The Buried Symbol (The Ruins of Issalia Book 1) by Jeffrey L. Kohanek Page A

head is going to explode. ”
    Meg laughed. “ You boys were going through mugs of ale like you were on a mission to empty the whole keg. ” She reached toward the nightstand, her hand returning with a pewter mug. “ Here, drink this. It should help. ”
    He looked at the mug. “ No thanks. I don ’ t need any more ale, ” he groaned. “ I don ’ t think I ’ ll ever drink that stuff again. ”
    She laughed. “ Silly. It ’ s water. Drinking water is supposed to help after you ’ ve had too much ale. ”
    Brock lifted his head and took the mug. “ I am thirsty. Water sounds good. ”
    He took a long drink and then another. After a breath, he took one last drink and emptied the mug.
    Meg set the mug on the nightstand before resting her head on his chest, nestling up to his neck. He felt her warm breath on his skin. She lightly raked her fingers across the ripples of his stomach, drawing random shapes.
    Brock enjoyed the attention and warmth Meg was sharing. It felt wonderful to have this pretty girl lying beside him. Her hair smelled good. Lying on a soft bed felt great. He decided if his head would stop pounding, this would be perfect.
    His eyes closed as he tried to remember the events of the prior evening.
    The three boys drank together, with Ren telling stories of Hank. The ale was good. The more he drank, the more he wanted. Meg kept coming to the table to join the conversation. Eventually, the other tables emptied, and Meg joined the boys for good. Somehow, she ended up on Brock ’ s lap, her arm around his shoulders.
    Things became foggy after that. He remembered kissing Meg, her lips feeling warm and soft. He vaguely recalled going upstairs, his hand in hers as she pulled him along. He couldn ’ t remember anything else.
    Meg lifted her head from his chest. His eyes opened to find her staring at him, smiling. She leaned close and kissed him, her soft lips lingering for a moment before pulling away.
    Regret reflected in her eyes. “ I have to get up now. Our guests need someone to serve them breakfast. The cook should have it prepared by now, but someone still has to serve it. ”
    Brock had to ask her a question. He needed to know what happened. “ About last night … did we … um … you know? ”
    She laughed again. “ No, sweetie. When you told me you ’ d never been with a girl, I decided it wouldn ’ t be fair to take advantage of you … considering your condition. ”
    She climbed out of bed and stretched; her chest thrust out as she lifted her arms and arched her back. Striking that pose in her thin shift aroused him instantly.
    Meg stepped over to the vanity. Using a large bowl of water, she wet a cloth and used some soap to wash her face, neck, and under her arms.
    “ This is your room? ” Brock asked as he turned to observe the surroundings.
    It was a small room with a single door and a window. The bed was barely large enough for two. A nightstand, vanity, and a wooden chest were the only other items of note.
    “ Yes, ” Meg replied. “ If you ’ re wondering about Tipper, he ’ s sharing the room that Ren normally shared with Hank. ” She paused, considering something. “ I think Ren was happy to have company last night. I don ’ t think he was ready to be alone after what happened. ”
    She set the cloth down, picked up a brush, and began to tame her wild mane of red hair.
    Watching Meg go through this ritual while she was wearing her shift aroused him even further. She was so beautiful.
    Meg reached into the wooden chest and grabbed a dress. She put her legs through and pulled it up. After sliding her arms through, she stepped next to the bed with her back facing him.
    “ Will you button me up, please? ”
    Brock sat up, his head spinning as he did. He swung his legs off the bed, pulling the blanket over his lap to cover his smallclothes. When he secured her last button, she turned and cupped his cheeks with her hands while planting a kiss on his lips.
    “ I hope you weren