Page 172 of Secrets That We Keep (Forbidden Descendants 2)

“Then you do want forgiveness?” she surmised.

Oh my God, I was getting a headache here. “I just…” I bit out scowling at her. “I don’t care if you—”

“But see…” She shook a finger in my face. “I think you do care. I think you care a lot.”

“What the hell,” I muttered, shaking my head in confusion. “What are you trying to get me to say here?”

“I’m trying to get you to answer the damn question I asked in my letter. Why! Why can’t you just tell me you like me already?”

“Because I don’t like you!” I roared back. “Jesus.” Gripping my head, I turned away from her and curled my shoulders in, fighting off the battle of fear and insecurity going on inside me.

In front of me, Bentley blinked as if I had just slapped her. “You don’t like me?”

I cracked off a harsh, bitter laugh. “How could I?” Eyes going moist, I added, “Like is a nice and polite, comfortable emotion. And what I feel for you is in no way nice or polite or comfortable. It’s like this violent, all-consuming thunderstorm I can’t control. An obsessive itch I can never alleviate. Sometimes, I think I hate you for making me want something like I want every smile, every glance, every scowl, and laugh, and shout, or whisper, or every freaking tear you have to give. I’ve never wanted anything the way I want you. And it’s terrible. And wonderful. And confusing. And scary as shit. Now tell me, how is there room for like in any of that?”

Blinking at me, Bentley sucked in a breath and then hissed out a sudden breath before shaking her head and whispering, “Beau.”

She stepped toward me, but I lifted my hand, warding her back, too tender to receive anything right then.

“Don’t,” I snarled, pulling away. “Don’t you dare give me any sympathy.”

“I wasn’t—”

“See.” I pointed at her. “This is exactly why I never wanted you to know. Because you’d just feel bad for me. You’d never be able to care about me the way I care about you, and your rejection would make you all sympathetic and miserable. Nothing would be worse than that, so I hid it and made you hate me so you’d never know, so you could never look at me like you’re looking at me right now. Oh God.”

Clutching my head, I spun away from her. “I thought that all the craving inside me might eventually go away if I was just cold, and impersonal, and cruel enough to you. But it won’t freaking go away. And I think I die every time I upset you. But I can’t seem to stop. I don’t know what else to do.” I hiccupped and squeezed my eyes shut, feeling my control splinter. Because she had all of it. She held the power. “Why won’t it just go away?” I rasped.

“Hey,” she said softly, stepping in front of me and gently grasping my hands to remove them from my head.

I started to breathe erratically, knowing this was the moment. She’d truly, honestly reject me now.

Before I could stop them, my eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry.” Leaning in, I pressed my face forward until our brows touched. “I did everything wrong, didn’t I?”

Bentley laughed out a small, tender chuckle as she wiped at my damp cheeks, making me whimper and close my eyes, bracing for impact as she said, “Yeah, you pretty much did. But so far, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

Fixed?

Okay, I was not expecting that word. Eyes flying open, I gaped at her as hope filled my chest. “What?”

This time, when she stroked my cheek, it wasn’t to mop up tears; I think she just wanted to touch me.

“How do I fix it?” I asked.

“Well, for starters,” she said, catching a piece of my hair between her fingers and playing with it. “You could try being nice to me every once in a while.”

I huffed out a strange laugh. “I don’t know. If I did that, I’d probably go overboard and turn all clingy, and pathetic, and lovesick. You really want me invading your space all the time, worshiping the ground you walk on? Never leaving you alone because I can’t get enough of you?”

She flushed and shrugged as if she might not mind the idea, but then she said, “Don’t worry; I’ll let you know if you go too far with it.”

“But—”

“Beau.” Placing a finger against my lips, she smiled. “I’m pretty sure I would like clingy and pathetic and lovesick from you.” Her eyes squinted as she nodded. “So just give it a try, okay?”

I exhaled a sudden breath, realizing what was happening here. I mean, I think I understood.

I

n return, Bentley shuddered before dropping her finger from my mouth and cradling it to her chest as if feeling my breath on her had thrilled her into nervousness.

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