"You live there?"

"I do."

"Well...that's convenient." She laughed.

"Yeah, maybe a little too convenient."

Once back at the Plantation House, we headed into the big kitchen in the other half of the house, and I started setting up the juicer. Sheri lurked, shadowing my every move, avidly watching. I found it a bit unnerving at first, but soon, I realized that was just how she learned. I could practically hear her taking mental notes.

After cleaning and peeling a bunch of fruit and veggies, I started shoving the ingredients into the mouth of the machine and pressed them through. I made enough juice for the two of us to share a glass and a large glass for the patient. Taking a sip, I was satisfied with the results, and I handed the glass over for her to taste.

"Wow! That's really good!"

Phil silently turned the corner into the kitchen just at that moment. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, and I noticed how the colors in my world seemed a little more bright and dazzling when he was in it even if he did look absolutely miserable.

Sheri and I just stared at him for a few seconds in a bizarre sort of silence.

"What are you two doing?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, um...Kenna made some fresh juice for Jason," Sheri said, holding out the sample glass to him. "Wanna try it?"

Biting his bottom lip, he reached for the glass. Skeptically peering into it, he swirled the contents before taking a sip.

"That's pretty fuckin' tasty," he remarked.

Grabbing a straw from one of the drawers, Sheri plopped it into the thick green juice. "I'll bring this to him then. Kenna says it'll help his stomach with the painkillers."

Phil nodded. "Yeah, he's tryin' not to puke."

She warmly smiled at me before heading out while Phil just stood there, looking at me.

"What?" I asked when it got weird.

"You didn't have to do that," he replied gruffly.

"I wanted to." I started disassembling my juicer and rinsing the parts.

He took the rinsed bits and laid them on a kitchen towel to dry.

When we finished up, he turned to me and took my face in his warm large hands. Gazing down into my eyes, his look was so intense that I felt my legs go a bit wobbly. His head dipped, and he briefly pressed his lips to mine.

Smiling brightly, my cheeks squished in his gentle grip.

I guessed the sight of my squished and smiling face was enough to force him to crack a smile himself. My heart swelled a bit when his dimples popped.

"So...are you going to tell me what's going on?" I asked.

His smile faded. "Yeah," he replied.

He took my hand and led me to his half of the house through the sliding panel door. Shutting it behind us, he didn't bother to lock it, but he pulled me to the living room and onto his lap after he'd flopped down on the big couch. His arms wrapped tightly around me, and he buried his face into the crook of my neck.

"He looks bad," he said, sighing. "I...I can't believe I did that to him."

"What did he say?"

"He said that he was sorry, that he..." He swallowed thickly, and against my back, I felt his breath hitch in his chest. "He's pretty fucked up, but he told me that he was pissed that you had just walked into my life and that I seemed ready to sacrifice the band to be with you."

"I figured it was something along those lines," I admitted.

"I told him you were our biggest fan and that you'd kill me if I did something like that. I think he understood. He also said that he wants to apologize to you, that you didn't deserve to be hurt like that."

"Do you forgive him then?"

"I told him so," he replied, which I surmised wasn't really the same thing. "Can you?"

"Of course. Once the arsenic I slipped into his juice takes over, we'll never have to worry about him again."

Phil stiffened and held his breath.

"Oh, for the love of all that's holy, you don't actually believe that I'd-"

"No," he said. "But the way you said it, all casual-like...you've got a fuckin' twisted sense of humor." He laughed. "I guess you would have to, to be with me."

I'm not sure I want to know what he means by that, I thought.

"Well, I can tell him I forgive him and give him a once-over-"

"No. I don't want you to see him."

"Phil, you do know that I'm a doctor, right? It's my job. And more importantly, I work most specifically with pain relief-"

"I don't want you to see him yet, okay?"

He doesn't want me to see what he's capable of, I realized.

"He's already seen the doctors. They told him what to do. You don't have to do anythin'. Besides, he doesn't deserve your kindness just yet."

"Whatever," I grumped, relaxing in his arms all the same.

He held me like this for a few minutes. He was just quiet, contemplative. Then, he sniffed me.

"You smell so good."

Before he could act on any sort of urge he was getting-I could already feel him swelling under my ass-there came a timid knock at the sliding panel door.

"Yeah?" he called out, annoyed.

Sheri shyly stepped in, and I attempted to scoot off Phil's lap. His arms wound around me tighter, and I just gave up.

"He's sleeping now," she told us. "And that juice made him feel loads better. I made him smoke a joint before drinking it."

"Good deal," I said.

"I still have to head to the store to get soft food for him, and I was wondering if you had any ideas on what I should get. Could you maybe help me make a list?"

"Why don't I just go with you?"

If Phil's arms got any tighter, I would be unable to breathe.

"Baby Girrrl..." he growled in a warning tone.

"Oh no, I couldn't ask that of you," Sheri replied.

"You don't have to. I'm happy to help," I told her, sneakily reaching back and pinching the shit out of Phil's side.

"Ow! Woman!" he bellowed.

"Are you going to boa-constrictor me to death?" I snapped. "Shit, let me help the poor woman take care of your friend!" I slapped a bulging bicep, and he released me.

"I don't want you to leave," he stated grumpily.