Rosie holds onto me. Her head drops like she needs sleep. I don’t want to take her home. She needs to be cared for. “I’ll put her to bed so she can sleep it off.”

“Your bed?” she shouts even though I’m next to her mouth. “We’ll go to your bed and finish what we started earlier on your bathroom floor, boss.”

The barman stares at me over her shoulder, his eyebrows touching his fringe.

“You need sleep. Lots of water and sleep.”

She pulls away and reaches for her empty glass. “Where did it go? More vodka, barkeep.”

I grab her around the waist. She squeals with delight when I toss her over my shoulder in a fireman’s lift. “Promise me you won’t be sick until we get outside.”

“Yes, sir.” She giggles. “Now you call me a good girl.”

I huff as I tuck my hand over her floaty dress to stop everyone from seeing her underwear.

What if she’s not wearing underwear?

Her shoes slip from her feet. The barman rushes around and passes them to me. His lips quirk like he’s struggling not to laugh.

I stride through the bustling bar, jostling punters who watch wide-eyed as I carry the giggling woman in a pretty dress. I hold my breath to stop from breathing in germs.

“Niki!” Rosie gasps.

“Yes.” Angel rests on the tip of my tongue.

“You’re not wearing your cap.” She leans over to touch my head, and I firmly press her bum to still her.

Her moan goes straight to my dick. I need to get her safely in bed alone. She’s drunk as hell, and tomorrow we need to have that talk we should’ve had before my dick was in her mouth.

“I haven’t worn a cap since you…since you cut my hair. I rushed out the door to get you.”

“Rescue me,” she corrects with a sigh. “I need to sort this. Wait.”

I don’t know what she’s doing behind me, but suddenly, something sits on my head.

As we reach fresh air, I gulp it down. I tap my head. “What did you do?”

“Leave it on. It looks good. FYI, Niki,” she says sassily, “I want to spend all weekend with your dick inside me.”

“Fucking hell,” I say on a breath, ignoring the way my cock agrees with her.

I open my passenger door and slide her in. My new cowboy hat nearly falls off my head as I click in her seatbelt. Her dress is up to her waist, and I close my eyes, although I can’t stop thinking about the pretty pink knickers I saw for a mini-second.

“Your dress. I can see…” My words die on my dry tongue.

“Oops.” At the sound of her shifting around, I open one eye, and then the other, ensuring it’s safe to look again.

I pass her three paper bags. “If you’re sick, aim in one or all of those.”

I run around and sit in the driver’s seat. I hand her a bottle of water. “Sip that. I’ll drive slowly, but if you need the fan on or for me to go slower, say so.”

“I have one request,” she states, dead-eyeing me. “You let me wear the cowboy hat when we fuck.”

Don’t think about sex with Rosie. Don’t think about her riding you while wearing a cowboy hat.

As we drive towards my home, she rambles about the bar, shows me my ring, which she used to keep men away from her, and talks about her favourite drinks. Her chatter is weirdly comforting. I’ve faced a lot of anxieties today, and I’m concerned about flying to Monaco tomorrow and spending time with my overly inquisitive parents.

“What happened to your rugby team?”

Her mouth turns down. “They ditched me. They’ve got partners now. They stayed for one drink and went home to them.” She fiddles with the hem of her dress. “I’m happy for them, but it makes me sad. I’ve missed out on all the fun everyone my age got to have, and now I’m missing out on the partner bit, too.”

I want to take her in my arms and tell her it’ll be okay, but instead, I do what I should have done earlier. I listen.

“I don’t know if I want to return to old Rosie or find the new one.”

“Can you have both?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure.”

She squeezes my thigh, suggesting she needs the comfort only human touch gives.

“Do you want both?”

She sighs and sets her jaw. “I used to want to be a rugby coach, then a sports psychologist, but I’m a single mum, and as much as I want it all, what I want doesn’t matter. Everything comes back to Tabi, who I’m raising alone.” She grips her seatbelt and huffs before muttering, “Twenty-three and this is all I’ll have.”

I lift the cowboy hat off my head and place it on hers. “You can be whatever you want to be, and I’ll help you get there.”

“Even a cowgirl?” she whispers.

“Even a cowgirl.”