The Shameless Hour (The Ivy Years #4)

Bella

Even though I was exhausted, I didn’t want to turn off my light.

I wasn’t a girl who scared easily — not at all. But the last time I’d fallen asleep had been against my will. Many hours later, I’d woken up on a dirty wooden floor. It’s not that I thought it would happen again. But I had a lingering smudge of dread in my gut. I couldn’t relax.

So I sat there in my bed, a book abandoned on my lap, just waiting to feel drowsy. Instead, felt only wired and jumpy.

When I heard footsteps on the landing outside my door, all the hair on my neck stood up.

The tap on my door was so gentle, I found my voice. “Yeah?”

“It’s Rafe.”

When I opened the door, he stood there in a T-shirt and flannel pants, a book in his hand. “Hey.” His big brown eyes studied me, as if performing an assessment.

“Hey,” I echoed. I turned to get away from his stare, heading back to the bed and climbing in.

“Did you eat dinner?”

“Yes, Mom.” As long as granola bars count. I shouldn’t be sassing Rafe. He was just trying to be nice.

“Okay,” he said slowly, as if he didn’t think he should believe me. An uncomfortable beat passed, and I was sure he was about to open his mouth and ask me again what happened last night.

I was never going to tell him.

“I did the Urban Studies reading,” he said instead. He walked right over to sit on the edge of the bed. “Move over,” he demanded.

Seriously? “You want to talk about Urban Studies at one in the morning?” I moved over, though.

“Urban renewal is older than I thought,” he said, as if I cared. “The renovation of Paris was in 1853.” He flipped open the book in his hands and read a paragraph.

I yawned. Then I rolled toward the wall to get away from the facts of nineteenth-century urban renewal.

Rafe stretched out on top of the quilt beside me, trapping me under my covers. He rolled, too, putting the book on my hip. “It says here that the streets were widened for military maneuvers. Have you seen Paris?” He gave me a little nudge when I didn’t answer right away.

“Mm-hmm,” I said, suddenly sleepy. It was easy to finally let my guard down now that my neighbor was trying to bore me to death.

“I haven’t been there,” he said quietly. “But now I want to go. Listen to this…”

Rafe’s voice droned on behind me. The warmth of his body seeped through my covers and heated my back. He was like a big sturdy wall between me and the rest of the world. I began to relax, muscle by muscle. I drifted on the sound of his voice.

Sometime later I heard the click of my lamp shutting off, but the solid heat of Rafe’s body did not disappear. At some point I became aware of his slow breathing, and the faint thud of a book dropping to the floor.

I slept on.

Thirteen

Rafe

For the second time, I woke up in Bella’s bed.

When I opened my eyes, I saw her slanted ceiling. She was lying on her side, her butt tucked against me, the soles of her feet against my calf. Carefully, I turned my head to see her more clearly. Her back rose and fell slowly as she slept. Relaxed in her sleep, she looked sweet and so vulnerable. I had a strong urge to roll onto my side and curl up around her body.

Not going to happen. I’d had that chance once, and I’d handled it very poorly.

Quietly, I got out of bed. She didn’t wake at all, not even when I fumbled into my shoes.

Grabbing my book off the floor, I tiptoed out, leaving her to rest.

I didn’t speak to her on Monday at all, though I did get a glimpse of her when she came through the lunch line. She wore a long-sleeve T-shirt and jeans, and a tight expression on her face. Since she was up and around, I counted it as a win.

Monday night her light was out when I got back from the library. So I left her alone. Tuesday morning we had Urban Studies together.

She didn’t show.

I sat through the lecture, worried about her. The only thing that kept me from ditching class to check on her was the fact that Professor Giulio was lecturing about the affordable housing movement, which Bella and I would need to understand to complete our part of the project. So I did my best to take notes.

The minute class was over, I got up and headed back to Beaumont House. Thankfully I wasn’t on the lunch schedule today. Knocking on Bella’s door got me nowhere. “It’s Rafe,” I called, as if that would make a difference. “Are you in there?”

Silence.

After a moment, Lianne’s door opened behind me, and I spun around. She beckoned, and I followed her into her room, letting the door fall closed behind me.