Chapter 23 #2
Which made it twice as horrible when Bella pulled away. Yasmine tried to lean back in, desperate for more, but Bella maintained the distance between them.
“Why?” Yasmine sighed out.
Bella sighed, as if it was obvious.
“Yasmine, do you view yourself as someone capable of falling in love?”
The question gave her more whiplash. Yasmine’s heart clenched so hard in her chest she nearly forgot she was immortal. She trembled, taking a step back.
“I…”
Her mouth opened, then closed. Of course she did. Didn’t she?
Before she met Bella, she had already been on a hundred dates. Terribly unsuccessful ones. And that was only in New York.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried to fall in love. She’d tried plenty, and she’d gotten close. She’d dated some halfway decent people in a thousand years.
But the switch just… never flipped for her.
That was the only way she could describe it. She’d feel attraction, sometimes even infatuation, but the closer they got, the worse and more frequent the nightmares became. She drove people mad. No one could put up with it.
So, at some point, she had stopped trying. She just couldn’t handle it turning out the same way again. Having no one was vastly preferable to watching someone you liked slowly begin to hate you because of something you couldn’t control.
“Regardless of what I want,” Yasmine began shakily. “I don’t think it’s possible for someone to fall in love with me and keep their sanity in the process.”
Bella let out a clipped laugh, like Yasmine had said something horribly amusing.
“And I end up turning the ones I like into dust, so who has it easier, hm?”
Yasmine’s gut twisted. “We sound like a match made in Russian Roulette.”
“We do. Anyone who would gamble on us would be an idiot.”
I might be an idiot, then.
Bile climbed into Yasmine’s throat at the sudden thought. Goosebumps assaulted her skin. Her eyes widened. No; she didn’t actually think like that, did she?
She was letting herself get caught up in the moment. They had reviewed the terms of their relationship several times. Yasmine didn’t love Bella. She liked her.
It was just that she liked so few people. One or two per millenium, really.
But it’s never felt like this, has it?
With a breath in, Yasmine nodded. “Agreed.”
Bella gave her one of those smiles that was half a frown, a sad, regretful sort of expression.
She was communicating something with her eyes that Yasmine couldn’t decipher.
With her non-offending hand, Bella reached over and tenderly held the side of Yasmine’s face.
“I really do appreciate your trust, Yasmine. Even if you pick incredibly strange ways of demonstrating it,” she breathed, eyes flitting to Yasmine’s lips, then back to her eyes.
“But if I was going to marry someone again, I wouldn’t want it to be a practical affair.
I would want to be in love. I want to have one final headshot in that stupid book, and leave it at that. For eternity.”
“Oh,” Yasmine said. It felt as if an undressed wound in her side had been suddenly scrubbed with bleach. “I understand.”
Bella smiled, then pressed forward, kissing Yasmine’s cheek chastely.
She lingered there for a moment, her breath warm on Yasmine’s cheek, and all Yasmine wanted to do was turn to the side and capture her lips and kiss her like they’d just kissed, slowly and with all the time in the world—but would Bella want that? And what would that mean?
Bella pulled away. “As much as I’d like to finish what we just started, I think Rebecca will be mad if I keep you from your guests.”
Yasmine’s breath hitched.
The fucking dinner party.
She’d completely forgotten about it.
“Right,” she said, eyes darting towards the old analog clock hanging on the wall. She cursed. “God, time sped by me—they’re probably already here.”
Bella pushed her shoulder, sending her in the direction of the door.
“Go, go. Vampires are a deeply impatient people. They might start chewing on Bruce if you make them wait too long.”
Yasmine stepped forward, her mind doing its best to reorient itself towards the task at hand, but then she frowned when Bella didn’t follow her.
“Aren’t you coming?” she whispered.
Bella refused to look her in the eye. “I will, don’t worry. I’m just going to touch up in the bathroom first.”
Yasmine scrutinized her face. She saw nothing out of place.
“I’m not sure what you need to touch up,” she said. “You look perfect already.”
A beat passed between them. The clock ticked, and it was so loud now that Yasmine couldn’t believe she hadn’t heard it before; she was unbearably aware of it now.
“Just go,” Bella said quietly, giving her one more small, strange smile, before escorting her out the door. She didn’t ask where the bathroom was—she just started stalking down the hallway in the opposite direction, her gown fluttering behind her like the wings of a silver moth.
***
Brushing the tears from below her eyes, Bella took a ragged breath in, and painted the wet skin over with concealer. She looked so small in the reflection of the bathroom mirrors—they had to be nine feet tall each, and similar in width.
But the opulence only began there. The sinks were all marble. There were sketches by Da Vinci hanging over the toilets. Originals.
Maybe it’s possible to evade loneliness if you surround yourself with enough beauty. Maybe that’s how she does it.
Her hand tightened around her makeup pouch. Bella didn’t quite believe that theory, but if it worked for Yasmine, maybe it would work for her someday, too.
I’m not sure why you got your hopes up anyway. It’s not like you could have gone through with it. Just focus on enjoying your time away from the exploding bomb.
It was true. Really, she should be grateful for this escape; after hearing out Sabina’s plans, she’d spent the past few days in a doom spiral. Because of course they had to be here for Yasmine.
Because she was never allowed to have something that was just hers, was she?
But it was fine. It didn’t matter. Luckily, since Bella knew exactly where Yasmine would be for the next few days, it was quite easy for her to throw them off her trail for now.
And while they were searching for her in California, Bella could be here, and tell Yasmine all about their stupid plans.
That’s why she’d arrived early to dinner in the first place.
But then Yasmine just had to go and kiss her against the wall and evaporate every thought out of her skull.
But it was fine.
She’d collect herself, enjoy dinner, try not to murder whoever Charlie Smith was, and then she’d come completely clean. She’d already told Yasmine most of everything now, all she was leaving out were the names.
Yasmine trusted her. She’d said it herself.
So even if they weren’t going to be more than friends, they could still be something Bella had a dire need for—allies.
That could be enough.
It had to be enough.
Her phone buzzed, startling her out of her thoughts. She winced in pain at the sound of it. But no, why would it be her family? It probably was just spam.
There would be no reason for—
Sabina: You won’t believe this. Yesterday I sucked dry this vampire loser that I met off of VampireMatch.
He was in town for the weekend. Name was Charlie Smith.
Like he’s some puritan pilgrim! Most boring lay EVER!
But do you know what he had in his man-purse?
An invitation to a dinner party for this weekend. From Yasmine Sokolov!!
Sabina: We're pulling into the driveway now. I’m texting you the address. Take the train up to Albany and meet us there, won’t you?