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.