“Connie decided it would be a good idea to drink herself into an early grave. Orla found her up here, found me, and I’ve spent the last half an hour trying to find you so you can get her the fuck home.”

“Right—yeah—okay, right.” I knelt down next to Connie, shaking her arm. “O’Reilly?”

“Al?” she managed to slur.

“Do you think you could stand up?”

The lack of response told me that was a no. I placed an arm around her and managed to haul her limp body to her feet, and Molly came to my aid with an arm around her waist. Orla barked at those on the landing to clear out of their way in a voice that sent them scurrying, and with relative ease we managed to drag her down the stairs and out the front door.

Julia was sitting on the porch, a cup in her hand. She smiled up at me before rising to her feet.

“Everything okay?”

I motioned to Connie with my chin. “We have to, er—take off. Connie’s not feeling the best.”

“Ah, already?”

I nodded, eyes downcast. “Yeah. Um, look. It was great to meet you,” I muttered, ignoring the way my stomach tightened. “I really wish we didn’t have to leave.”

“I know. It was great to have someone to talk to.” Her lips quirked. “It’s a small town. I’ll make sure to keep an eye out for you.”

“Take care, Jules.”

“Goodbye, Alex. I hope your friend is feeling better soon.”

Careful to keep Connie steady, we headed down the driveway. Without turning back I heard the door shut behind me. “Think you’ll manage the walk to hers?” Molly asked me, but Connie’s head shot up.

“No.”

“What?”

“Not mine,” she muttered. “Not going there.”

I frowned at her. “We’re meant to be staying in yours. All our shit is there.”

“No.”

I sighed, shrugging at Molly. “I’ll just bring her back to mine, I guess.”

Connie leaned into me a little bit more, resting her head on my shoulder. “No more tequila, fuckermother,” she yawned, her voice muffled.

“Agreed. Come on. Do you think you can walk?”

She nodded and I bid the other two a goodbye before we set out toward my house. It was a much further walk to mine than it was to hers, seeing as she lived just a few houses away, but I decided not to question her any further. Neither of us said anything as we walked, her weight leaning down on me as I struggled to keep her upright, but it seemed the more we walked the more capable she became. We finally arrived at my front door and I managed to fish for my key in my back pocket while still keeping a hold on Connie before we stumbled inside, grateful for the fact that Claire was at work. Once in my room, Connie collapsed onto my mattress with a thud and I wanted nothing more than to fall down next to her. I ran back downstairs to pour her a glass of water and when I returned, she had already managed to pull her dress over her head, lying on my bed in her underwear. Averting my eyes, I found her a pair of her own shorts and a tank top, hoping that she wouldn’t need my help in getting them on. I undressed in the bathroom, taking great care to remove all traces of makeup—Christ, she was probably going to kill me in the morning when she realized I hadn’t made her remove her own. Once we were both finally ready, I crawled into the bed next to her, finally feeling the exhaustion overcome me.