25. Chapter 25
What the fuck just happened?
I barreled into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind me, the red bikini still clutched in my hand. I held it up. It was barely there. Two tiny triangles and some strings. That was it.
I hadn’t even tried it on. Actually, now that I thought about it—I hadn’t tried any of the three Kinsley picked up and insisted I pack. Because I had fully intended to ‘forget’ they existed.
But no. She hovered while I packed, like a prison guard supervising contraband inspection. I could still see her folding them neatly, raising a brow when I tried to tuck them deep in the suitcase.
She knew me too well. I dropped the bikini onto the counter and stared at it. There was no universe in which it covered me appropriately. Speaking of the devil…
I pulled out my phone and fired off a text. It was around seven back home. Dinner would be done, and it was Tuesday. Movie night. Safe territory.
BELLA:
Got a minute?
KINS:
Always. What’s up?
BELLA:
Could you have gotten a skimpier bikini?
KINS:
You’ve got it on? Send a pic. Please.
I scoffed and snapped a photo of it laid out on the marble counter instead. Even flat, it looked criminal. I stared at it as I hit send.
KINS:
That’s not helpful. I remember what it looks like. I picked it out. I meant on your body, beautiful.
BELLA:
That’s not what I really texted you for. It’s deeper.
KINS:
Do you want to talk instead? I’ll pretend I need the bathroom.
God, I loved her.
BELLA:
No, Pasha’s waiting. Things got weird. Or…they’ve been weird.
KINS:
Weird as in he made you uncomfortable weird?
BELLA:
No. Not that.
But I paused. How to explain this?
BELLA:
You know how he teases me?
KINS:
Yeah, did he cross a line?
BELLA:
No, nothing like that. It’s doing weird things to me all of a sudden.
Three dots appeared instantly.
KINS:
I’m not tracking. Can you give me more?
I swallowed.
BELLA:
When he teases me now, my stomach feels like butterflies and nausea had a baby.
There was a pause.
KINS:
ROTFLOL. I’m bringing Tori in on this.
Before I could protest, a new chat popped up.
NEW GROUP CHAT: THE BIRD WHO FLEW THE NEST
Of course, that was the name.
TORI:
Hey, how’s my favorite Italian in the world?
BELLA:
Ready to come home now.
TORI:
Aww. Homesick? That’s normal. Want a group call?
KINS:
No. She either needs Pepto or she’s falling in love.
My stomach dropped harder.
BELLA:
I am NOT.
TORI:
That reaction alone says otherwise. Give us a minute.
I glanced back at the bikini. My bra and underwear covered more than this thing. And somehow that wasn’t even what had me spiraling. The phone rang. I answered just as a knock sounded on the bathroom door.
“You can’t hide in there forever.”
My traitorous stomach flipped again. “I’m having a bit of a struggle,” I called through the door. “Meet you downstairs?”
Snickering echoed in my ear from the girls.
“Bella,” he growled.
My knees actually weakened at the sound.
“I promise, Lev. This is new for me. I need a few minutes to acquaint myself with this much flesh showing.”
Laughter erupted from both sides of the Atlantic. Fantastic. I was a comedy special.
“All right. Fifteen minutes. Or I’m coming in and dragging you down myself.”
“Ha. Yeah, okay. See you soon.”
I stared at my reflection. My cheeks were pink. Eyes too bright. It wasn’t from the bikini either. I pressed my ear to the door and waited until I heard his footsteps retreat and the outer door click shut.
Only then did I open the bathroom door a crack to confirm. Relief coursed through me at the empty space. Good. I shut it again and leaned back against the counter.
“I’m not falling in love,” I snapped into the phone.
“What happened?” Tori asked. “Talk to us.”
So I did. I gave them the cliff notes—diner, bookstore, teasing, the book, the way he’d pinned me down.
“Every time he touches me it’s like… like—” I groaned. “I don’t have the words.”
“Well, that sounds exactly like you’re falling for my Pasha. And oh my God, do you know what that would mean? Isabella, our babies—yours and mine—could get married.”
“Will you shut up?” I hissed. “I am not having his babies. Or anyone’s babies. That’s your department and Tori’s. And you have to have sex to have babies. We are not doing that.”
“But you could,” she insisted, far too pleased. “He’d be perfect. And we wouldn’t have to vet any new girls coming into the house. Tell her, Tori.”
“I know you love them both,” Tori cut in calmly, “but this isn’t helping our Isabella.”
When she said my name, I felt myself steady.
“Look, you’re in a heightened situation. You’re pretending to be together. You’re sharing a bed. You’re touching more. The body responds to proximity. It responds to safety. It responds to attraction. That’s normal and it doesn’t automatically mean love.”
She was describing this situation like it was…ordinary. Like what I was feeling wasn’t some defect. Like I wasn’t broken. My reflection caught my eye in the mirror—flushed cheeks, bright eyes, breathing a little too fast.
“So you’re saying I’m horny?” I asked bluntly. “Since when?”
There was a second of silence. A tiny one.
“You’ve never felt that before?” Tori asked.
Heat rushed up my neck. “You know what? This was stupid. I shouldn’t have called.”
“Don’t you dare,” Tori snapped—lovingly but firmly. “Or I’m putting Marcel on the phone.”
That shut me up.
“You called for a reason. And I’m trying to tell you that what you’re feeling is normal, for fuck’s sake.”
I blinked. Tori never cursed.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“It’s okay. But listen to me.” Her tone shifted. “Everything you’re describing means you’re not damaged. Do you understand? Some women who went through what we did…they never feel safe enough for intimacy. Their bodies shut down. Yours isn’t.”
The words wrapped around my ribs.
“You don’t have to act on anything,” she continued. “Don’t rush, and certainly don’t do anything you don’t want to.”
“It’s not like that. I just don’t know what to do with all of this. I should be horrified, right? Right?”
“No,” they both said at once.
Tori sighed. “This is one of the areas Marcel keeps telling you to trust your instincts in. Let’s test something. What’s the groom’s name?”
I frowned at my reflection. “Huh? Chase. Why?”
“If Chase had done what Pasha just did—same tone, same moves—what would you have done?”
“Cut him,” I answered. “He’s getting married. I’d chop his dick off and personally deliver it to Lisa with a sympathy card.”
Tori laughed. “It was hypothetical.”
“Oh, right.”
“Please don’t cut Pasha’s dick off,” Kinsley chimed in. “I really want one of my daughters to marry one of his sons.”
“Hypothetically?” I asked dryly.
“No, really. I just have to agree to have one, and he has to agree to have one and—you know what I mean, Izzy B.” She sounded flustered now. “He should go first, though. Men should be older.”
“Not always,” Tori countered. “My next book is going to be reverse age gap. He’ll be the virgin.”
“I’d read that,” I muttered. Then I sagged against the counter. “But guys…what do I do now?”
“You’re going to put that bikini on,” Kinsley declared, “and knock Pasha’s socks off. But could you please send a picture?”
“I agree with Kinsley,” Tori said. “Put the bikini on. Wear your shorts and T-shirt over it for now. When you get down there, do what feels right. And Isabella…it’s okay to be attracted to him. That doesn’t mean you owe him anything. Just be honest. Be safe.”
There was a small pause before she added, “Do you love him?”
“Of course I do.”
Kinsley gasped so loudly that I had to pull the phone away from my ear.
“Not like that,” I rushed to clarify, even as my stomach flipped violently. “I love him because he’s…him. Not because I’m in love.”
Tori’s quiet laugh lingered in the background. I straightened my spine and studied my reflection again. She was right.
Pasha was devastatingly attractive. Broad shoulders. Strong hands. That stupid, smug mouth. I knew him. Trusted him. Shared space with him in ways that required vulnerability long before this trip.
What I was feeling was desire layered over familiarity, proximity wrapped in performance. That didn’t equal love. It meant my body was responding to someone I felt secure with.
“Okay, I better go down there,” I muttered. “He threatened to go caveman if I didn’t.”
“Good,” Kinsley chirped. “Keep us updated.”
“And you don’t have to send a picture if you don’t want to,” Tori added.
“All I’m saying,” Kinsley continued, far too casually, “is losing your V-card to an experienced man is the only way to go. I could give you details, play by play. The Reaper was so sweet.”
“Kinsley!” I yelped. “Gross.”
“Love you,” she sang before hanging up.
The line went dead. I stared at the bikini again. The idea of putting it on was absolutely unhinged.
You survived far worse in your life than putting on a bathing suit. And isn’t this what you underwent torture for two days ago?
I glanced at my phone. I had five minutes. Not surprisingly, it pinged.
LEV:
Tick tock, tick tock.
PRINCESS:
I’m coming.
LEV:
Need any help? With coming, I mean. And by the way, I looked the store up. Twelve miles to paradise.
PRINCESS:
We went over this. It needs to be real. Wanna help me set up a MingleMe later? Maybe I’ll find my dream man there.
I dropped the phone onto the counter with a huff. The bikini wasn’t going to put itself on. I exhaled slowly and unbuttoned my shorts. Sliding them down, I tried to ignore my growing nerves. But they rose in waves the more skin I exposed.
The air felt cooler against my bare skin. Will I look okay in this? I hesitated before stepping into the bottoms, adjusting the strings higher on my hips. Even though I knew it was pointless, my mind dragged me straight into comparison mode.
Hannah was slim and long-limbed with that dancer’s build society adored. I turned sideways in the mirror. My body curved. Soft in places where hers was sharp. Full where she was narrow. My breasts walked into the room before I ever did. My hips flared naturally. My thighs touched.
There wasn’t a single thing about me that was waif-like. I swallowed. He didn’t look at Hannah the way he looked at me. That thought settled low in my stomach. I tied the top and wrestled the tiny triangles into place.
It required more adjustment than should have been legally allowed, and there was entirely too much side-boob threatening to spring free, but this was my body. It had carried me through worse than a beach reveal.
No sense in hating on it now. A quick gulp steadied me. I reached for my phone. Several photos later, one decent enough to send made its way to the girls. They deserved it after that pep talk.
TORI:
My god, you’re breathtaking. I want boobs like that!
KINS:
Okay, I’m checking my bi meter. Who the hell are you and wanna join my harem? JK, JK. I don’t share my men.
BELLA:
But Pasha is okay, right? The last few times you’ve referred to him as yours?
KINS:
Oh, honey, he’s all YOURS now. Wait until he sees you. Please text us an update. You should totally take a picture of his face when you walk down there.
BELLA:
What, you’re not going to send him this one too. Yeah, don’t think I don’t know about the betrayal from this morning.
KINS:
Don’t be mad, I love you. Low key, say the word, though, and I’ll send this one to him on your behalf. #rideordiesister
BELLA:
Fine. But don’t send it until I text you. I may chicken out and throw one of his shirts on before I go down. Serves him right.
KINS:
Deal.
TORI:
Have fun.
With one last deep breath, I turned to face the mirror.
Kinsley was fucking brilliant. The cut highlighted my hips instead of hiding them.
The top framed my chest rather than shrinking it.
Nothing about the bikini asked me to be smaller.
It just fit—every curve, and somehow it made my imperfections less noticeable.
And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.
With a slow inhale, I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin. I walked out of the bathroom and pulled on my jean shorts. Flip-flops were next. His discarded shirt from earlier was within reach, so I grabbed it.
For a moment, I debated putting it on. To hide or not to hide, that was the question. I draped it over my shoulder. The cotton brushed against my skin as his scent rose. It was warm, clean, and distinctly him. Breathing it in felt reckless and grounding all at once.
I took the lift down and walked toward the beach.
Outside, the air shifted. Salt and sunlight wrapped around me, and waves crashed in a steady rhythm.
The private stretch of sand gleamed beneath the afternoon sky.
I scanned the area for the group. It wasn’t hard to find them. Their laughter drifted over.
Allow yourself to be fully immersed in the moment.
That is what Marcel would say if he were here with me. I walked closer, thankful no one noticed me, yet. Pasha was handing the book I’d bought earlier to Chase. I smirked and pulled out my phone. My fingers trembled as I typed out a message to Kinsley.
BELLA:
I see him. Send it. Wish me luck!
With a quick tap, the message was sent. My phone disappeared into the back pocket of my shorts as I lifted my gaze and waited. A slow inhale expanded the lion on his chest.
Heat flooded my skin. I kicked off the flip-flops and put them in one hand before slipping the T-shirt from my shoulder. One final adjustment to the top to ensure a nip wasn’t on display and my spine straightened. I stepped forward, the sand warm beneath my feet.