Page 65 of An Acquired Taste

“Nor I you.”

I swallow. I wish I could focus on the dance to distract myself from the surge of unwanted feelings, but the steps come as easily as breathing when I’m with him. “Why are you?” I ask. If he intended for this night to be a way to say goodbye, he could have done it elsewhere.

His brow furrows. “Why do you think?”

I bite the inside of my lip as frustration wells up in me. I wanted this last conversation to leave on a good note, a kind note, butGod, this man knows how to drive me crazy sometimes. “I don’t know, Sebastian,” I say. “I never have any idea what you’re thinking or feeling, particularly—” My voice thickens, but I blink away the threat of tears. “Particularly when it comes to me.”

His feet slow to a stop, and mine follow seemingly of their own accord. We are left standing still in the middle of the dance floor, the eye of a storm of twirling partners. Glances are drifting toward us, but Sebastian does not seem to care. He stares at me, eyes narrowed in disbelief, before he grabs my arm and pulls me from the dance floor.

I’m surprised at how well he seems to know the layout of this place, since he seems to avoid parties as much as possible, but then he turns on a light and I realize where we are: the library. Of course. It’s not as impressive as his own or that of the Celeste mansion we visited, but it stands to reason that this is a room he would be able to locate.

But we’re not the only ones seeking solace here. There’s a clatter of noise from behind one of the shelves, and Sebastian goes instantly still, his fangs sliding out. “Getout,” he snaps at the darkness.

For a moment, there’s nothing. Then Viktoria de Camelia strides out of the shadows, her lipstick smeared and one strapof her dress falling down her slim shoulder, yet looking entirely unselfconscious about the state she’s in. One hand tugs her valentine Jonah along while he struggles half-heartedly to hold together the torn buttons of his shirt.

Viktoria eyes us. Sebastian lets out one of those low, dangerous hisses, but she only smiles in response. “Have fun,” she purrs, and leaves, tugging her valentine along with her. He casts one last look back at us before they both disappear.

Sebastian slams the door shut behind them and then stands with one hand pressed to his temple, struggling to get his expression under control. He doesn’t speak until his fangs have retracted and he looks a little less like he wants to tear someone’s throat out.

“Amelia,” he says. He runs his fingers through his hair. “It feels as though I’ve mis-stepped again. I have been trying to tell you—”

“Wait,” I say. “I want to say something first.” Before I end this once and for all. I fold my arms over my chest, hugging myself. “I’m sorry about the blog. It was wrong of me to post private things about you. It was meant to be a way for me to vent. I never thought it would blow up like that or get back to you. But I did scrub the identifying details from it before posting it, just so you know. You don’t have to worry about blowback.”

Sebastian’s expression tightens. He looks down at his shoes. “When your sister mentioned it, I assumed the worst,” he says. I wait, giving him time to speak; I’ve already said my piece. “I had always wondered why… someone like you would be attracted to someone like me.” I open my mouth, but he hurries on before I can interrupt. “I assumed life at my estate would bore you, that my efforts to bring you out into society were too little, too late. So when I heard that you had been posting online, I thought my worst fears had come true. That you were only in this for astory to tell, and that you were divulging everything for money or fame.”

“That was never…” I say, not even sure how to refute the ridiculous things he’s saying, but he holds up a palm to halt me and I bite my tongue.

“Then I read the blog,” he continues. “And I saw the truth. At first, I was embarrassed that any of that was available to public eyes. But when I started reading… I was so much more ashamed to see who I was from your perspective.” He raises his gaze to mine. “It made me realize how terrible I had been to you.”

My lower lip wobbles. I bite down on it, trying to wrestle my emotions under control. God, how verystupidboth of us have been. We understand each other so little. I thought that hashing out our issues would make me feel better, but it only makes me more aware of this enormous gap between us. I was fully ready to own up to my mistake in the blog, but I know, deep down, that was far from the worst of our issues. And I’m struck with a sudden despair that we are just too different for this to ever work. We can barely even talk to each other honestly.

“Every time I get close, you push me away,” I say. “I know you like my blood, and that I remind you of Etta, but I…” I have to pause as my voice trembles. It’s humiliating, but this might be my last chance to let him know how he made me feel, so I have to press onward. “I need more than that, Sebastian. I need more than being used and thrown away again and again. And you deserve more than clinging to some shred of resemblance to your past love. This relationship hasn’t been healthy for either of us.”

For a moment, he only stares at me. Then he lowers his head, staring at the floor.

“It’s past midnight,” I whisper. “Our contract is done. If you have something to say to me, you’re running out of time.”

He raises his head to look at me. “I have behaved boorishly.”

I huff out a small laugh. “That wasalmostan apology.”

“I am sorry, Amelia.” He meets my eyes, and I try not to look as surprised as I feel—and try even harder not to soften so easily. “I am sorry for everything that I have done, and everything I have not done. I am sorry, too, that I do not always know the right thing to say. You have been… an unexpected change in my life, and I have not handled it as well as I should have. I have been unreasonable and selfish.”

“And cold,” I say. “And volatile. And fickle.”

“I will accept all of those charges butfickle. My feelings for you have not wavered since the moment I laid eyes upon you. If it ever seemed so, it was only that I struggled with how to handle those feelings. They frightened me.Youfrightened me.”

My heart stutters, but I viciously shove the feeling away. “Because I remind you of Etta.”

To my surprise, he laughs. “No,” he says. “You arenothinglike Etta. She was…” He pauses. “Etta was fair-haired and soft-spoken and gentle. She was everything I wanted at that point in my life, when I was still healing from the war. But you…” He looks at me. “You are bold and funny and charming, and everything I need right now. I would not change you for the world.”

My poor battered heart is beating double-time in my chest. “Because of my blood,” I say, the words almost a question.

“It is not just your blood that I want, Amelia,” he says slowly, as if shocked that he has to explain it. “Is it not clear that I adore you?”

Chapter Thirty-Four

My mouth drops open. For a moment I can only stare, and then, sputtering, I ask, “In what way was that ever supposed to beclear?”

---