Page 3 of Bells

“I’m not fucking any of them,” he said, eyeing me. “And I don’t plan on it.”

“Do you watch?” I studied him for a response.

He sighed. “I haven’t in a long time. I have you. I don’t need to watch or participate.”

I was treading into dangerous territory.

“Don’t you ever just want to share me though? Maybe with Church?”

His eyes darkened, and he backed away from me. I reached for him, but he slapped my hands off him.

“No, I don’t fucking want to share you with Church,” he snapped at me. “What the fuck, Isabella? What is your obsession with my friends? Am I not good enough or something?”

“Of course you’re good,” I said, reaching for him again. He scowled but didn’t push me away this time.

“What about you?” he grunted, glaring down at me. “Are you fucking any of the guys following you around like lost puppies here?”

I bit my bottom lip and stared up at him. “No.”

He studied me for a moment, his features not as hard as they’d been moments before. “Promise, Bells?”

I frowned. I hated when he got needy and weak. His personality disorder left him all over the damn place. Most of those places I enjoyed just because they brought me joy. This one I didn’t. At least not today. I wasn’t in the mood for games.

“Sure. Yes. Promise,” I said, pulling away from him. “You have the best cock I’ve seen on campus, so why would I want anything else?”

“You’re just. . . I don’t know. You act like you want Church,” he mumbled.

Dante Church was gorgeous. All the watchers were. Tons of girls in this hellhole fantasized about them. Especially Church.

He only ever looked through me, not at me. I hated that. It pissed me off. He ignored me most of the time unless he was telling me to get the fuck out of the house they shared on campus. When I’d started seeing Sin, it was in the hopes I’d get closer to Church. It hadn’t happened, and I’d made do with Sinclair Priest. He was delicious and toxic. His brand of insanity was fun for me. I liked stirring his pot and making him crazier.

I was certain he enjoyed doing the same to me.

“I care about you,” Sin murmured. “You know that, right?”

“Can people like us feel those emotions?” I asked, peering up at him from beneath my long lashes.

“I feel them,” he confirmed softly. “When I’m with you.”

“Ugh.” I pushed him away.

“Bells, for fuck’s sake.” He sighed. “Why are you like this?”

I pulled out my compact and applied more lip gloss to my lips. “Like what?”

“Just when I think we’re getting close, you push me away.”

I smacked my lips together and put my stuff into my purse and turned back to him.

“I care about you too,” I said, liking and loathing the moment.

It was the fear in his eyes that got me. The want. The desire. But the fear that he’d lose me since he’d already lost so much in his life, from his father committing suicide in front of him and trying to take him with him to his mother tossing his ass into this asylum academy. That fear he seemed to have that no one wanted him made me desperate for his attention, even if he wasn’t what I truly wanted.

But the weakness that came with it turned me off. The pleading. The hurt look on his face. I hated all that. But god, I fucking loved to watch him crumble. I suppose that said a lot about who I was, but it didn’t matter. I liked to do what made me feel good.

He reached for me again and drew me into his arms. “I’m not him.”

I stiffened in his hold before shoving him away. “Don’t fucking talk to me about him!”

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