Never Met a Girl Like Her | ✔️

(20)

H E A T H

Leonie went down. One minute she was stumbling and the next I was holding up her full weight while she sagged in my arms. I quickly laid her on a clear space on the floor, wincing because it wasn't clean, but whatever. I was checking her pulse when a small group gathered and crouched beside us.

"What the hell happened?" Jess slurred, I looked at her and noticed that she couldn't focus at all.

"She threw back two tequila shots and she was already wrecked," I explained and lifted her lids to check her pupils. "I think she's alright. Just too much. She'll probably have a vomit and sleep."

"Are you sure?" Jess sounded panicked and I looked between her and Bray. There was a third dude too. Pale with a dark blonde fringe across his forehead.

He was watching Leonie.

"Yeah," I looked back at Jess. "But you should slow down unless you wanna end up the same way."

Bray got a bit lower and looked Leonie over. "I'll put her in the spare bedroom, yeah. She can sleep it off."

Bray was fine. He wasn't a bad egg. He was a little drunk and clueless though. There was no way that I was going to leave Leonie in a spare bedroom, in a house full of strangers where she could get assaulted. Or end up dead because no one was watching her.

"I'll take her home," I said and lifted her into my arms. Her head hung back and her hair flowed. Despite being drunk and out of her damn head, she still managed to look beautiful.

"No," Jess planted herself in front of us as I went for the door. "Freddie will see her and flip out! He'll call her mom. She can't go home."

"Who's Freddie?"

"Her door man!"

"Oh. Well, I'll take her back to mine then," I shrugged. Mom was on night shift and if Sarah was up, she wouldn't say anything.

"Please look after her," Jess seemed like a good friend. Her concern was genuine.

I smiled and nodded. "Of course. Slow down, alright? Have some water."

She agreed and the three of them watched me as I left. Outside, I manoeuvred the passenger door open and slid her into the seat, fastening her belt while she groaned and smacked her dry lips together.

"I know it doesn't feel good," I murmured, pushing her hair back from her face. "I've got you."

Despite the fact that this was self inflicted, I still felt bad for her. Tequila was never a good idea. Especially on top of other alcohol. I'd been there before. The feeling of having zero control over your body. The sick, spinning feeling. Being so beyond drunk that you remember what it was like to be sober and wished that you could be.

The worst.

On the way home, she threw up. I managed to pull the car over and we weren't on the main road which was a relief. Most of it apart from a splash that landed on the seat, went into the gutter. I held her hair back and rubbed her back. She kept trying to get away from me, like she was embarrassed. But I wouldn't have it.