I glared daggers at my friend. ‘I’m this close to leaving you here.’ I held up my thumb and forefinger with a millimetre of space between them.
Rosie smiled happily at me. ‘Nah, You won’t. You love me too much.’ She snuggled into my side, wrapping an arm around my waist. Normally I hated people touching my stomach, but I couldn’t bear to unlatch her and draw anyattention to the area, certainly not with two strangers watching us.
A couple of young uni students were hovering around the dartboard, waiting for us to vacate the pool table area.
‘Come on. We’ve got to go.’ Oliver looked quickly around the bar, tugged down the rim of his hat and pushed past me, knocking my arm as he swept by, heading to the door.
‘Delightful.’ I muttered under my breath.
Getting Rosie into the car took some encouragement from George and a sharp jab in the ribs from me. That was the issue with Rosie; she never knew how drunk she was until she got tired, and then it was like all systems went down. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her legs flopped like a newborn foal. Usually, we stopped drinking long before this happened. But the night had slipped by, and our standard night-out protocols had been scrapped. So for the short drive to my flat, Rosie snuggled close to my side, head lolling on my shoulder, her eyes drooping as she fought sleep.
I gave George directions to my flat, knowing that Rosie would be okay to crash there for the night. My eyes constantly flicked to the silent brooding man in the passenger seat.
Oliver didn’t say a word as we drove. The more questions George asked me and Rosie, the more frustrated Oliver seemed to get. His cap was pulled so low I was surprised he could even see.
What kind of person wore a cap at night time?
The kind that doesn’t want to be seen.
The thought flitted through my head quickly. And I was so desperate to pull out my phone and do some digging that my fingers kept twitching, hovering over the pocket of my jeans where the answers to all my questions lay.
George pulled up outside the fish and chip shop.
‘Uh, are you sure this is the place?’ he said in a dubious tone.
I unbuckled and waited for Rosie to do the same. She did, but it took her drunken fingers a few attempts.
‘Yep, this is me.’
I wasn’t ashamed of where I lived. It was a decent-sized flat for the money I had to pay. Sure, the stench of fried food and oil wafted up every day at around four o’clock, stinking the place out. But it was functional and more to the point; it wasmine.
For how much longer?
If I didn’t have a job, my sanctuary would be jeopardised.
No income meant no rent. No money for rent meant going back to my parent’s house.
Going back there meant psychological trauma I would avoid at all costs.
I dug around for my keys in the car as George helped Rosie out from the other side.
‘You smell amazing,’ she said in a dreamy voice, leaning all her weight onto him.
George chuckled softly, sweeping several strands of her golden hair out of her face as she stared adoringly up at him. ‘Thanks for noticing, sweetheart.’
‘It was nice to see you again. In a less embarrassing situation.’ I told Oliver, who hadn’t turned around or even acknowledged me.
I waited for him to say something… anything. But he made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like a ‘hmph’and continued staring at the street.
When it became apparent that he wouldn’t say anything else, I took my irritation and channelled it into closing the car door.
Stupid rich pricks.
George glanced over his shoulder.
‘Your brother needs to work on his people skills.’ I grumbled, slipping an arm through Rosies and taking the brunt of her weight from him. I slipped my key into the lock as George scratched the back of his head and glanced down at the pavement.
Uncomfortable.
