*Isabella's POV*
I took a deep breath and walked over, my heels clicking softly on the polished floor. "This place is nice," I said, sliding into the empty chair between them. "Who picked it?"
"Me," they both said at the exact same time.
Oh, for fuck's sake.
"I chose the restaurant," Damien said, his voice a low, possessive rumble.
"Because I told you she likes Italian," Jacob retorted, a smug little smirk on his face.
"I knew that, way before you did," Damien countered, his eyes narrowing.
Oh well, I thought, a slow smile spreading across my face. This might be fun.
"Are you boys done?" I asked, my voice laced with sweet, dripping sarcasm.
They both stopped, turning to look at me, and glared at each other for a moment before the tension melted away.
"Of course. Excuse us," Damien said, his tone immediately softening as he addressed me.
"Way for an evening to start," I teased, a little giggle escaping my lips. "Don't worry, I find it quite amusing." I picked up the menu, hiding my smile behind it. Yeah, this was definitely going to be fun.
"Should we order?" I asked, trying to steer the conversation into safer, less... explosive waters.
They both nodded, flagging down a waiter with a synchronized, almost creepy efficiency. The poor guy took our orders with a slightly terrified expression before scurrying away.
Then, the silence descended again, but this time it was heavier. Jacob leaned forward, a knowing, almost predatory look in his eyes. "So, Isabella... have you ever been in love?"
Woah. Talk about a fucking escalation. My heart hammered against my ribs.
"This is not a question for a first date, Jacob," Damien said, his voice a low, warning growl. He shot his brother a look that could curdle milk.
"Sorry," Jacob said, not sounding sorry at all. "Isabella and I have been on a couple of dates already." He smirked, and I could feel the heat of Damien's glare from the other side of me.
"Rub it in my face, why won't you," Damien bit out.
Jacob just chuckled, completely unfazed. "No, I haven't," I said, cutting through their pissing contest. My voice was a little sharper than I intended.
"Mind you, you're usually so chatty," Jacob teased, pushing his luck.
"There's not that much to say, okay?" I said, my frustration bubbling to the surface. "I'm not that kind of girl, okay? I was never in love." I said it with a finality I hoped would shut him down.
But Jacob, the persistent bastard, just leaned in closer. "I understand you had a boyfriend just some weeks ago. And you were living with him."
My blood ran cold. "How do you know that?" I asked, my voice low. He had that same fucking knowing look on his face. Fuck. Cole told him. I'm going to fucking kill Cole.
"Yes, I did," I replied, my voice tight. "But it wasn't like that."
"So how was it?" Jacob asked, relentless.
Damien sighed, rolling his eyes, and I did the same. Jesus Christ.
"Come on, Isabella. We have all night," Jacob pushed.
Fine. If he wanted to know, I'd fucking tell him.
"Okay, so it was my longest relationship. I also had hookups. One-night stands. Casual things, you know, until Harry. Harry was a guy I was casually seeing. But one time, he insisted on staying the night. Then he kept asking me to bring my things over for a weekend at his place. My roommates from back then were a total mess, always had issues with the police and all that shit, so I was happy I could stay at his place for a change. And it was nice, for once, not having to make a fucking effort to get sex."
I paused, taking a sip of water. "Sex was a necessity for me. But with school and work, having to make an effort to go out and find someone... it was getting tiring. So that was it. We were never in love or anything, just a win-win situation." I let out a short, bitter laugh. "More like a win for him, since he was drunk half of the time and I was the one cleaning up after his mess." I said, my voice flat, devoid of any emotion. It was just a statement of fact.
Just then, the waiter returned, saving me from having to dissect my pathetic excuse for a love life any further. He set down our starters with quiet efficiency, and for a few minutes, the only sounds were the clinking of cutlery against plates. It was a fucking relief.
"Thank you for opening up, doll," Jacob said, his voice softer now, a stark contrast to his earlier grilling. "So he wasn't the one for you. But I don't believe you're not 'that kind of girl.' Everyone needs love. Even the cold motherfucker next to you needed it once." He smirked, nudging his head in Damien's direction, making Damien roll his eyes.
Oh, two can play at this game, Jacob.
"What about you, Jacob?" I asked, setting my fork down and turning to face him fully. "You like making us all uncomfortable. Have you ever been in love?"
The question caught him off guard. The playful smirk faltered for just a second. "I've said it once or thrice," he replied, and for the first time since I'd met him, he sounded... nervous. "But I think it was just infatuation."
"You don't say," I teased, my voice dripping with sweet, sweet sarcasm.
"I rush things sometimes," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "And get carried away too easily."
"Oh no, who would've thought?" I said, my eyes wide with mock surprise before I broke into a giggle. I picked up my menu again, using it as a shield. "Do you have any other uncomfortable questions, or can we order the main course?"
"As a matter of fact, I..." Jacob was saying, clearly not ready to let it go, when his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, his expression tightening.
"I have to take this, I'm sorry," he said, his voice all business again. He stood up, giving us a quick, apologetic nod before walking away, his phone already pressed to his ear.
And just like that, the energy at the table shifted. The playful tension evaporated, replaced by a heavy, charged silence.
And then there were two.