The Shameless Hour (The Ivy Years #4)
Page 98Awkward, but I made good time.
Central Campus Library was not a small place. I began on the ground level, searching every carrel, chair and table. It wasn’t too crowded, given the hour. But I did not spot Rafe anywhere.
Okay, I was officially off the chick flick script. And people were starting to stare.
On the lower level, it was the same story. I couldn’t find him anywhere. The library would close soon. The only place I hadn’t searched were the weenie bins, so I began peeking through the little windows of each one. I was discouraged. Maybe Rafe was out at a party.
Halfway down the row, I had to stand on my tiptoes to see a weenie bin’s occupant because someone had slumped over on the desk. Peering in, I saw a set of broad shoulders, and a gorgeous masculine face asleep on a book. I opened the door a few inches. “Rafe?”
“Mmm?” he said.
I went into the tiny room and slid the door closed behind me. “Rafe?” I whispered, putting my hand on his shoulder. He felt warm and solid beneath my touch.
He lifted his head from the textbook, and I watched him wake up fast. “Bella? Are you okay?” He turned in his seat, and his eyes swept me from top to toe, as if looking for damage. “What’s wrong?”
What’s wrong. Here was a boy who had done so much for me, only to have me reject him. And when I woke him from a sound sleep, the first thing he did was try to figure out if I was in need of help.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I whispered. “I just wanted to see you.”
His eyes went squinty for a second, as if he was trying to solve a math problem. He propped his head in one hand. “It’s late,” he said, closing his eyes again.
“I know, Captain Obvious. It’s late. But I hope it’s not too late.” I dropped both hands to his shoulders. My thumbs stroked the skin of his neck, while his head tipped forward to land against my stomach.
“I don’t know what you’re saying,” he whispered. “But I like the visit.”
“I’m saying…” I began. But I wasn’t sure how to proceed. I’d never told a guy that I’d wanted to be with him. Except for Fucker Tanning. And I’d long blocked all the sweet things I’d ever said to him out of my brain. When I was in love with Graham, I’d never told him. I’d never hinted. Not once. Too risky.
Rafe waited. He waited by reaching up to slowly trace the line of my forearm with his thumb. It felt distractingly nice.
Focus, Bella! “I’m saying that I think you were right. We’re, um, compatible.”
Rafe smiled without opening his eyes. “You think so, huh?”
“All right,” he murmured. “What do you want to do about that?”
“Uh.” Wasn’t it obvious? “We can be together.”
“Huh,” he said, opening his eyes. “I don’t know, Bella. We need to be sure that there aren’t any misunderstandings, here. I’m not sure that ‘being together’ is clear enough. Spell it out for me. You’d be my…?”
“Well…” I cleared my throat. “I’d be your…”
Rafe grinned.
I pinched his shoulder. “You’re enjoying this.”
“A little bit.”
“Do we need labels, though? I’m trying to say that we should be exclusive. I want that. But a girlfriend is someone who is always on the phone with her boyfriend, or waiting for him to call. Or always talking about him, or making sure their plans line up for everything. She never says yes to anything without checking with him first…” Yeah, it’s really no surprise I’d never signed up for that.
That was all? “I do care.”
He smiled again, and it was like the sun coming out. “I know, baby. Now come here.” Rafe pulled me onto his lap and wrapped both arms around me.
For a moment I hesitated. I’d been a one-woman show for so long I wasn’t sure I was ready to fold myself into a man’s embrace. But he was warm and sturdy, and I tucked my head against his shoulder and sighed. I suddenly realized the feeling was really familiar. I’d been leaning on him for months without ever admitting how much.
And this was really nice.
His big hand cupped my head and then stroked my hair. His lips found my forehead, and the kiss he placed there was so sweet I felt a lump in my throat.