‘Told you,’ he grunted. ‘Now stop wriggling and let me help you.’ His words brooked no nonsense.
Ugh. Accepting my fate, I sagged in his hold, letting him take me into the bathroom and plop me on top of the counter by the sink.
‘Light,’ George warned, a second before the overhead light nearly blinded me. I winced against the assault.
‘You don’t need to stay.’ I rubbed my eyes, smudging my mascara all over the place.
Why didn’t those words sound convincing?
George ignored my comment as he crouched down and began rummaging around in my bathroom cabinet.
‘What are you doing?’ I peered down at the broad expanse of his back. His hair was mussed, strands sticking up at odd angles.
Don’t run your fingers through it.
My grip on the porcelain countertop tightened.
He stood up, a bottle of makeup remover in one hand and a cotton pad in the other. He didn’t answer my question, simply doused the pad in the liquid. One hand went to my thigh to separate my legs so he could stand between them. He threaded a hand to the back of my neck, keeping me steady, and with a gentleness that nearly made tears crest in my eyes, he started cleaning all the makeup from my face.
His forehead creased in concentration. Brow furrowed in determination, he swiped the pad all over my skin, being extra careful around my eyes.
‘I can do that,’ I whispered, making no move to stop him.
George’s eyes locked with mine. An emotion I couldn’t read flashed across his face. ‘On any other day, you probably could, but right now, you can’t even take a single step without falling over. And I just found you at the worst club in the city, sucking face with a stranger and smelling like puke. So, Rosie, do me a favour; be quiet and let me look after you.’
My back stiffened.
‘You’re angry.’ It was a surprise because George didn’t get angry… ever. He was the stoic wall you rested on when you needed a break. The hand you held when you were nervous; the voice of reason when you needed it. Rarely did I see the vein throbbing in his temple, jaw clenched so tight he looked ready to grind his teeth to dust.
He tore his gaze from mine and focused on finishing the task at hand.
He said nothing.
‘At me?’ My soft utterance seemed to let some of the air out of George’s frustration. He sighed, collected the used pads, and tossed them into the bin in the corner of the room.
‘You want me to answer that honestly?’
He folded his arms over his chest. My eyes dipped down to his jumper. The logo I hadn’t been able to identify in the dark was clear as day. The emblem of his brother's football club stood out bright red against the dark grey hoodie. Always a supporter. Always the dependable one.
A sad smile played on my lips. ‘You just did.’
He exhaled a weighty breath. ‘Yeah, I’m angry at you, Rosie. Do you realise how fucking dangerous of a situation you were in tonight? You could have been seriously hurt.’
‘But I wasn’t.’
‘Thistime.’
I couldn’t take the disappointment on his face. The anger that morphed his handsome features and made me shrink to two feet tall. I didn’t buckle under, and when my head wasn’t swimming in liquor, I would have no problem going toe to toe with George. But Drunk Rosie was fragile and feeling more than a little sorry for herself.
I heaved a sigh and slid off the counter. George instinctively reacted, reaching out to steady me. One hand slid to my waist. Not in the mood to be coddled, I shifted out of his reach and fumbled with the zip of my dress.
Exhaustion pulled my eyelids closed. It took a few tugs, but finally, the silky material pooled at my feet.
‘Jesus Christ, Rosie.’ George averted his eyes and placed a hand over his mouth.
It was the kind of dress that meant wearing a bra had been a no-go, so I stood in nothing but a black lace thong.
I padded out of the bathroom and into my adjoining bedroom, glad that my feet had finally figured out how to work—albeit slowly—and flopped onto my bed. My head hit the pillow, and all the dizziness from earlier settled as I nestled into the duvet. If life had any decency, I would wake up tomorrow, and this entire night would be nothing but a bad dream.
