Bee pushed the stranger and scrambled to the nearest toilet.

The bile rose, burning her chest and throat as it came out. She retched as fat, uncontrollable tears streamed down her cheeks. With shaking hands, she tried to keep her hair from falling into the toilet.

It wasn't there.

The stranger knelt, keeping her hair at the nape of her neck while half shielding her body. Once she noticed his presence, she noticed the feel of his hard chest pressed against his back and the steady rise and fall of it. He rubbed circles on her back, whispering again in a language she didn't understand. She shivered, head throbbing more from the clash of sensations.

"I'm...okay?" She croaked.

"Hmm." Came a soft rumble.

Another wave of nausea lurched her back into the land of bad decisions. Wiping her mouth with a napkin, she stared at the glass of water that seemed to have materialized along with the napkins.

"Drink," he said. "Not in one go."

She took the emerald glass from his hand and for a moment their fingers brushed. She swallowed, the sips of water going down like stones in a deep well.

The stranger had taken his shirt off, exposing broad shoulders and a toned masculine torso. Bee almost sputtered at the realization.

Why is a dude half naked? And what is that smell?

Bee scanned the bathroom. Under the florescent lights, the mess she'd made were easy to spot. On the floor, near the sink and rimming the toilet. And oversized shirt lay crumpled near the tub.

His shirt.

She felt herself flush. "I threw up on you?"

"Yup." He said, popping the 'p'.

Mortified, her gaze fell on the tattoo of a snake coiled around his biceps. The artist depicted the scales in detail. In a way it looked as the stranger had been born with it etched on his skin. The tip of snake's tongue darted, painted mid-motion.

"Did it hurt?"

The stranger frowned. "What did?"

Bee waved in his general direction. "The tats."

A curious expression flitted across his face. "I suppose."

When he didn't elaborate, Bee clambered to her feet and flushed the toilet in hope of lessening the stench. The stranger remained sitting cross-legged, elbows propped on knees. Bee followed the intricate patterns around his wrists, the woven lines on his pecs. They were not familiar yet Bee aches to touch, trace them with her fingertips.

"See something you like?"

At the sound of his voice, she realized she'd leaned a hand hovering. She dropped it by her side and kept her focus on the bright linoleum.

"Uh. I like your tattoos."

"I like your freckles."

Bee's head snapped up. In school she got into the habit of covering up the freckles dusting her nose and the top of her cheeks. Kids called them gross and Jared commented she was pretty without them. Was the strange dude mocking her?

"I." She shook her head and immediately wished she didn't. Did she have any Brufin left?

"You need to go. I don't even know your name, and this is weird."

He arched an eyebrow. "Weird because you don't know my name?"

"No. My grandad isn't here. And lots of reasons."

In the same flat tone he said, "Fire away."

Bee didn't really care as long as he left her alone so she'd sleep and pretend the day had never happened.

"I'm tired and hungry. And you..."She was rambling. "You're weird."

The amber eyes didn't waver. "Zachrey."

"What?"

"Are these all your questions?"

"No!" Bee rubbed her forehead; a headache was on the horizon. Whatever was in the flask steamroller her. "Who shows up like this? And who's Zachrey?"

"My name," he said in slow monotone. "Is Zach."

Bee huffed.

One minute he's being all gangster, the next he's taking care of her while she barfed then he's speaking to her like she's the oddball.

"And I got mugged." He ran a hand through his hair, finding a few sticky stands and grimacing.

Bee the urge to gag. She might've grossed the guy for life and he's hot but it didn't mean he should be there. What if he's some kind of psycho who kills women for kicks?

"Alright," Zach said. "Listen." He stopped as if searching for the right word. "What's your name?

Bee crossed her arms. "You don't need my name."

"No," he agreed. "What I need is a shower."

Bee gaped at him. "You're not serious."

Zach sighed. "You can go in first if the one in the master bedroom is bust. I can wait."

"How...did you know there is another bathroom?"

He shrugged. The snake on his biceps shifted. "I stayed here for months."

"Didn't see you."

"Neither did I see you. Can we skip the pleasantries after we're clean?"

"Shouldn't you file a report and catch the 'muggers'." Bee made air quotes when she said 'muggers'.

In a fluid movement, Zach stood to his full height. Bee took an involuntary step back.

"Yeah, because they're so damn efficient," Zach grumbled.

He turned the faucet on and put his head under the tap. Bee watched droplets of water run down his back, disappearing in the fabric of the soiled sweats. He came up for air and pressed on the soap dispenser, lathering his palms before going for his thick locks.

"What're you doing?"

"What does it look like?" Pools of water missed in hand soap pooled at his feet. "Don't mind if you stay and watch."

Bee looked over shoulders. She had to charge her phone and call someone for help.

Not Jared. She was mortified enough.

"There are lilies on the bedpost. Some of logs too."

"Huh?"

Zack turned. "I craved them there. Check for proof. Michael let me stay here."

"Why would grandad let you stay? He hasn't worked in a while and the lawyer didn't say anything about this."

Bee expected him to ask about the lawyer. If he were a long-lost relative that thought he'd be entitled to an inheritance, that is.

To her surprise he didn't. "Your grandfather." Zach blinked soap out of his eye. "Is Michael your grandfather?"

Duh. "Yeah."

Zach gripped the sink, head bowed. Bee wanted to ask if he was okay but suspected the guy might be on drugs what with the rags and tats.

"Lock the door behind you and I'll knock when I'm done. No chance of danger if I'm locked in."

"Th—"

"Please." He pleaded, voice hoarse. "I will leave. Just. Please give me this."

The request was simple, and Bee turned on her heels putting distance and a locked bathroom between them. She fired up her phone and dialed Grace's number.

Please. Zach's defeated plea echoed in her mind. 

"Hey birthday girl!" Grace squealed. "What's up?"