Shayla tries to shush Penny again, and for a moment I worry she’s going to lose her patience, but suddenly she pulls up short and grabs my arm. “There’s Fuzz. Over by the speaker with Jake.”

She waves her hand in the air and catches Fuzzy’s attention.

“He’s coming.” She turns to me. “How do I look? Girly enough?”

My eyes drift over her cargo pants, kicks, and death metal shirt emblazoned with a flaming skull. “Nice. But maybe take out the ponytail.”

With a sigh, Shayla pulls out her ponytail holder and shakes her head. “How’s this?”

“You still look like you’re a commando at a death metal concert,” Penny says. “Not so good for picking up guys.”

“And you look like you’re clubbing on someone’s yacht.” Shayla gives a disdainful sniff at Penny’s white skirt, matching kitten heels, and gold tank. “I don’t do that kind of girly anymore. I packed it all away when I hung up my tutu and started on the ’roids. Didn’t last long on those. Messed me up pretty bad.”

Penny’s eyes widen. “You were taking steroids? I’ve always wanted to try them, bulk up a bit. How did they work out for you?”

“Who’s taking ’roids?” Fuzzy says as he and Jake join us. I make the introductions and Shayla shoots us a pleading glance. If anyone found out she had taken steroids, she could lose her fight license.

“Me,” a quick-thinking Penny says brightly.

Fuzzy stares down at her curvy, five-foot-four-inch frame that, according to Penny, has never seen a gym, and gives her an incredulous look. “You’re taking ’roids?”

“That’s right.” She flexes her soft, pasty arms. “Lookit these pythons. ’Roids all the way.”

Shayla bursts into laughter. Not just a giggle or a chuckle or even a guffaw. Real, uncontrollable, straight-from-the-belly, tears-pouring-down-your-cheeks laughter.

Fuzzy’s gaze cuts to her. His eyes linger over her soft, chestnut waves. He smiles. Then his smile fades into a frown.

“Christ,” he mutters. “Almost didn’t recognize you there, Shill. Did you wash your hair?” He gives her a friendly thump on the back and her laughter dries up with a choke.

Jake’s arms slide around me and he pulls me back into his chest. “Your idea,” he whispers in my ear, gesturing toward Shayla.

“No, she pulled out her ponytail holder all on her own.”

Jake laughs. “Nice try.”

“I thought you were angry with me for trying to seduce you.” I look back over my shoulder and he rests his cheek against my forehead. “Except for the tickets, I haven’t heard from you in two days.”

“I didn’t hear from you for two days either.”

“This is true, but I have an excuse. I’m insanely busy at work. My witness gave me a list of women who may also have been harassed by Farnsworth, and I’ve already got another interview lined up. You’ll be pleased to know Ray has checked the addresses and marked the interviews he wishes to attend in the guise of a guard dog.”

“I’m pleased.” Jake’s hands slide down over my abdomen, his fingers resting in a V just over my mound. “And I’ll be more pleased if you followed my instructions.” His breath is hot and moist in my ear and a delicious shiver of anticipation winds its way up my spine. After only a few hours without my panties, I’m already so wet I’m afraid my arousal will trickle down my inner thigh. Not that I would tell him.

“Why would I follow your instructions when you made it clear you have…limits? Maybe I’m not up for another tickle and tease.”

He tightens his arms and presses his lips against my ear. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna take care of you tonight.”

My body heats. “Well in that case, I have a surprise for you.”

Taking a quick glance around, he slides his hand between us and surreptitiously lifts my skirt to fondle my bare ass. “Is my surprise under here?”

“Beast.” I slap his hand away. “You’ll have to wait.”

A ripple of excitement runs through the crowd as the warm-up band hits the stage. The lead guitarist grabs his guitar and the first few notes of a death metal guitar riff fill the room.

“Eeeeeee!” shrieks Penny. “It’s the warm-up band. I want to be up front.” She holds her hands together like a battering ram and shoves her way forward through the thicket of long, stringy hair, faded jeans, tattoos, and piercings.

“C’mon, Shill,” Fuzzy mutters. “We’d better get her. She’s so tiny, she’ll get crushed.”

With a defeated sigh, Shayla follows Fuzzy through the crowd.

Jake nuzzles my neck. “You want a drink?”

“Sure.”

A few minutes later, we’re pressed up against the bar, a temporary wooden structure that looks like it could collapse at any moment. If not for Jake’s strength and determination, we would never have made it through the crowd. Even now he has one hand braced against the counter and his back to the heaving mass of people to give us breathing room.

The bartender shoves two cups of beer—the only item on offer—in our direction and I wrinkle my nose.

Jake laughs. “Still not a fan?”

“Not really. Especially if it’s warm, which I’m guessing it is.” I dip my finger in the cup and pop it in my mouth. The beer is indeed warm and very bitter, but the heat in Jake’s eyes as I slide my lips over my finger makes it easy to swallow.