Turning my back on him, my eyes raked over Rosie. Her face creased in confusion. Needing to feel her, to know she was okay. I cupped her cheeks in my palms, tilting her head back to look at me. In only thirty minutes, she had somehow managed to get even more drunk. Her eyes were glassy, and all the lipstick she previously wore was smudged around her mouth.
‘George?’ she said my name like a question.
‘I’m here, sweetheart.’
Slipping my hand down her back, I leaned forward, speaking into her ear, ‘Come on, I’ll take you home.’
At the word home, her face collapsed into sadness, andshe gave a mess of nods. She was significantly drunker than she had been half an hour ago on the phone. That Rosie still had the energy to curse me out, this version of her looked ready to crawl into my arms like a cat.
‘Dude. We were in the middle of something.’ The twat from before stood to my left. The advantage of my height and stocky build meant that rarely was someone taller than me, and this hundred-pound squirt had to crane his neck to even look at me directly.
My eyes darted up and down his body as I tucked Rosie into my side. ‘No, you weren’t. Now fuck off,' I ground out, leading her away. Tiny fingers dug into the waistband of my jeans, clinging on.
Finally, out of the throng, we made it outside. I heard her take several deep breaths, like she’d been trapped underground for years. The bouncer took one look at the way Rosie was leaning against me, pissed out of her mind and shook his head, turning away.
Fucking hell.He sees a girl half-cut with a guy and doesn’t even ask if she’s okay. Not for the first time this morning, I forced myself to swallow down my anger.
‘He wasn’t a bad guy,’ she mumbled. Talking about the arsehole who had been mauling her.
Pulling her closer, I asked, ‘You know him?’ I’d bet my liver that I already knew the answer.
Her head shook.Figures.
The street lamps flickered above our heads as I half-walked, half-dragged Rosie to my car. Quickly regretting how far away I parked.
‘Spppinnning.’ Her head lolled into my arm as her eyes pinched closed. ‘Stop spinning.’ Her voice was husky from the alcohol, and based on the faint smell coming from her dress, I’d guess she hurled recently. My hands flexed on herwaist, wanting to pick her up and carry her the rest of the way.
‘I think that’s your head that’s spinning, sweetheart.’ I glanced up and down the street to cross. Several people were falling out of clubs, sitting on the bonnet of cars, smoking, or making out against spray-painted brick walls.
‘No.’ I nearly tripped over my feet when she suddenly dug her heels in, stopping mid-step. Now she wasn’t leaning on me, she wobbled slightly as she regained her balance. ‘Don’t call me that.’ A flicker of defiance danced in her blue eyes. Arms folding over her chest. The move had all the dominance of a toddler shaking its head, refusing to admit it was tired. I swiped a hand down my face to hide my smirk.
‘Why not?’ I’d called her sweetheart since the first night we met. More habit than endearment. However, I’d be lying if I said seeing the flash of heat slide up her pale cheeks whenever I let it slip didn’t keep that word on the tip of my tongue.
Her chin jutted up. ‘Because I don’t like it. And…’ she trailed off, getting distracted. ‘Did you just roll out of bed?’ A frown pinched her brow as she glanced down at my hoodie. It was the first thing I grabbed on my floor when I got her call.
‘Uh uh, you’re not getting out of answering that easily.’ I took a few steps forward. Like the stubborn woman she was, she didn’t move—but tilted her chin up as our eyes locked.
‘I don’t like it, and that should, uh, be…’ Her words dwindled, eyes darting down to my lips. ‘Be enough.’ Her voice dipped down to a whisper.
I lifted a hand to her neck, enjoying how her eyelids fluttered and lips parted. Fuck, if this were any other time, I’d have no problem taking those pouty lips in mine and showing her just how much I enjoyed having her wrapped upin my arms. But she was drunk and not ten minutes ago was necking with another guy.
‘Why have you been ignoring me, Rosie?’ It might be a low blow to ask that question right now when she wasn’t in complete control of her faculties. After months of feeling her absence and not knowing what to do about it, having her this close was too much. A year of dreaming about her, wanting her. And never getting closer than this. She’d put a wall up between us and I was damned if I was going to waste the opportunity to tear it down.
Warm fingers slid under the hem of my hoodie. She pressed her palms against my stomach, and my hand at her neck flexed.
Unfocused eyes dipped down to the centre of my chest. ‘Cause…’ she started, then heaved an aggravated sigh. ‘you’re too nice.’
Half of me had been expecting her to deny the statement altogether. My breath caught as I let her words sink in. She didn’t give me a moment to process before she pulled away with another long groan and started to wobble down the street. Feet moving in opposing directions like a fawn learning how to walk.
‘Ugh, should’ve stayed home,’ she whined.
Snapping back into action, I scooped her back up. She was plastered to my side, her head leaning back to gaze up at me as we walked, but she didn’t pull away again. Accepting my help.
‘Why didn’t you?’ When she looked up at me, confused, I added, ‘Stay home?’
We reached my truck, a two-door contraption with a flat bed, useful for deliveries and hauling large quantities of stock. I opened the door for her.
‘Cause I got lonely,’ she mumbled. ‘Don’t like it… makes me sad.’
