Skin of a Sinner: A Dark Childhood Best Friends Romance

She sniffles. “Yes.”

“Say it.”

“We’re forever.”

“Swear it.”

“I promise I’ll never leave you again.”

I grin. “Why?”

She narrows her eyes, but wipes her tears away as she raises her chin. But all I can see is the string bracelets fastened to her wrist. Not one. Two. “Because you’re a crazy asshole, but I love you for it.”

I think I stop breathing. I think my brain has stopped working altogether. I’ve never heard the word before. Not directed at me, anyway. Is that what it sounds like? Is this the word that describes the feeling in my chest every time I think about her? She said she loves me. The words repeat over and over and over.

She loves me. She loves me. She loves me.

Bella loves me.

“A little overbearing. Impulsive. Kinda frightening,” she continues.

“Do I scare you?”

“Never.” She frowns. “Not anymore, at least.”

I look away dramatically, deep in thought, as I force my fingers to peel away from her skin. “I think we should change that.”

I need to see her smile. I need to get my old Bella back—the one who isn’t so frightened of shadows.

She scoffs. “I wouldn’t say golden retrievers are scary.”

That might single-handedly be the most offensive thing anyone has ever said to me, but there’s a mischievous grin on her lips I don’t want to disappear. That is my Bella. The one who snaps and then licks the wound later… Sometimes. Only if I don’t piss her off again.

“Hellhound is more accurate,” I say as I nudge her toward one of the benches.

As embarrassing as it was, she read Percy Jackson to me a few years ago as a way to practice her speech—and because the only way I can sit still long enough to read a book is if she’s reading it to me. Greek mythology became my whole ass personality after that. There was some kind of Greek reference in my drawings for so long, I am officially a master at drawing armor.

“Eh.” She shrugs and bites the inside of her lip. “You’re harmless. You’re more like a handbag dog; all bark and no bite.”

She’s all shit, and she knows it. But Jesus Christ, I’m hooked on every word that comes out of her mouth because she’s finally back. I’ve waited so long, and it was all worth it.

Bella, ever the timid princess she is, lowers herself onto her seat far too gracefully. I plop down onto the bench in a heap, which is far more fitting. Especially when a can of spray paint is in my bag—it’s my newly acquired hobby.

I shove my hand in my pocket to stop myself from reaching out for her, and my fingers brush against the cotton strings of the bracelet. I run my tongue over my teeth as I pull it out and show it to her. “I, uh.” I clear my throat. “I accidentally broke it.” She blinks at the red and black tangles in my palm. I’ll admit, it’s a little worse for wear from living in my pocket. “And you’ve kept it on you?”

“Of course. It matches my complexion.”

Her brows knit together, but it’s filled with understanding. “I can make you another.”

“No. Can you fix it?”

She shakes her head, and I hate it. I’m not surprised. It’s ripped past the point of return. All the edges are fraying, and the knots have come undone. Only a miracle could salvage it.

Her delicate fingers fiddle with one of the string bracelets around her wrist—the red-and-black one that’s an exact replica of the one I broke—and she unfastens it.

Time seems to slow as she grabs my hand and fastens it around my wrist. She was wearing me.

She was wearing me.

She was wearing me.

She was wearing me.

“Don’t break it this time,” she says with a playful bite.

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, reaching for my bag. I’ve been busy all week, and I can’t wait for the look on her face. “I got you something.”

She stills. “Wait. What do you mean you got me something? How did you know I was going to be here?”

I smirk. “I know everything.”

Bella slaps my arm, but it doesn’t hurt. She’s the only one who could get away with it. “You prick! You knew I was back, and you didn’t even say hi?”

She’s so adorable when she’s angry.

I wink at her. “Had to make you work for it.”

Bella gives me a look that tells me she thinks I’m insane. Yeah, probably, but she’s the only person who makes me feel this way. I’ll put all the blame on her for this one.

“As I was saying,” I drawl, and take out the crumpled bag. I don’t wrap presents—that shit just ain’t for me.

Bella once said, “It’s what’s on the inside that counts,” so I’m going to hold her to it.

“I got you something.” I hold the bag out to her, and just before she’s about to grab it, I snatch it just out of reach. “Manners, Princess.”

Those big brown eyes of hers turn into slits. “Please.”

“Please, who?”

She sighs, but there’s no mistaking the excited tilt of her lips. “Please, Mickey.”

God, it’s so good to hear her say my name. “That’s better.”

She holds out her hand expectantly, waiting for the bag, but when a breath passes, her expression turns hesitant, then worried, then scared, all in a matter of two seconds. The heat in my blood returns because that’s not something my Bella does. Not if I can help it.

“I’ve decided to drip feed.”

The creasing of her brows is seriously cramping my vibe.

“I want to see each of your reactions.” I wink, attempting to lighten the mood.

She bites her lip and looks up at me from her lowered lashes like she’s too scared to say what she wants. Which is completely fucked up by my standards. I like Bella whichever way she comes, but I like the real Bella the most.

And Jesus, do I want to kiss her.

“First up,” I say as I stick my hand down into the ripped paper bag and pull out a book. Rejected by the Alpha. She stares at the book, then me, then back at the book with so much bewilderment that I might as well have pulled out a gun.

Jerking forward, she goes to snatch it, but I hold it out of her reach. Bella looks around with frantic eyes before scrambling for me to grab the book.

“Down, Mouse,” I tease, putting two fingers on her forehead and gently pushing her back.

This wasn’t the reaction I was expecting, but I ain’t mad about it. She keeps glancing around like someone might see.

“Remember the day before you left, when we went to the bookstore?” With each passing second, her skin glows redder and redder. I cock my head. Why is she so flustered about the fact I got it for her? She picked it off the shelf, read the back, then checked how much she had in her wallet. Then promptly put it back. “I’ve held on to it since then.”

“You…” She’s completely beet red as she blinks a couple more times at my outstretched hand. Bella clears her throat and sits up straighter. “You can’t afford it.”

“Money can’t buy everything.”

Translation: I stole it.

My lips stretch into a grin. “But I’ll give this to you on one condition?”

“What?”

Her breath hitches, and she leans forward slightly, looking around again like someone might catch us doing something illegal.