Unraveled

Chapter 18

I stir awake with a groan caused by my painful wine hangover headache. I swear, I don't know why I keep choosing to drink that, because wine hangovers are the literal worst, and most definitely the bane of my existence.

I jump out of the bed I spent the night in, rushing to the bathroom to hunch over the toilet.

"You alright there?" I heard Brennan come into the bathroom, and he asked me that carefully.

I catch my breath, not bothering to look up at him. I'm sure he looked very amused right now. "Fuck, why did you let me drink last night?"

"I tried to get you to slow down. You didn't listen." I can hear him holding back a laugh.

I lean back from the toilet after my body feels like it's finished puking up my goddamn liver. "Don't ever let me drink wine again." I mumble, and this time he doesn't contain himself with finding my pain humorous.

"Noted. Do you need aspirin?"

"Did you even drink last night?" I look over to him, ignoring his offer, and he shakes his head.

"Oh how the turn tables." I close my eyes when another rush of pain courses through my head.

Brennan chuckles. "I'll be right back with an aspirin and some water." And before I can protest him with an excuse of saying 'no, I can do it myself, I'm not a weak bitch just from a hangover.' He leaves the bathroom.

Instead I just sigh, and I reach my arm out, flushing the toilet. This entire morning is both embarrassing and mortifying in my eyes. In his, it's just another drunk puking their guts out.

I stand up with the help of the counter, and I lean on it, the pain in my head not subsiding at all, probably getting worse in fact.

I hear Brennan come back, and he holds out a glass of water and two painkillers. I gratefully take them without saying anything, and quickly swallow them.

"You're a lightweight drunk, you know that right?" He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms and giving me that damned smirk.

"So I've been told." I mutter, taking one final sip of the water. "Also, just because you've apologized does not mean I forgive you. And if I said I forgave you last night, I was drunk. Don't ever listen to drunk me. I'm irrational when I drink wine." I set down the glass on the counter, and Brennan eyes my movements.

"You didn't. You just let me take your pants off instead."

I almost choke on my spit. I look down at my legs, and sure enough his black shirt I had been wearing since yesterday rested barely at the top of my thighs.

I feel my face unwillingly heat up, and I awkwardly clear my throat. "Do you have shorts or something I can borrow?"

I hear him hold back another laugh, realizing just how embarrassed I was. "I do. I'll put them on the bed for you. Just meet Zoe and I out in the kitchen. I made French toast." He offers, and I nod.

He leaves the bathroom, and I look at myself in the mirror. Grimacing at my looks, I lean down and turn on the water faucet, splashing some cold water on my face.

After I dry myself, I run my hands through my messed up hair, trying to make it look a tad bit more under control.

I walk out into his room again, and there's a pair of shorts on the bed. I quickly put them on, and that's when I hear my phone buzz.

I found my phone on the nightstand, assuming Brennan put it next to me sometime last night while I was asleep.

Kimmy was calling. I swipe to accept the call and bring the phone to my ear.