Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Something tells me he's a lot less likely to just do what I ask than he was a month ago.
But if my father became a danger to Bel...that...that would make Seb act.
8
BEL
It's been a couple of days, but Drew's words and rough touch have stuck with me. Branding me with their memory. I hate that he knows how to awaken all the dormant places in my body and knows exactly what to do to leave me begging for more.
Why is he doing this to me, sparking my desire for him all over again?
I promised myself he wouldn't pull me back in.
I stop brushing my hair and throw the brush at the bathroom counter, where it clatters and bounces into the sink.
Damn him for doing this to me. If he thinks I'll go back to being the meek little wallflower bending to his every whim, he’ll be in for one hell of a surprise. The day I lost my mom… I lost a little piece of myself. I swear it died right along with her, and something else bloomed in that spot. Something different, wild, something that would never be taken advantage of again.
Growing sick of myself, I gather my hair up into a messy knot on top of my head and leave the confines of my bedroom to hunt Sebastian down. He spends the majority of his time in the study that used to be his—our—grandfather’s. Not that I would know much about him. Seb isn't exactly forthcoming with information. I get the eerie feeling he’s trying to protect me from something bigger.
Just as I expect, I find him in the study, a mug of coffee on the leather desk blotter, his feet thrown up on the edge of the massive mahogany desk.
The room looks stately. Shelves line both sides of the room, a massive fireplace near the door, and windows on the opposite wall. The space is too dark and formal for me.
How can someone relax long enough to work in here?
I cringe, realizing at the last moment that I’ve spoken the words out loud.
Seb glances up and smirks. "No one relaxes here. This room is mostly for show. Hell, some of these books haven't even been cracked open.”
I give a little sigh and shuffle to the nearest shelf, the hardwood warm under my sock-covered feet. Classics, lots of classics, with a few law books mixed in. Interesting. I tug on a copy of Twenty Thousand Leagues and smell the edge of the case. It reminds me of the school library, and the scent comforts me the same way I feel when I go there.
I gently peel open the cover, and the pages stick straight up, signifying that this one has never been opened. How sad.
I look from the book to Seb, who is watching me curiously, his feet now on the floor, his shoulders hunched as he braces his elbows on his knees.
"Did you need something?"
Is it too weird that I just want someone to talk to? Someone to help me figure things out? I tuck the book back in its spot and turn to face the desk.
"I need to know the truth. Am I Drew's sister?"
Seb huffs out a breath and rubs at his eyes.
“Do I personally think he’s your brother? No.”
I fold myself into the chair in front of the desk and stare at him, afraid that if I look away for even a moment, his response might be missed.
"Do you know more than you've told me? About my father? Or about yours?"
Despite our time together, I still can't really read him. His face is doing that I'm a grumpy hot boy thing that it usually does. All I can manage to do is frown. While it’s wonderful to have a sibling and someone to talk to, that only works if they respond. He of course says nothing.
"Cool. Glad we are sharing."
He blinks, and his mouth shifts to something that looks a lot like a grin. "I'll share what I can when I can, but I promise, I'm not willfully keeping things from you." There's a pause, and he ducks his chin. "Can you...would you be able to tell me more about what our mom was like?"
I won’t lie. My heart swells a little in my chest. Since I miss talking to her so much, Mom’s never far from my mind. I think the easiest way to keep someone’s memory alive even after they pass is to talk about them.
His green eyes mirror my own, and in some ways, it’s like looking at my own reflection. Every twitch reminds me that he's trying to keep his emotions in check, and right now, he's doing a terrible job at it. Not that I'm going to hold it against him. I feel like Sebastian has grown more vulnerable with me in many ways. I see sides of him no one else does, or at least not that I’ve seen, and that makes me want to get closer. It makes me want to build on our connection.