Page 46 of Resisted

I’d happily watch Bella and sit out for the next collection. I had no fucking problem with that. It was the why of it. Not just the question of why it was necessary, but why he refused to tell me. We were our own pack, which meant our loyalty couldn’t be forged any other way but through honesty and trust, and Silas was slowly losing it. His secrets were making me question everything, and I knew they all revolved around Bella.

And Bella, fuck if that was a whole mess of a situation. Ever since that kiss, I couldn’t even look in her direction without getting hard. And her scent… Damnit, I swear it was getting stronger by the second, more potent by the moment, more… I couldn’t admit it. If I spoke the words out loud, then I made them true to the universe. But secretly, even if I couldn’t admit them out loud, I knew deep down—I fucking wanted her.

Shouldn’t that have been wrong? Was it? I’d watched this girl grow up, seen her through her most awkward stages of life, but now just being in the same room as her had my cock so hard, I could break through glass. It felt wrong, at least. Perverse. Taboo. And I wondered just a little that if I was feeling these things for Bella, did Silas’ feelings mirror my own?

“Could that frown get any deeper?”

“Fuck!” I cursed as I nearly dropped the coffee carafe I was cleaning under. I hadn’t heard Bella walk in, though I should have smelled her. Should have known from the intoxicating scent that had filled the room. It was everywhere now, spreading into our household as if its primary goal was to seep into every crevice and stay there forever as an intoxicating reminder of Bella. A hauntingly alluring memento emphasizing what we could never have.

I took a calming breath. “You fucking scared me, baby.”

“Serves you right. I told you not to call me that, Vincent,” she responded.

“I’ve told you not to call me that either.” I set down the carafe and turned to lean against the counter, crossing my arms in front of me.

“I’ll make you a deal. You stop calling me baby, and I’ll stop calling you Vincent.” She thought she was smart trying to make a deal, but I would never, never stop calling her baby.

“I’d rather die,” I stated.

“That was dramatic, even for you Vincent.” She walked toward me, and out of reflex, I reached up and grabbed a mug out of the cabinet before pouring her coffee. I’d already gone this far, so I fixed it the way she liked it.

I held it out. “For the zombies in the house.”

A soft smile played at the corner of her mouth before she stood on her tiptoes and gave me a quick kiss. It was fast, unexpected, but still had my knees weak. When she pulled away, she said, “I can think of better things than coffee to wake up the zombies of this house.”

Oh? “Can you?”

Her skin exposed by the too little tank top flushed, and fuck if my eyes didn’t fall to the blush, heating it with my gaze. “Lots of things.”

Her words made me blink, forcing me to move my eyes. “I guess I’ll take my coffee back then.”

I reached for the cup, and she pulled it out of my reach. Silly girl, if I’d wanted it that badly, I’d have had it in a blink. “You know what I was just thinking about this morning as I brushed my teeth?”

“How to torture a man? Because you’re a fucking pro at it, that’s for sure.” Looking at her in her sleep shorts and tank top, with her hair tossed up in a messy bun that could hardly contain its unruliness, was fucking torture. My fingers itched to reach up and snap the hair tie, to watch her hair fall down her back and memorize the images in slow motion to replay later when I was—

Whoa. No. This was Bella, baby, a part of our family. I could not and should not entertain thoughts of jerking off to her. Even so, the images were planted, and I wasn’t sure I could ever erase such bliss.

“I was thinking about that blue dress you destroyed.” She sighed as she held both hands around the warm mug before taking a sip and moaning, causing my insides to squeeze.

I cleared my throat, hoping she couldn’t hear the struggle it was to speak. “You mean the T-shirt?”

“It was a dress,” she stated.

“It was a fucking T-shirt, and you were way too young to be wearing it!”

“And now?” She took another sip, and my eyes followed the movement.

“Now what?”

“Do you find me too young now?” she prompted.

“Yes,” I answered without hesitation. Fuck, if she wore one of those T-shirts now, it might as well be the death of me, because I wouldn’t fucking survive it.

“Well, your opinion aside, you still owe me.” Her eyes bore into mine, challenging me as a wolf in a way that only she could get away with.

“Baby…” I began, but I couldn’t bring forth words after that.

“Vincent.” She held out her hand, and I stared at it, nearly weak with the implications of what that hand was requesting. “You owe me.”

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