*Trisha*

I watch the live after-concert interview on the monitor from inside the venue. E.T. reporter Allison Newton practically gushes over Nate, just like every other damn journalist who gets the chance to interview him. Gavin, the Safe Haven video cameraman, keeps a low profile but still manages to capture footage as Nate takes the spotlight during the last-minute interview.

Nate looks good. Freshly showered, dressed to impress, and glowing from an outstanding performance, he's in his element while the reporters swoon, trying to keep her cool while asking him questions.

"Your setlist had some surprises tonight...especially the acoustic versions of 'Falling Through Time' and 'Safe Haven.' What made you switch it up?"

 "I wanted to change my way a little, to strip it down, make it raw. Both songs mean a lot to me, especially Safe Haven, and I wanted the audience to feel every word. Judging by the way they sang it back, I think they did."

Nate did well tonight.  Slowed things down when needed to catch his breath and it went unnoticed by the crowd. Playing a few songs acoustically was smart on his part and worked to his advantage.

"And what's next for you? You have four more sold-out shows here at MSG. Any new music?"

"Oh, you know me," Nate laughs his contagious British laugh earning a flirty smile from the reporter. "I never stop. More shows, more music, and maybe even a few unexpected collaborations. Let's just say, if you thought tonight was big, you haven't seen anything yet."

"We'll hold you to that! Nate Hollan, thank you for your time, and congrats again on an unforgettable night." The blonde bombshell leans against him a little but Nate only smiles brightly and wraps it up.

"Thank you! And thank you to every single person who showed up tonight...you made this magic happen." He winks and is quickly escorted away by a team of bodyguards, including Evan. God the man looks good when he's on the job....all professional and shit.

Once Nate gets back inside, we all head to the rear lot to pile into the SUV and make our way to the hotel. Something's nagging at me like I missed doing something today. I look in front of me and make sure I have my computer bag. Then lift a little in my seat and make sure my phone is in my back pocket. What the hell did I forget?

"Are you missing something, Miss Banks?" Evan raises a brow at me, watching me rummage through my bag in search of...well. I'm not sure what I'm searching for, to be honest. 

"Yeah. I feel like I forgot something. But I didn't. Or forgot to do something...." I scratch the back of my head and look out the window.

"Do you want me to have the driver turn around?"

"No, no. It's fine. We'll be back there tomorrow either way." I sigh. God, what the fuck did I forget to do?

The car ride is a silent one, with all of us being pretty tired after a long day. Casey has fallen asleep on Jonah's shoulder, and Nate's eyes are closed with his head against the window. Evan is the only one fully alert when pulling into the hotel's private entrance. As usual, we remain in the SUV while Evan steps out to greet the staff handling our check-in and the security team assigned to ensure Nate's safety. Once we get the green light, we groggily climb out of the car. The air is colder than I thought it would be, and a chill makes me shiver. My sweater...maybe that's what I forgot back at the venue.

"Greetings, Mr. Hollan. You'll be staying in the top-floor penthouse suite." A twentysomething-year-old man who reminds me of James begins escorting us into the private entrance of the hotel. I feel a pit in my stomach thinking about James. His carefree attitude, and contagious laugh. How nothing ever seems to bother him. I push the sadness back and try to concentrate on what the staff is saying.

"This is your private elevator, and your private room key that only you and one other of your choosing will have." The guy says, handing two keys. Nate immediately gives me the extra one which surprises me just a little. I mean, he always gives me the spare but I figured since his arrhythmia has been acting up a little, he'd want to give Jonah the key. Either way, I take it.

"Evan, watch over Trish. There's no need to have a bodyguard up there if I'm the only one who has access." Nate yawns, and I inhale sharply. I wonder if Evan ever minds sharing personal space with me. He never says anything, but I don't think he ever would. We all quietly go our separate ways to our rooms to get some much-needed rest. Two bodyguards and two staff members follow Nate to his room to make sure it is to his liking, and I roll my eyes at Nate. My high-maintenance best friend. 

Like Paul, when Evan unlocks our door, he walks in and makes sure the place is safe before letting me enter. Our luggage for the week is already in the foyer, and as I glance around the room, I notice once again that there's only one bed. My eyes dart to Evan, but I get no read on him. I guess he's just used to sharing a bed with me now, too.

"Do you mind if I take a quick shower before you take over?" Evan asks, fully aware that I take ages once I claim the bathroom.

"Be my guest. I'm gonna unpack and figure out what the hell I forgot." I lift my heavy suitcase to lay on the bed and open it. From the side of my eye, I see Evan pull out his gun from its concealed holster and grab his lockbox out of his duffel bag to store it. He then places the box in the nightstand drawer. He does this every night but every night I still stiffen up at the sight of it.

"You'll get used to it, sooner or later." He senses my nervousness.

"I know." I feel my cheeks flush with the realization that he noticed me.

 "Maybe once we are back home, I'll take you to the shooting range again. You were comfortable after that, right?" Evan cocks a brow and waits for me to answer before closing the bathroom door.

"Yeah, that was a lot of fun." I nod, peeling my eyes away from the nightstand, trying not to make a big deal out of it, and the bodyguard disappears into the bathroom.

While sitting at the vanity with a shitload of make-up wipes in an attempt to scrub off the night, my mind still spins on something I've forgotten to do. I decide to text Nate to make sure he has everything he needs, but get no answer. Knowing him, he's probably taking a friggen bath being the little fish he is. 

I then change into a tank top and pajama pants, crawl into bed, and text Paul. Again, no answer. I'm not surprised with that one since he is dealing with Moretti and all her shit. Evan comes out minutes later, freshly showered and smelling fucking amazing, and without hesitation now, climbs into his side of the bed.

"Did you figure out what you forgot, ma'am?" He asks, resting one arm behind his head, giving me a perfect display of his bare chest and abs. The fucker does it on purpose now, doesn't he? Just like calling me ma'am.

"Nope. Can't figure it out for the life of me.  I tried calling Nate, but he didn't answer. He's probably already asleep."

"Trish-" Evan's heavy eyes look over at me like he wants to say something, but he second-guesses himself for a second. 

"What?" I prop my head up and give him a sarcastic little look.

"Is Mr. Hollan always that tired after shows?" Scofield's concern for Nate is growing. Even he notices the shift...the sluggishness, the weariness creeping in. Nate's health is changing, and it's becoming impossible to ignore. Another thing I keep pushing to the back of my head. I flop to my back with a sigh and close my eyes. 

"No. Not like this."

*****

Forty-five more minutes go by of me tossing and turning while Evan is fast asleep. I decide to text Nate one more time to make sure all is fine up there but once again get no response. With the last thing Evan and I talked about being Nate's health, my mind wanders to the worst-case scenario. 

I turn on the small lamp on my side of the bed, and then to the bodyguard. I study his face. His perfect light brown beard was shaped to perfection. The way his brows sometimes furrow a little when he sleeps, like he's having a bad dream but not bad enough to react. He hasn't moved position once. Left arm is behind his head while his right hand rests right below his belly button, at the edge of the waistband of his joggers. I bite my bottom lip at the sight of him and scoot in a little closer.

"Evan. You awake?" I whisper close to his ear with no response. God, I could so kiss those perfect lips right now. No, knock it off.

I want to go up and check on Nate, but know I can't leave without Evan. I also don't want to startle him. The man was in the army, which has taught him control. Like most people in the military who have served time, it also brings along some  PTSD nightmares of a past he tries to forget.  Waking someone like Evan too suddenly is asking for trouble... Years of instinct wouldn't just disappear. So instead, I take a quieter approach, shifting slightly on the bed, moving closer to the sleeping bodyguard.

"Evan," I say gently, and watch him stir. I run my fingers through his hair, something I probably should NOT be doing but do anyway. His eyes slowly shift but then snap open, scanning the room like he's assessing a threat. Then, recognition settles in, and the tension in his frame eases.

"What's wrong? Are you ok?" His voice is hoarse already, even though he's only been sleeping for less than an hour.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." I whisper, realizing I'm still threading my fingers through his brown hair. Evan relaxes into my touch, still clearly half asleep, but doesn't move. Just- looks at me. His eyes flicker to my lips, but only for a moment. 

"Miss Banks."

Right. He's wondering what the hell I'm doing and why I woke him up, isn't he?

"Can you bring me to check on Nate? He hasn't answered my texts." I ask. Evan's face hardens slightly at my request, catching me off guard, but sits up and nods. 

"Yes, of course." He runs a hand down his face. I can't help but wonder if he assumed I meant something different, and hearing me want to check on Nate was a disappointment. Either way, Nate and I always say goodnight to each other, and his ignoring me has me on edge.

Not caring about my appearance, I stay in my pajamas while Evan throws on a T-shirt and sneakers, escorting me up to the penthouse suite.

I knock on Nate's door, clutching my key tightly just in case he doesn't respond and something's wrong.

 "Hey. You awake in there?" I ask, feeling Evan's presence right behind me. Nate opens the door within seconds, looking very disheveled. His hair is a mess, like he's been gripping it in frustration and a thin layer of sweat coats his face and bare chest.

"All set, Miss. Banks?" Evan is exhausted. I stare at Nate, trying to figure out what's wrong, and wave the bodyguard off so he can go back to sleep.

"I tried texting you." I squint my eyes at Nate, look around the room, and then back to him. "You ok, playboy?"

"Why are you here?" He snaps. Moody bastard.

"What's the matter? You don't look so hot." I place my hand on his forehead, which is noticeably clammy, but he swats me away.

"I'm fine. Why are you here?"

"I... I don't know. I can't sleep. I feel like I forgot to do something. I don't know what, but it's been nagging me all night. I tried texting you, but you didn't answer. What's going on up here?" I furrow my brows.

"Yeah, you fucking forgot to do something all right." Nate hisses. He turns his back on me, points to the side, and then walks out onto the balcony, slamming the slider closed behind him.

I gasped at what he pointed to. "Oh my God. FUCK!" My hand slaps over my mouth. That's what I forgot to do. Oh my God!! I completely forgot to call the hotel and make sure there was no alcohol in Nate's room. I have never, NEVER made a mistake like this.

I unlock my phone and call Evan, telling him to come back up, which he does within seconds.

"What is it, Trisha?" He walks into the room with concern.

"I fucked up!" I cry out. "He can't be near that shit and I fucked up!!" My hand flies to the minifridge, and my tears roll down. "Can you help me get rid of all this?"

Evan's eyes widen and he inhales sharply, taking inventory of all the many bottles of expensive liquor. We can't just dump all this out. The hotel will not only charge us for it but that's how rumors start. Nate Hollan,  back to drinking. 

"I fucked up!" I cry again as if no other words will come to me, and look out towards the balcony. Nate is leaning on the railing, his head dropped, and his shoulders moving slightly. He's crying. I'm standing here in the middle of the suite, frozen and Nate is out there crying. Struggling. And it's all my fucking fault for not doing my fucking job.

I feel two strong hands on my shoulders and realize I'm not just crying. I'm sobbing from my mistake.

"Hey. He didn't drink anything. Everything is accounted for, Trisha. Ok?" Evan squeezes my shoulders, and I nod. "Now, help me bag all this up to bring down to the front office."

"Ok." I breathe out. "Yeah, ok."

We find a plastic bag used for laundry in the closet and carefully get rid of at least fifty small bottles of poison. Evan calls the front desk to let them know he's bringing down the alcohol. I listen to him telling the workers not to refill the minifridge with any liquor for the rest of Nate's stay. He rattles off Nate's favorite brand of ginger ale, sparkling waters, and juices and demands that the fridge be stocked with those drinks instead. He handles my job for me while I sit here crying for my best friend.

I watch Evan take the plastic bag out of my hand and study me for a moment. "You good?"

"Yeah. Jesus. Yeah, I'm gonna stay here with him. I fucked up, now I gotta deal with it. Thanks for your help." I wipe my eyes. 

"For the night? Or are you going to text me when you are ready to come back down?" The bodyguard questions and I see that tiny hint of coldness appear again.

"I'll just sleep up here. Thanks, Scofield." 

Evan gives me a slight nod, pivots, and exits the suite with all the booze. I drop my head back and close my eyes for a moment. I take a moment to gather my courage, knowing Nate is about to lay into me, before sliding the door open to the balcony.

Nate turns around and, to my surprise, throws his arms around me.

"Me and Evan got rid of everything. I'm so sorry," I croak out, still crying, and bury my head against his bare chest. "Fuck, Nate I'm so sorry."

Nate stays silent at first but holds me a bit tighter and lets out his tears before eventually pulling away.

"That won't happen again." I look down at the ground, knowing I failed big time.

"No, it won't." The sternness in Nate's voice doesn't go unnoticed but at the same time, He combs his fingers through my hair and tilts my chin up to look at him. "C'mon angel, let's go to bed."

I let Nate take my hand and pull me back inside. He closes and locks the slider door, then glances at the now-empty fridge.

"Evan called down to the front desk. They won't restock it. I'm so sorry. I don't know how I let that slip." My words catch in my throat, my tears still streaming down at a steady pace, knowing this could have been a disaster. A life-altering move in the wrong direction for Nate. Because of me. Me and my fucking inability to do my fucking job.

"I almost-" He shakes his head and looks away from the mini-fridge. I place my hands on his face, pulling him down to my level.

"But you didn't. Ok? Christ, sweetie. I'm so sorry." I apologize again and kiss his cheek.

"That fucked with my head, Trish." He breathes heavily. I gently wipe the tears from beneath his eyes right before Nate crashes his mouth to mine. 

Everything moves quickly. Hands and clothes everywhere. Nate is desperate to escape what he just encountered. He's trying to push away thoughts of his addiction and what might have happened. He turns to me as his way to escape it all.

And I let him. Why? Because he's Nate. My best friend. Maybe more than that to me though I know where we stand.