When he got a look at my face, he crossed the room in three paces. “What’s the matter?” He pulled me to his chest without giving me a chance to answer. “Did something happen?”
“Bella,” the dean said behind me. “Please don’t answer. His testimony has to be unbiased.”
“My testimony?” His voice rose dangerously. “Forget that. Tell me who made her cry. Bella never cries.”
This used to be true. “I’m fine,” I said from the comfort of his sweater. “They were just asking me—”
“Bella!” the dean interrupted.
I pushed back to look up into Rafe’s eyes. “Nothing happened to me today,” I tried. “This is old news.”
His shoulders relaxed. “Oh.”
“Mr. Santiago, if you would please step into my office.”
“I will do that as soon as my girlfriend does not look so freaked out.” He led me over to a chair.
“I’m okay,” I promised, blinking away my latest batch of tears. “I promise. The sooner you talk to her, the sooner we can go home.”
He was still frowning, and I loved that frown. I didn’t think I was the sort of girl who wanted a knight in shining armor. But apparently the occasional display of chivalry was pretty fucking sexy. Who knew?
“Don’t go anywhere,” he ordered me in his bossiest tone.
I gave him a salute. He kissed me on the top of my head and went into the dean’s office.
Thirty-Three
Bella
After my painful interview with Whomping Wilma, things calmed down again.
For the second time in ten days, Beta Rho made the front page of the Harkness newspaper. According to the latest article, an unnamed football player had made allegations against his own fraternity, and the college had launched an investigation. No further details were given due to the ongoing investigation.
My name was nowhere in the article, either. I read it three times to make sure.
And anyway, there were other things to worry about. Our Urban Studies project was finally due the next day.
So, on a Wednesday night during the first week of December, Rafe and I were putting the finishing touches on our half of the presentation. He sat in my desk chair, and I lay on the bed.
I got the distinct impression he was keeping his distance on purpose, and it made me want to test his will power. I said something really subtle to test the waters. “So, baby, if you just turned that chair a few degrees, I could blow you while you check that spreadsheet.”
He dropped his face into one hand. “Bella. Maybe we should go to the library. Because this is due tomorrow.”
“We can go to the library if you want. I can blow you there, instead. All I’d have to do is crawl underneath one of those study carrels…”
“Nooooo,” he groaned. “The library is where I used to go to keep my mind on the books. There goes that.”
“Not my problem.” I stood and put my hands over his strong shoulder muscles, squeezing firmly. “How much more time do you think it needs, anyway? I could leave you alone if you give me some parameters.”
He dropped his head back against my belly and looked up. “You know I don’t really want you to leave me alone.”
I kissed his forehead. “I get that. But after we win this thing, we are going to celebrate. We’ll have champagne and do it on every piece of furniture in this room.”
His forehead crinkled. “There are only two pieces of furniture. Or three, if you count the desk.”
I dropped down to put my mouth beside his ear. “I want you to bend me over the desk.”
Rafe gave a little grunt of longing.
“And don’t forget to count the floor, all the walls and perhaps the ceiling.”
He began to shake with laughter.
There was a knock on my door. “Bella?” It was Graham’s voice.
This was a surprise. I crossed to the door and opened it. “Hey! What’s up?”
He stepped into the room, giving Rafe a wave. “Hey, man.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Bella, I’ve come to take you to Capri’s, and I won’t take no for an answer.”
Rafe looked up from his spreadsheet, and I knew I couldn’t bail on our project. For once I felt an honest-to-God twinge of disappointment. A few beers with the hockey team sounded awesome right now. Which either meant I was finally feeling better, or just really sick of studying. Or both.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “We have a presentation due tomorrow.”
“I’ll finish up,” Rafe volunteered. “You go.”