Rille (Tribes, Book 2)

Chapter 25

Brielle laid her ear to the door that she assumed led to the bathroom, trying to determine if Preston was hiding or if he had left. Considering that her last full memory was some woman referring to Preston as her fiance, it was probably better if he had left. But Brielle had questions, so she was hoping he had merely gone to take a shower or something.

She didn't hear any water running, but that didn't mean he wasn't on the other side of the door. Even though she had woken up alone in the bed, Brielle had a sneaking suspicion that Preston had been there all night.

If only she could remember what happened between the witch and waking up in Preston's place.

She assumed it was Preston's place. There were Preston-like clothes in the closet and a pair of shoes identical to his were at the foot of the bed. But the truth was, she had no way of knowing for sure.

"Looking for me?" The question came from behind her.

Brielle spun, her fists flying up into a defensive posture.

Preston caught her fists in his own hands, which effectively stopped her from lashing out before she had registered who he was.

"Oh. Hi." Brielle tugged her hands out of his hold, not because she didn't like it but because it made her heart flutter.

That seemed to be a recurring problem recently. Any touch from Preston made her heart race and her nerves sizzle with anticipation. How was she supposed to remain neutral and composed when his mere presence made her want to fall apart?

As if he read her thoughts and took notes, Preston reached up to tuck an errant hair out of Brielle's face. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I have a wicked hangover," Brielle confessed.

"You probably do."

"What?" Brielle wracked her brain, trying to find the memories that would tell her exactly what she had done. "Did that witch give me some kind of alcohol?"

"No." Preston sighed. "I've explained this once, but seeing how you're asking I'm going to assume you remember nothing about last night."

She probably shouldn't admit to that, given that Brielle planned to be angry with Preston about the whole fiancee thing, but lying toPreston had never ended well before. She doubted he would believe her if she lied, anyway.

Brielle scratched a finger against her head. "What did I do?"

"Pity," Preston commented as he brushed past her to enter the bathroom.

"Pity? What does that mean?" Brielle spun and trailed after him. She'd be darned if she let him get away with vague comments and uncertain innuendos.

Preston seemed far too unbothered by Brielle's panic. He went straight to the sink, where he picked up a toothbrush and toothpaste and set to work on his morning routine.

Brielle wasn't about to have any of that. She would get an explanation one way or another. As she had previously stated, she had questions. So she was going to ask them whether he liked it or not.

"If I wasn't drunk, why do I have a hangover?"

"I never said you weren't drunk. I just said that Ava didn't give you alcohol." Preston popped his toothbrush into his mouth.

Brielle pressed the heels of her hands to her temples, though she couldn't be certain if it was to calm her headache or to jog her memory. "So... I was drunk?"

Preston nodded his head. He couldn't do much else with a mouth full of toothpaste.

A fuzzy memory danced on the edges of Brielle's brain. Something to do with a wine bottle and a countertop. She vaguely remembered feeling hot. Taking off a dress.