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She chuckles dryly. “He pretty much takes me for granted, like you used to with Ivy, I suppose.” She doesn’t give me a moment to find the words to protest the last part. “Seb’s easier… He makes it clear he’s just after my body. There’s no pretense.”
Holy shit. I never knew she was so deluded.
Sebastian Noble can have the body ofwhoever he likesspread on a silver platter. He doesn’t give a single shit about physical satisfaction; it’s as irrelevant to him as the girls I used to fuck in high school were to me. He makes an effort because he likes her. And sure, the competition with Nic might be a part of it, but it’s mostly about her.
It’s none of my business, and absolutely not why I’m here right now, but I can’t help grumbling, “You Fort sisters areliterallythe worst.What onearthmakes you believe any of that? Nic is completely in love with you and Sebastian isn’t very far off.”
She purses her lips. “I don’t think so.”
I run my hand through my hair, suddenly thoroughly exhausted. “Will either of youeverbelieve anyone loves you?”
“Honestly? I didn’t think you liked Ivy either. At least not until she left.”
Exactlywhat I didn’t want to hear.
“But once she did…you started to show it. You took an interest in the books in her room, you stole her journal, you started to speak tome, just to hear how she was doing.” She breaks into a grin. “And yes, I knew exactly what you were doing back then. It was sweet.”
Sweet. I’ve never before been accused of that, but right now, I don’t mind. I focus on the important part. “So, what made you think I cared?”
“You showed it.” She shrugs. “I guess we were raised by a dad who actually hugged us and told us he loved us, so we expect people who love us to, you know… Be affectionate? Say it? Want to spend time with us, dressed?”
Huh.
I…huh.
I’ve never been hugged by my father. Well, maybe back when I couldn’t walk—he must have carried me a time or two. Does that count? My mother was a little more physically affectionate, but not much. Hugs, I got from the nanny. And as forI love yous, I don’t think I’ve heard a single one in my entire life.
People actually do that sort of thing? I thought it was reserved for movies.
That actually works?
“Anyways, how can I help you?” Bella asks.
“I…think you just did. Somehow.”
She gave me the blueprints, but I’m the one supposed to do the groundwork from there. Except I can’t even begin to imagine where I’m supposed to start.
Hugging. Wow.
I do it to my little sister occasionally. She’s Bella’s age, but far less boisterous—shy, quiet, and poised. Sometimes she appears sad, and I’ve taken to hugging her, unprompted, when I notice it.
Ivy almost never seems sad around me. She’s generallyfurious. Or too busy coming to remember she’s supposed to hate me.
“You wanted to know how to communicate with Ivy,” she gleans.
I incline my head. “She doesn’t think I’m honest whenever I actually am serious, and she takes any of my mean shit at face value. To tell you the truth, I’m certain if I actually told her I loved her right now, she wouldn’t believe it.”
“And you do? Love her, that is.”
“I’ve never loved anyone else,” I reply easily, because it’s the simple truth.
Bella squeals. She actuallysqueals, jumps to her feet, and rushes to me. I half expect her to tackle me, but instead, she throws her arms around me and squeezes me.
In a hug.
It’s pretty nice, actually. Natural. And neither of us are particularly sad, either.
“Help me,” I ask, not wrapping it up. “Why doesn’t she understand I care now? You can see it. She seems to think I’m just being a dick for kicks, whatever I say.”
