The Shameless Hour (18 page)

It was at that moment when Bella decided to stage her rescue. She came wandering over to me with a comical smile. “I need to steal you.” She put her hands on my chest and rubbed my pecs. “There’s a half an hour until class, and I’m feeling so
tense
. I was hoping you could help me relax.”

I kept a straight face, but just barely. “Just give me a minute, Bells. I need one more minute here.”

Bella made a sad, pouty face that was entirely out of character. “I’ll be waiting, lover.” She sauntered off, hips swaying. I admired the view, because it was important to stay in character.

When I looked at Alison again, her eyes were hard. “Wait. You asked her to
rescue
you from this conversation? Is it really that hard to talk to me?”

That’s when I lost it a little. “
Cristo
. Is it really so hard to believe that someone would ever want to have sex with me?” Too bad I didn’t keep my voice down. A couple of freshman girls walking past us looked up quickly.

“Of course not,” Alison whispered. Her face went soft. “My counselor was right.”

“What about?”

“That sex was tied up with most people’s self-esteem. And that I almost certainly hurt your feelings because I didn’t want you that way. I’m sorry I’ve been so dense.”

“It’s…”
Argh
. “Can we just move on?”

“I was hoping that we could be friends.”

“Isn’t that all we ever were?”

Alison let out a shaky sigh. “I loved you, Rafe, and then I did something really stupid because I couldn’t figure out how to make it work. And I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” I whispered. Was I supposed to tell her now that all was forgiven? I just couldn’t make myself say the words. Although I didn’t like the idea that my pride had been wounded at least as badly as my feelings. “Thank you for telling me,” I added, hoping that it would be enough.

Alison gave me a watery smile. “You’d better go. Your friend is waiting for you. Actually, she’s looking like she’d like to kill me. You probably told her I was a monster.”

Yeah, I probably did
. “See you around, Alison.” Trying to be generous, I leaned forward and gave her a peck on the cheek. Then I spun around and caught up with Bella, who was waiting by the door. She did, in fact, look ornery. “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean for that to take so long.”

“Let me guess. She’s sorry, and she wants you back.”

“Eh,” I said. “She’s sorry, at least.”

“Would you take her back if she asked?”

“No,” I said quickly. “We weren’t… a good fit.” I was still trying to understand what Alison had told me. If she was right about not wanting sex with anyone, that meant most relationships were off the table. She’d told me once that she wanted kids, too. So that wouldn’t be easy.

It was pretty damned depressing, really.

“I have an idea,” Bella said. “About Beta Rho.”

“What?” That got my attention. “What kind of idea?”

“I read in
The Harkness
that they’re having a centennial celebration next month. ‘One Hundred Years of Beta Rho.’”

“Ugh. Just what we all need — a hundred years of assholes.”

“I know. But I figure that a bunch of their alumni will be in town for it. They’re having a big tailgate party for the last football game.”

“Are they now?” I sure hoped Bella wasn’t planning to go. I didn’t want her anywhere near a couple hundred drunk frat boys.

“The article said that they bought out a big block of tickets to the game.”

“So?”

“So, my wheels are turning.”

I opened our entryway door. “Bella, I can’t think of a single good thing that could come of you mingling at the Beta Rho centennial.”

“I don’t want to be
good
, Rafe. I want to be bad. Very bad.”

Dios
. “I don’t even want to know,” I said, and we began walking again.

Yes you do
, a little voice nagged.
You absolutely want to know
.

I
t was Saturday
, and I’d been to all my classes this week. Maybe it’s not much of an achievement, but every time I stepped outside the Beaumont gates, I still felt eyes on me. That freaking picture was still up on
Brodacious
, although Lianne had informed me that a set of photos of the new pledges dressed in drag had replaced me at the top of the page.

So that was something. You had to hand it to an organization which attempted to embarrass its own members almost as badly as the women they were finished with. They were equal-opportunity assholes.

At any rate I wasn’t going to flunk out of school. But my social life was
over
. My hockey friends had twenty hours of practice a week and a full game schedule on the weekends. Not that they’d forgotten about me. The week I’d staged my vanishing act, my phone lit up with texts from Pepe, Graham, Rikker and Trevi. They invited me to Capri’s. They sent me funny videos.

They tried.

But all I sent back were excuses. And when they didn’t give up, I started ignoring them altogether. They were busy, anyway, and I wanted them focused on hockey, like they should be. Last year, the hockey team was my whole world. Lately, my world was confined to entryway B.

And I had a dangerous case of cabin fever.

Grabbing the book that I was supposed to be reading, I stuck my feet in my Chuck T’s and headed down two flights of stairs. I knocked on Rafe’s common room door.

“Yeah!” The sound of his voice sent a happy little shiver up my back.

I opened the door to find him sprawled out on a generous leather sofa. “Hi,” I said, feeling shy all of a sudden.

He sat up. “Hi. You okay?”

“Sure.” I came in and shut the door. “Except there’s a small spider on the ceiling over my bed, and it’s staring at me.”

He smiled, and I felt a little flutter down below. Damn that smile. “You want me to kill it?”

“What?” I asked, swaying under the effects of his sexy mouth.

“The spider? Should I kill it?”

Focus, Bella
. “No. But could I, uh, read down here for a little while? I just need a change of scenery.”

Something warm flickered through those big brown eyes. “Sure. Come on over.” He bent his knees to make room for me.

I sat down, noticing that all the furniture was fancy. “Nice place you got here.”

“It’s Lord Bickley’s.”

“Ah.” The seat was so wide that when I stretched my legs out there was still plenty of room for Rafe’s.

He did the same, then picked up his French book again.

I turned my attention to my own reading. But after ten minutes or so, I got in trouble for tickling the arch of Rafe’s foot, which lay within arm’s reach.

“Not fair,” he said, jerking his foot way. “I have enough trouble with irregular French verbs without your help.”

“Sorry.” Even though his ticklish foot was still
right there
, I didn’t want to make a nuisance of myself. Rafe had become my best friend during what was otherwise the worst semester of my life. He was more important to me than I was capable of expressing.

At my end of the sofa, I struggled to read another essay for Women’s Studies. College coursework was all about theories, and after four years I was a little sick of them. On the other hand, my real life this year had been about as pleasant as walking repeatedly into various stone walls. So maybe the theories were the way to go.

Rafe’s suitemate Mat emerged from his room. “There’s a game tomorrow,” he said. “I was thinking of giving you the spread plus one…”

“No thanks,” Rafe said quickly.

I poked him in the thigh. “You didn’t even hear what game he’s talking about.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Rafe said from behind his book.

Mat snickered. “Fine. Later, guys,” he said, grabbing a knapsack off the floor. “I’m going to lock myself into a study carrel until my physics homework starts to make sense.”

Rafe gave his roommate a salute as he left the room. And the two of us on the sofa went back to our reading. At least Rafe did. My book wasn’t nearly as interesting as the warm weight of Rafe’s leg against mine. Instead of plowing through the next feminist theory, I indulged in a private fantasy. In my dirty little mind, I crawled onto Rafe’s body and tossed his book on the floor. Then I put my hand in the center of those fine abs, rubbing him gently, feeling all that muscle beneath my palm.

When he began to squirm, I’d slide that naughty hand down… down…

This lovely picture was interrupted by Rafe’s roommate Bickley stomping through the room again, looking for his “trainers.” “Ah,” he said, grabbing his shoes out of the corner and sitting on the coffee table to put them on. “I think I need to run some sprints. Care to join me?”

“Negative,” Rafe said. “Too much homework.”

Bickley snorted. “Bella, see what you can do to lighten this one up. He thinks he’s here to be a
scholar
.”

At the other end of the couch, Rafe made a grumpy noise.

His roommate did not notice, of course. Bickley wasn’t the sort of guy who understood how the words falling from his mouth affected other people. “Looks like you two kids have the place to yourself for a bit. Try
not
to behave yourselves.” He gave me a salacious wink.

Rafe dropped his book on his chest and looked at me. “Bella, it’s impossible to imagine why you gave up men.”

“Gave
up
on us?” Bickley grasped his chest in mock horror. “That sounds like a poor plan. Maybe she meant to
climb
up men.”

Rafe glared at Bickley. “Oh fuck
off
now.”

“Fine, fine. Ta ta for now.” When he left, the door closed with a bang.

“I’m sorry he’s such an ass,” Rafe said. The smile he flashed me was so beautiful I felt another shimmy in my stomach. The boy could melt granite with that smile.

“He didn’t mean anything by it. Bickley is a nervous talker.”

“What?”

“Some of that verbal diarrhea is because he doesn’t know what to say. Listen to your neighborhood psych major.”

Rafe made an irritated noise. “Is there a cure? Please say yes.”

“Duct tape?” I suggested.

“Great idea.”

We went back to our books for a moment, but I was still distracted by the warmth of his body against mine. Tucked into a sofa with Rafe was a really good place to be. It wasn’t enough for me, though. There were things besides reading that I’d rather do with him on this fine piece of furniture. I took a second to admire the way his Manchester United T-shirt hugged his chest, and the smooth skin on his hands as he turned the page.

“Rafe,” I whispered.

“Hmm?” He did not look up from the page.

“How come we’re not friends with benefits?”

Well,
that
got his attention. His eyes flew up to meet mine, and I saw a flicker of something hot pass through them before he schooled his features into a thoughtful frown. “What?”

“You know.” I gave his knee a nudge. “Studying is easier after you work off a little tension.”

He watched me for a long moment. “I can’t tell if you’re serious or not. But it doesn’t really matter. Friends with benefits is not my style. I don’t do casual.”

Seriously?
“Sure you do. I’m a witness. I can place you at the scene of the crime.”

Slowly, he shook his head. “You’re forgetting what happened afterward. You told me yourself that I was a jackass.”

Fuck me, I did. “That was just because the timing was so bad. We could do better.”

He let out a breath. “Nope. I don’t think I can.”

Holy crap
. I was losing my touch. I’d just been
rejected
, which rarely happened. And here’s the real kicker — I actually felt bad about it. Really bad. All the way to awful, even.

“Shit,” I whispered as an unfamiliar heat rose up in my eyes. I felt tears forming.
Actual tears
. I raised my book in front of my face, creating a rather dubious curtain of shame. If I had any luck at all left in the universe, maybe Rafe wouldn’t notice.

“Bella?” he whispered.

Yep. No luck left. Not even a speck.

“
Cristo
, Bella. It’s not you.”

I would never again believe those words. From anyone.
Thank you, Whittaker. And thank you, medical diagnosis
. I threw the book down, pressing my fingers into the corners of my eyes.

Rafe sighed, throwing his book on the floor, too. Which I’d fantasized about not a half hour ago. But in my fantasy he’d done it so we could have sex, and not because I’d become a weepy
girl
.

“Come here,” he said, reaching forward, closing his big hands around my legs just above the knee. With a good tug, I slid across the leather until I was closer to him. Then he took my hands and pulled. “Over here,” he coaxed.

Bending my knees, I ended up in his lap. He wrapped both arms around me, and I tucked my chin onto his shoulder, so he wouldn’t see me looking teary.

Rafe held me tightly, making it even harder not to cry. Because the feel of those strong arms around me was exquisite. He smelled like clean man and laundry detergent. So I burrowed even further into him, with no plans to ever leave.

Welp. Sorry, Rafe
.
I’m never coming out of here
. I was going to live out my life right here, hiding in Rafe’s neck. He would have to have me surgically removed. Not only was I comforted, but I was enjoying the delicious scrape of his Saturday whiskers against my cheek.

“Didn’t mean to offend you,” he said, running a hand down the back of my head. “It’s not that I don’t want to.”

Ugh
. “You don’t have to lie to me. I know it’s
icky
, all right? I already
know
.”

His hand came to a stop on my back. “What’s icky?”

“Me,” I gasped. “I get it. It’s
gross
… that I had…” I couldn’t even say it out loud. To Rafe, who already knew! I was never getting my mojo back. Never ever.

“
That’s
what you think?” he whispered. “Really?”

I pulled my head back and looked into those chocolate eyes. The intensity I found there made my heart stutter. “Isn’t it?”

“No, baby. You could never be gross.” He frowned. “You really don’t believe me, do you?”

Slowly, I shook my head.

He sighed, his shoulders sagging. Then he muttered, “
Dios
, forgive me for what I am about to do.”

I didn’t see it coming until Rafe cupped his hand under my jaw. He brushed my cheekbone with his thumb, and I swear to God I developed an extra set of nerve endings right then and there. He leaned in and brushed his mouth over the corner of mine, sweeping up my cheek and over my ear.

“You,” he whispered, pausing to touch his tongue to my earlobe, “will
always
be the sexiest girl I have ever known.”

It was the classiest, swooniest thing anyone had ever said to me. And my poor, long-ignored body lit up like a sparkler on the Fourth of July. While I quivered, Rafe left gentle kisses up the side of my neck. I had to tip my head back to give him better access, and I found myself squeezing my legs together against the electric current suddenly sizzling through my fun zone.

Later I would realize he almost certainly meant to stop there. The hot sigh that Rafe gave off next sounded like a capitulation. “
Belleza
,” he growled. “Give me that mouth.”

I wasted no time. Leaning in, I pushed my aching breasts against his chest and I dipped my head for the hot kiss that was waiting for me. Rafe groaned at the contact. Two hands slid down, grasping my hips, straightening my body out until I was spread out like a blanket on his beautiful body. Arching his neck, he nibbled my lips, as if reacquainting himself with the shape of my mouth.

Every touch seemed to shoot waves of heat through my entire being. I’d been
starving
for this. Then he parted his lips. A bossy tongue invaded my mouth. And…
holy fuck
. I practically burst into flames. Even as our tongues met and tangled, I felt myself get wet for him. That had to be a personal record. Either I got this boy’s clothes off immediately, or we were going to need one of the fire extinguishers hanging out in the stairwell.

It didn’t matter that I was on top of him. Each kiss I received was like a command. There was something
fierce
about the way Rafe kissed. About the way he did
everything
. He reminded me of the lion at the Bronx Zoo — often quiet and still. But when he roared, the effect was earthshaking.

And I wanted to be shaken.

I nuzzled his neck, stretching the collar of his T-shirt to reveal more skin, kissing and sucking every inch I uncovered. He made a desperate noise, and planted his hands on my ass, holding me tightly.

Yes! Yesyesyesyes. There was a very hard dick pressing against me, and I shifted against it. The closer we got, the happier I felt. But there were too many clothes in the way. I reared up to kiss him again, and our tongues tangled. “Rafe,” I moaned into his mouth.

“Mmm,” he answered, giving my ass such a dirty, sexy squeeze that I thought I might lose my mind.

I flopped to the side so I could touch him. Sliding a hand down his body, I let my fingers wander over his waistband and onto the hard bulge at his crotch. “I want to play with the nicest cock in the neighborhood.” I flipped the button on his jeans.

That’s when everything stopped.

First, his hand reached down to catch mine, pushing me off his fly. Then, he turned his face away, taking a big breath of air.

Oh no
, my heart murmured. I knew immediately that I had wrecked everything. It’s just that my lust-muddled brain was too scrambled to process the reason.

“Bella,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I can’t… we can’t go through with this.”

“What?” I became fixated on the fact that he wasn’t looking me in the eye. Whatever the problem was, it was so bad he couldn’t even face me.

“I want to,” he said quickly. “But it can’t be like this.”

I began to panic. “God, why not?”

He turned his chin to finally look at me, and it was almost worse. Because I saw real regret there. “Like I said. I don’t do casual.”