I narrowed my eyes. ‘This corner is extremely well lit.’
Rory threw his hands up, exasperated. ‘You know exactly what I mean.’ He sat down and perched where Daniel and I had been sitting moments before. ‘Look. I know you’ve had a shit week. Harriet told me what happened.’
I briefly considered the betrayal but after all that had happened tonight, I probably didn’t have a leg to stand on.
‘Don’t be mad at her. She had to explain the code red phone call. I thought it was a practical joke at first. Penny Webber does not tend to cause code reds.’
I snorted. ‘Does she not?’
‘I think the last time was about five years ago, when Maeve called to tell me you’d assumed jelly shots weren’t alcoholic.’ He paused. ‘Isaac’s a prick if he can’t see how brilliant you are. He’ll regret it, I’m sure.’
In getting carried away with a handsome stranger, I’d forgotten all about my motives for getting drunk. Now, that sinking feeling returned to my stomach. Alongside a horrific swirling motion, which I could only hope wasn’t about to bring the prosecco earth side.
Rory continued, his voice a little bit firmer. ‘But it isn’t Level’s fault, Penny, it’s his.’
‘Harriet told you a lot of things, didn’t she?’ I crossed my arms.
‘She’s not used to calling me in a crisis, that’s for sure.’ He tilted my chin upwards, looking me right in the eye. ‘This is going to feel better in the morning, I promise. Rejection is the hardest thing in the world. Trust me on that one. Now come on, let’s go.’ He took my arm and pivoted me in the direction of the exit, causing me to stumble slightly.
‘Whoa there.’ He steadied me. ‘How many glasses did you have?’
I’d lost count after the fifth. ‘Lots?’
He shook his head. ‘What am I going to do with you?’
I considered getting him to drop me off at my flat, lying in bed and being finally alone to process Isaac’s dumping.
‘Can I stay with you?’
Rory swallowed, and for a moment I thought he might say no. ‘Sure. But only if you let me feed you first. You’re going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.’
I had visions of cheesy chips. ‘I am not against that plan.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Didn’t think so. Come on.’
***
If anything could sober you up, it was shoving chips into your mouth on the Jubilee line.
‘Better?’ Rory was sitting next to me, occasionally pinching one. He shot me a look when I tried to steer the Styrofoam box away from him. ‘I bought these chips, Pen, hand them over.’
He had a point. I passed him the box. ‘These have nothing on the cheesy chips and gravy from Tony’s.’
I was referring to a tiny fish and chip shop in Edinburgh. The location for many end-of-the-night carb top-ups. By now, Rory’s anger had ebbed into mild irritation, and he’d started to warm up again.
‘You’re right. And now you’ve pointed it out, they taste like cardboard.’ He closed the box. ‘Done with this?’
I nodded, stomach sufficiently saved from the peril of alcohol. I was out of any immediate danger of throwing up my guts, I was almost entirely sure.
‘You’re my favourite person, do you know that?’ I’d reached the sentimental stage of my drunken cycle, leaning my body against Rory’s and trying to manoeuvre around the awkward armrest between us. I felt his sudden intake of breath.
‘I do know that. Come on, we need to change.’ He led me off the Tube carriage, reaching down to grab my hand and steer me towards the DLR. He’d held my hand a million times, but for some reason now I cared if they were clammy or not.
‘Let me just …’ I unlocked my fingers to wipe my hands on my trousers before reaching back for him.
He didn’t say anything, but the corners of his mouth turned up.
After hungry Penny came sentimental Penny, and shortly after that, exhausted Penny made an entrance. My limbs felt like lead as we walked back to Rory’s flatshare. The weight of the reality of tonight’s actions began to hit. I was dreading facing everyone tomorrow.
I collapsed onto his bed as soon as humanly possible once we’d walked through the door, and he held a finger to his lips, silently communicating that his flatmate Stephen might be asleep.
‘You’re a piece of work, you know that?’ Rory was loosening his tie as he stared at me from the other side of the room. ‘Are you going to sleep in those trousers?’
I glanced down at the leather. ‘No?’
He rolled his eyes, throwing me a T-shirt. ‘Don’t say I never give you anything.’
‘My hero.’ I locked eyes with him, suddenly self-conscious. ‘Are you waiting for a show or something?’
Rory laughed, turning round whilst I got changed. I couldn’t quite make out whatever sarcastic mumble escaped him as he took off his own shirt. My cheeks flushed at the sight of his naked back, something I’d seen a million times over the years. I stopped looking, reaching down into the third drawer of his bedside table. I wasn’t sure how it had happened, but over the years, no matter where he’d been living – aside from the brief interlude of his year living with Lottie – I’d had my own drawer. We’d had too many late nights working on Level for me not to have some make-up remover and a toothbrush here. It was the equivalent of his belongings at the back of my wardrobe, just waiting for him to come back.
I scrubbed at my eyes with a cotton pad. ‘Thanks for letting me stay here tonight.’
Rory nodded, not saying much. ‘I bet Daniel would have let you stay at his too.’
Oh God, we were back on this. The mention of Daniel brought more pressing issues to the surface. ‘Are you sure this is okay?’
Rory hesitated as he was taking off his watch. ‘Is what okay?’
