Page 57 of Ruled By Fate

“Mike asked if I wanted to join him and his friends. If it’s a problem, I don’t need to go—”

“It isn’t a problem.”

The two of them sat there a while longer, listening to the wind stir the branches outside before Brie looked down and traced the lines of the marble with her finger.

“You know,” she began cautiously, “I wasn’t the only one drinking last night.”

He threw her a quick glance but didn’t reply.

“Do you remember…?” She trailed off, wondering how to finish that sentence, wondering if she even wanted to finish that sentence. “There was this moment at the end when—”

He pushed suddenly to his feet. “The end of the night is actually kind of a blur,” he said shortly, taking great pains to avoid her eyes. “Must have been the beer. Mike was right. I’d never tried it.”

She went rigid as a statue, feeling like she’d been stung.

All those “restful vibes” flew right out the window. Her cheeks flamed, and that feeling of serenity vanished on the spot. She was still sitting there when he offered down a hand.

“Yeah,” she stammered as she stood, unable to look at him, “it’s a blur.”

They threw each other a quick look, then both spoke at once.

“Well, I should really—”

“I suppose you should get some—”

“Sleep, yes.” She nodded much too fast.

“Yes, exactly. I mean, you have work in the morning.” His nods were no better.

“Right, so I’ll just—”

“Yes, of course, you should.”

Feeling abruptly ridiculous, both of them turned in perfect unison and headed in opposite directions. That might have been the end of it. She was perfectly content to either pretend it never happened or simply set herself on fire — however the mood struck.

But she found herself pausing at the base of the stairs, throwing a glance over her shoulder. “Goodnight, Cameron.”

He answered without turning, still staring at the wall. “Goodnight, Brianna.”

She didn’t see the way his eyes snapped shut the second she walked away. She didn’t see the way he pressed his fists to his eyes and screamed a silent profanity at the wall.

She never saw. He always made sure of that.

Chapter Twelve: The Kitchen's on Fire

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The next morning, the tension in the house was palpable.

Brie felt it from the moment she woke up, like electricity, filling the air in her new little home with a low, thrumming buzz. She hadn’t even blinked twice before the memory hit her like a wave of social nausea, and her stomach leaped up into her throat.

I was trying to hit on him.

Her eyes snapped shut.

And he pretended like it never happened.

She groaned and flung her arm over her face as though she could somehow shield herself from the embarrassment that threatened to swallow her whole. It wasn’t like her to make the first move to begin with. Historically speaking, she was used to being pursued, yet uninterested. The fact that she’d broken that pattern by trying to casually start things with her guardian angel? Mortifying.

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