The Shameless Hour: A Sports Romance (The Ivy Years Book 4)
: Chapter 33

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.”

But that wouldn’t be right. “Not fair.” I sighed. “I haven’t been, um, easy to work with this week.”

I saw him bite his lip and lock his eyes on the screen. He was charmingly discreet.

Graham cleared his throat. “Look, Bells. Even if it’s for only half an hour. It’s time to stop ducking us.”

Aw. I threw myself at Graham’s chest and hugged him. “I love you, and I love what you’re trying to do. And I promise I’ll come out soon. But it’s not a good time.”

“Just come for thirty minutes,” he pressed.

“No.” I gave him a little shove toward the door. “Soon.”

Graham gave me an odd smile. “Soon.” He walked out.

“You could go, you know,” Rafe said.

“Let’s just finish up,” I said. “No funny business. Scout’s honor.”

“You were a girl scout?”

“Nope!”

He laughed.

There was another knock on the door.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” I said. “Graham…” I opened the door. But it wasn’t Graham standing there, it was his boyfriend Rikker. “Hi. Fancy meeting you here.”

Rikker grinned. “Bella, please come to Capri’s.”

“Okay, you are both adorable. And if you want, I’ll get out my calendar and we’ll choose a date to go out. But tonight isn’t good.”

“I think it is,” Rikker said, grinning like a maniac.

“Um, that’s nice. But no. Soon, okay?”

“Okay!” Chuckling, he walked out.

When the door closed, Rafe and I looked at each other. “Was that just a little weird?”

The bathroom door opened. “Who keeps knocking?” Lianne wanted to know.

“You know,” Rafe said, snapping the laptop shut. “I think Dios is trying to say that we’ll finish this tomorrow morning.”

Someone knocked on the door. Again.

“Don’t…” I said.

But Lianne opened it. And Trevi stood smiling on the other side. “Evening Bella. And friends. I came to invite you to Capri’s.”

Rafe started laughing. “Bella, I think they’re trying to tell you something.”

“Bella!” another voice echoed in the stairwell. Then several voices began to chant my name. “Bella! Bella! Bella!”

“Oh my God,” Lianne said. She went to the door, peeking around Trevi. I didn’t have to follow her to know what she saw. Because I knew those voices.

The entire hockey team was in the stairwell, calling my name.

“Oh, crap,” I said. I had to press my fingertips against my tear ducts because they suddenly threatened to leak.

“Come on,” Trevi pressed. “Where’s your jacket? We’re not going to take no for an answer.”

“It’s right here,” Rafe said, standing up to grab my hockey jacket out of the closet. He draped it over my shoulders. “Go already. It’s only eight o’clock.”

Getting ahold of myself, I grabbed Rafe’s elbow. “You’re coming, too.”

“I am?”

“Yep. And so is Lianne.”

“I really don’t think so,” my neighbor argued, breaking for the bathroom door.

I caught her by the tiny waist. “You are getting out of here for an hour, okay? If it’s good for me, it’s good for you.”

“Bella! Bella! Bella!” was still coming from the stairwell.

I went out onto the landing, where more than a dozen of my friends, in matching jackets, smiled up at me. Tears threatened again. “I’m coming! Jeez! Sixty seconds!”

Swallowing hard, I went back into my room and clicked off the lamp. “Let’s go, guys. Now.”

Lianne shook her head, even as I went past her to get her coat from her room. Returning, I pushed it into her arms. “I’m not trying to drag you to a frat party, okay? It’s a pizza joint. For an hour. You’ll live.”

“Can I at least get my hat?”

“You have fifteen seconds,” I said.

Not ten minutes later, I was standing in Capri’s, where the scent of stale beer and pizza grease was as welcoming as anything I’d ever smelled. It was Monday night, which meant the place was uncrowded. The hockey team occupied the middle room, and I ended up at the head of the big, central table, with Lianne and Rafe to my right and Graham, Rikker and Pepe to my left.

“Have we met before?” Pepe asked Rafe, offering him a hand to shake.

“Maybe not,” I said. “Rafe is my neighbor and…” My throat tightened as I realized what I was about to say. The team was never going to believe this. “My boyfriend,” I eked out, my voice cracking a little on the word.

Rafe’s face lit with amusement at my delivery. I was surely catching hell for this later.

Or now, maybe, because Lianne drained her beer glass and set it down with a thunk. “CUT!” she yelled. “Bella, you blew the line! Say it again. You can do better. Once more, with feeling.”

Oh, hell. Rafe was laughing now, while Graham and Pepe exchanged a startled look.

“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “Rafe is my boyfriend,” I articulated. “Did everyone hear? Should I repeat it for the back row?”

“Wow,” Trevi said from the next table.

“What le fuck?” Pepe echoed.

“Really?” Rikker grinned.

Someone poured Lianne another glass of beer, and she took a big gulp. “That’s better.” She sniffed.

“Just for that, I’m going to make you eat a slice of pizza,” I threatened. I’d never seen Lianne drink anything before. She would need something in her stomach if she was going to discover beer tonight. Sometimes I forgot she was just a freshman.

“I’ll go order a pie,” Rikker said, standing up. Before he walked away, he leaned down and whispered in my ear. “Your boyfriend is hot.”

I pinched his ass. “Don’t even think about stealing this one, asshole.”

Laughing, he pecked my cheek and walked away.

After pizza, we began playing quarters. Lianne didn’t join in. Instead, she was leaning against the old-fashioned jukebox, chatting up Trevi’s younger brother. We’d taken to calling Trevi-the-younger “DJ,” because that was his job — choosing all the music played during face-offs at our hockey games. I’d never spent any time trying to guess what Lianne’s type of guy would look like, but I could see that DJ might suit her. I could only hear snippets of their conversation, but the two of them seemed to be trying to out-nerd each other with obscure song titles.

Unfortunately, Lianne seemed to be drinking an awful lot of Capri’s beer. Weak as the stuff was, it was working its magic. Lianne looked flushed and glassy-eyed.

“Excuse me, guys,” I said. “My little frosh neighbor is looking unsteady. I might have to send her home.”

“Bells, you didn’t tell us you had Princess Vindi as your floormate,” Trevi said. “Don’t you worry that she’ll disappear you in your sleep?”

I slapped him on the back. “I’ll bet she’s never heard that one before.”

“Can you imagine?” Rikker asked, lining up the quarters on the table. “Little kids probably ask to see her wand.”

“So? Girls ask to see my wand all the time,” Trevi boasted. He was rewarded with several groans.

Making my way over to Lianne, I tried to assess the damage. “How are we doing over here?”

“Awesome!” Lianne yelled. “We are playing makelists,” she slurred. “I mean, making playlists.”

I gave DJ a glance. He just grinned.

“Maybe you should head home?” I suggested to Lianne.

“Maybe,” she conceded, clutching the jukebox for support.

“DJ, could you do the honors?” I would’ve been happy to take her home myself, but since the entire team had dragged me out, I had planned to stay a little longer. Also, DJ was a good guy, and Lianne deserved to make a new friend, or ten.

But his face shut down when I made the suggestion, and he shook his head. “Can’t do that. Sorry. Should I ask Graham?”

“I got it,” Rafe said, appearing at my shoulder. “I’ll walk Lianne home. You stay a while longer.”

“Are you sure?”

He kissed me on the neck. “Perfectly. I’ll look over our spreadsheet one more time, and wait for you in your room. Besides, I wouldn’t be too shocked if Lianne spent some quality time in your bathroom tonight. If I’m upstairs, I’ll be able to make sure she’s okay.”

I put my arms around his neck. “You really are the best one, you know that?”

“Been trying to tell you that, belleza.” He grinned down at me. “Glad you’re listening now.” He kissed me, which elicited whoops and catcalls from the hockey team.

My whole life, I’ve never been one to blush. But I think my face turned bright red right then.

Rafe released me, then took Lianne by the hand. “Let’s go home, okay?” he prodded her. “I think the cold air will do you some good.”

“Kay,” she said, swaying.

Rafe tucked an arm around her shoulders and steered Lianne toward the door. I watched them go. Maybe some girls would be reluctant to ask their boyfriends to walk a beautiful movie star home, but it didn’t faze me. Rafe was solid gold, all the way to the center.

Why had it taken me so long to figure out?

“Belluh!” Pepe called out. “One more game?”

“Sure,” I agreed. “Just let me hit the girls’ room.” I maneuvered toward the dark hallway at the back of Capri’s. It wasn’t the nicest john in the world, that was for damned sure. The men’s room door opened up in front of me, and I was suddenly face to face with one of the guys I’d just spent weeks avoiding.

Dash McGibb.

Shit! My stomach dove, and I took a big step backward, crashing into a chair.

“Easy,” he said, reaching out to steady the chair.

But I wasn’t taking anything easy. I spun around to get away from him.

“Bella.” There was something in his voice that slowed me down. I turned to check his face.

“Wait,” he said quietly. “There’s something I need to say to you.”

I waited. But I could hear blood rushing in my ears, and the urge to flee was strong. If the urge to avoid looking afraid wasn’t also strong, I would have probably pinballed from one piece of furniture to another, making tracks out of there.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for what happened to you.” Dash cleared his throat. “Wait, that’s not good enough. I’m sorry I let it happen.”

“You mixed my drink,” I hissed.

Slowly, he nodded. “I told the dean everything. Whittaker told me to make the ‘special.’ So I did it. But then I regretted it immediately. And when he decided to recruit some help for his—” Dash took a deep breath “—Artwork, I said no way.”

“You did?”

He ran a hand through his short hair. “Yeah. I stayed, though, because the whole thing was really freaky. And I knew that since I was stupid enough to mix that drink, whatever happened afterward was on me. So I watched to make sure they wouldn’t do anything dangerous.”

My urge to flee had morphed into something hotter and angrier. Now I wanted to pick up one of the chairs and brain him with it. “They didn’t rape me, right? So you didn’t feel the need to stop them. Carry on, guys. It’s only marker.”

Dash pushed the heels of both hands against his temples. “I know you hate me, Bella. But I didn’t think I could stop them, short of calling the police. And since I’d just committed a crime, I didn’t do that. That’s how Whittaker sets up all his shit — he always makes sure that someone else is more culpable than he is. I didn’t understand until then. And I never went back.”

“What do you mean?”

“I slept on the sofa that night, in the same room where they left you alone to sleep it off. And after you left in the morning, so did I. And I haven’t been back since.”

“You haven’t?”

He shook his beefy head. “But I was still guilty of mixing your drink, so I didn’t say anything. Not until last week. They started harassing me, so I had a chat with my father, and then I went to the dean.”

“Why were they harassing you?” I asked, as the hair stood up on the back of my neck.

He chuckled. “There was a certain prank at the football game. They thought I did it.”

“What?” Beta Rho thought an idiot like Dash McGibb had pulled my stunt?

He gave me a wry smile. “Don’t look so outraged, Bella. You’ll give yourself away.”

Shit! Focus! “You must be in a pile of trouble for telling the dean what you helped Whittaker do.”

“You bet.” He nodded. “I got a year’s probation. And I’m off the football team.”

My inner bitch gave a snort. What kind of punishment was that? “What about the cops?”

He looked up with a wince. “After the dean finishes her investigation, she’ll probably ask you if you want to press charges against me. I asked my dad’s lawyer, and he said that’s probably what would happen.”

“Oh.” Oh. Jesus Christ. His fate was in my hands. How appropriate, really. And how strange.

The moment stretched on. We had a staring contest, which I won when Dash looked at his shoes again. “My dad’s lawyer probably wouldn’t want me talking about it. But I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. G’night.” He met my eyes one more time before walking away.

I don’t think I even answered him, I was too busy trying to understand what had just happened. How absolutely trippy.

After taking a few minutes in the (gross) Capri’s bathroom, I went back to our table. The quarters game had wound down, and all my friends were finishing their beers. Someone had taken my seat, so I took a seat on Graham’s lap, the way I used to. And that felt… fine, actually. The old ache was finally lifting. I looked from face to face, each one lit by the soft light of Capri’s neon beer signs, and dusty old lamps which hung from the ceiling.

I’d never be able to say that this was an easy year at Harkness. But not everything had gone wrong, and some things had gone very, very right. “What time is it?” I asked suddenly.

Graham lifted his hand to peer at his watch. “Almost eleven.”

“Damn. I have a presentation to give tomorrow. Walk me home?”

“Sure.” Graham gave me a friendly nudge off his lap. “You coming?” he asked Rikker.

And that was trippy, too. Graham never used to acknowledge Rikker in public. That’s why it had taken me so long to figure out they were a couple.

“Think I will,” Rikker said, getting up.

“Night, guys!” I called to the hockey players who were still there.

“Bella! Bella!” Trevi chanted.

A couple of other guys picked up the chant, so I held my hands up to silence them. “Stop already. But will you please beat Harvard this weekend? Because I’m going to be watching.” And not on TV, either. I had the sudden urge to see some hockey games again.

“You bet, lady.” Trevi winked at me from across the room. “Then you’ll come out with us afterward, right?”

“Sure.” This whole being-seen-in-public thing wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.

We made our way outside and walked home to the Beaumont gate. Rikker didn’t live in Beaumont, but Graham had a roomy senior single, and it was probably their favorite hook-up spot.

“Goodnight, guys!” I kissed them both on the cheek. I didn’t need to fake any cheer, either. Because there was someone waiting for me in my room. Someone I was very happy to see, especially if he’d removed any of his clothing since the last time I’d seen him.

“Night, sweetie,” Rikker said, giving me a squeeze. “Good to have you back.”

I don’t do mushy, so I slapped him on the ass and gave them both one more wave. Then I let myself into my own entryway, trotting up the steps as fast as I could. At the top, I opened my door to replace a shirtless Rafe asleep face-down on my bed, his face buried in the crook of his muscular arm. My bathroom door was standing open. So I tiptoed through to peer at Lianne, who was asleep on her own bed in the exact same position.

In her case, though, an empty plastic wastebasket stood beside her bed. Perhaps Lianne and Rafe had a bit of a rough trip home.

Bummer.

I went back through the bathroom, shutting my door with a soft click. For a moment, I just stood there, admiring Rafe. His face was peaceful, and his back muscles rose and fell as he slept. I just had to touch him. I crawled onto the bed beside him and kissed the back of his neck.

Nothing happened.

“Honey, I’m home,” I whispered. “I always wanted to say that.”

“You did?” he rasped.

“Well, not always. Only now.”

He smiled without opening his eyes.

“There’s a subtext, you know,” I said, peeling off my jacket. “‘Honey, I’m home’ really means, ‘take off your clothes and fuck me.’”

“I never knew that.” Rafe rolled over and stretched his arms above his head.

His position gave me access to his fly, which I unzipped.

“Our project is ready,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

“What project?” I leaned over him and began to kiss the skin just above the waistband of his briefs.

Rafe propped himself up on his elbows and looked down his body at me. “Did you have fun tonight?”

I tugged on his waistband. “I’m trying to right now.”

With a chuckle, Rafe put a warm hand on my hair. “I like what you’re doing, belleza. Just give me a minute to wake up.” He lifted his hips, allowing me to slide his jeans and briefs off.

“Did Lianne puke?” I asked, removing his socks.

“Only twice.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged, stretching out on the bed, naked now. “No big deal. I didn’t have to do anything except hold her hair.”

“Aw. You did that for her? I think you deserve a blow job.”

“From you though, right?” He winked up at me.

I slapped his thigh. “Who else? And you don’t even have to be quiet, because she’s passed out.”

Rafe must have liked that idea, because his dick began to swell. I slipped my hand around him, and he groaned. “Take off your clothes,” he ordered.

“Bossy much?” I grasped the hem of my T-shirt and pulled.

“I’m bossy for a reason.” He helped me shuck off my shirt.

“Why’s that?”

He caught my face in both his hands, and those espresso-colored eyes bored into mine. “Because whenever I tell you to take off your clothes, you get the best look on your face.”

“I do?” The proximity of my boyfriend’s naked body made it hard for me to listen, though.

“Yeah,” he whispered, his gaze dropping appreciatively to my cleavage. “Your face says, ‘Do me Rafe. And be quick about it.’”

I closed my eyes and groaned. “That sounds like something my face would say.”

“Yeah?” He pulled me down onto the bed and popped the button on my jeans.

“It does.” I helped him shuck them off. Then, wearing nothing but my favorite black bra, I stretched out on my back. “Are you awake yet?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Good. Because I want you to do me. And be quick about it.”

Chuckling, he rolled on top of me and kissed me.