Playing Dirty(18)

Lizzy was sprawled out on the floor, but she looked relatively sober by this point. There was vomit—all over the room. The lid of the toilet was up and I could see brown and yellow splashes on the inside of the rim. Wrinkling my nose at the acrid scent of bile, I stepped closer.

“Lizzy, it’s me,” I said softly. “I think we might have to take you to the hospital.”

Lizzy glared at me. “I know who you are,” she said in a hoarse voice. Groaning, she tried to lift herself up. I rushed forward and grabbed her under the arms, helping her back towards the toilet. As Lizzy leaned over the bowl and gushed a torrent of vomit, I pushed her light brown hair away from her forehead.

“Feeling any better?”

She leaned back and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I feel like shit,” she said in the same voice. “Don’t ever let me drink around those assholes ever again.” Her head lolled forward and I reached forward to hold her chin in an upright position.

“I really think we need to go to the hospital,” I said, looking back at the player who’d been in here with her. “She seems really sick, and I’m worried about her passing out and choking.”

“She was already passed out, lass,” the bulky footballer said. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I’ll go get Jay.”

I nodded my thanks and turned my attention back to my inebriated sister. She was bracing herself against the porcelain structure, head propped up on the bowl. I tried not to make a face but I couldn’t help it—I wasn’t good around vomit. Then again, who was? The smell alone made me want to vomit myself.

“I don’t wanna go to the hospital,” Lizzy whined. “Please, Kate, don’t make me go.”

“You’re going, and that’s that,” I said firmly. Lizzy moaned and lowered her head as she retched into the bowl again.

“No,” she said, but she didn’t resist when I tried to pull her body away from the toilet. “No, Kate, let me go, please.”

“Sorry,” I said as I stroked her hair. “I’m worried you’ve got alcohol poisoning. Better safe than sorry.”

“Rubbish,” Lizzy mumbled. She curled up in the fetal position on the floor.

“Everything okay?” Jay’s voice floated over the two of us. “How is she, Kate?”

I turned to him and was shocked at the level of concern on his face. If he wasn’t a world-famous football player, I would have thought he was an actor. His forehead was creased and his blue eyes were keenly focused on Lizzy’s prone figure.

“She’s not great,” I admitted. “I’m going to take her to the hospital. Can you call a cab for us?”

Jay shook his head. “Don’t be bloody ridiculous,” he said. “I’ll drive the both of you. And don’t worry, I barely had one drink—I can drive safely. Come on,” he said, gently nudging me to the side. “I’ll carry her.”

I wanted to protest, but watching Jay carefully heft my sister into his arms robbed me of words. He gently cradled Lizzy, propping her head up on his shoulder and carrying her past me as if she weighed nothing at all. An unpleasant sensation, something like jealousy, wormed its way through me. Don’t be stupid, Kate, I told myself. You just met this guy, and he’s carrying your sister because she can’t walk. Don’t be jealous. It’s not a good look for casual flings. I stopped for a moment. A casual fling? Is that what this was? Yeah, in your dreams, I replied in my mind. You know a guy like him would never want to hang around with you for too long. Flavor of the week, that’s what you are.

Or the day, more like it.

“My motor’s outside,” Jay said in a quiet voice. “I’ll bring her out and put her in the backseat.”

“Thank you,” I said softly as I watched Jay carry Lizzy outside. I was struck again by the sheer size of him: he was so muscular that his body didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. My mouth went dry as I watched the muscles in his back work as he balanced Lizzy carefully while opening the door.

Shaking my head, I blinked and followed Jay outside. I knew there was no use in getting caught up in how sexy he was, but I couldn’t help it. Whenever I was around him, I felt something pulling me towards him. Yeah, you and about a million other girls, I thought wryly.

Jay drove a late-model Mercedes but it wasn’t as flashy as I would have expected. It looked very much like a normal car; the kind a relatively successful doctor or lawyer would drive. Definitely not the car of a world famous footballer. I bet he probably had a whole garage full of cars, and maybe this was the ‘seduce her by making her think I’m oh-so-practical’ car. I snorted at the thought as I tried to stop myself from letting out a laugh at such an inappropriate moment.