victorious yodel of: “ Ouiiii! ”
I was definitely losing this game. Ah, well. I lifted my chin to get a better look at Rafe. And when his big dark eyes looked down at me, I fought off a shiver. Damn him. Why did he have to be so sexy? It was hard to pull off the indifferent vibe that I needed to show him. “What’s up?” I checked my watch, as if I had someplace to be. Subtle, right? I felt like slapping myself.
If I was honest, my encounter with Rafe had unsettled me, and I couldn’t figure out why. If there was anyone who understood the fickle nature of a hook-up, it was me. The fact that he’d been so awkward afterward was a letdown, though. Apparently Rafe was a shamer. Shamers felt guilty after having sex, sometimes even apologizing for it, the same way they’d apologize for bumping into you with a dining hall tray. Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I’ll try not to be so clumsy next time .
It didn’t matter that they were sincere, because shame flowed in both directions. If a shamer had impulsive sex, which he considered a misdeed, then by definition he thought I’d done something wrong, too.
And I was sick of people judging me. Really, really sick of it.
“Bella,” Rafe began. “I wanted to invite you out for lunch next week.”
That wasn’t what I’d expected him to say. He wanted to take me out for lunch? Why?
I didn’t get to answer, though, because Pepe began bellowing from the other room. “Belluh! I win the lingerie, cherie! Take everything off!”
Aw, hell . “Pepe, just give me…”
Then he was standing behind me all of a sudden, his giant body pressing against my back. “Show me the boobies! Zee score is four-one.”
Dear lord, just shoot me already . I gave Pepe a backward shove. “Just a second, okay?” But it was really too late for Rafe not to get the wrong impression.
When I risked a look at Rafe’s face, I saw it turning quite a dark shade of red. “We’ll talk another time,” he stuttered.
“Rafe, wait. It’s just a…” I stopped myself before explaining. Even if Pepe wasn’t kidding, I didn’t have to apologize for myself.
But Rafe was backing away from me, a pained expression on his face. He held up two hands. “I’m sorry.”
“God, why?”
“For… I feel like the world’s biggest jackass.”
“Because of… two weeks ago?”
He made a guilty face.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “The fifties are over, okay? It was just sex , Rafe. And you’re a bigger jackass for not getting past it than for doing it in the first place.”
He swallowed. “Well. Whichever kind of jackass I am, I’m sorry.”
He still didn’t understand. “Nobody took advantage of me, Rafe. I’m not fragile like that.”
“Okay.”
“You can’t rape the willing,” I whispered.
At the word “rape” Rafe’s eyes bugged out.
“It’s just an expression,” I qualified.
“BELLA!” Pepe howled from inside my room. “I am going to have the panties! Montreal has power play!”
I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.
Rafe’s expression shuttered. “I’ll see you in class,” he mumbled. As Rafe backed away, I could practically hear him making a list of my sins in his head.
“Good night,” I called after him anyway.
He raised a hand in a half-hearted wave before disappearing into the crowd.
Lovely . He couldn’t even look me in the eye.
I turned around and marched into the TV room.
“Two minutes left,” Pepe announced. “Zee power play did not go as planned.”
I didn’t care about the game anymore. The disappointment on Rafe’s face was seared on my brain. He’d looked horrified when he thought that Pepe and I were talking about actually stripping down. Although he’d done the same thing in my room not so long ago.
Where’s the sense in that? Even though I hadn’t done anything wrong, it still smarted to know Rafe was disappointed in me.
That was the trouble with shamers. They got under your skin.
The Canadiens won, of
I was definitely losing this game. Ah, well. I lifted my chin to get a better look at Rafe. And when his big dark eyes looked down at me, I fought off a shiver. Damn him. Why did he have to be so sexy? It was hard to pull off the indifferent vibe that I needed to show him. “What’s up?” I checked my watch, as if I had someplace to be. Subtle, right? I felt like slapping myself.
If I was honest, my encounter with Rafe had unsettled me, and I couldn’t figure out why. If there was anyone who understood the fickle nature of a hook-up, it was me. The fact that he’d been so awkward afterward was a letdown, though. Apparently Rafe was a shamer. Shamers felt guilty after having sex, sometimes even apologizing for it, the same way they’d apologize for bumping into you with a dining hall tray. Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I’ll try not to be so clumsy next time .
It didn’t matter that they were sincere, because shame flowed in both directions. If a shamer had impulsive sex, which he considered a misdeed, then by definition he thought I’d done something wrong, too.
And I was sick of people judging me. Really, really sick of it.
“Bella,” Rafe began. “I wanted to invite you out for lunch next week.”
That wasn’t what I’d expected him to say. He wanted to take me out for lunch? Why?
I didn’t get to answer, though, because Pepe began bellowing from the other room. “Belluh! I win the lingerie, cherie! Take everything off!”
Aw, hell . “Pepe, just give me…”
Then he was standing behind me all of a sudden, his giant body pressing against my back. “Show me the boobies! Zee score is four-one.”
Dear lord, just shoot me already . I gave Pepe a backward shove. “Just a second, okay?” But it was really too late for Rafe not to get the wrong impression.
When I risked a look at Rafe’s face, I saw it turning quite a dark shade of red. “We’ll talk another time,” he stuttered.
“Rafe, wait. It’s just a…” I stopped myself before explaining. Even if Pepe wasn’t kidding, I didn’t have to apologize for myself.
But Rafe was backing away from me, a pained expression on his face. He held up two hands. “I’m sorry.”
“God, why?”
“For… I feel like the world’s biggest jackass.”
“Because of… two weeks ago?”
He made a guilty face.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “The fifties are over, okay? It was just sex , Rafe. And you’re a bigger jackass for not getting past it than for doing it in the first place.”
He swallowed. “Well. Whichever kind of jackass I am, I’m sorry.”
He still didn’t understand. “Nobody took advantage of me, Rafe. I’m not fragile like that.”
“Okay.”
“You can’t rape the willing,” I whispered.
At the word “rape” Rafe’s eyes bugged out.
“It’s just an expression,” I qualified.
“BELLA!” Pepe howled from inside my room. “I am going to have the panties! Montreal has power play!”
I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.
Rafe’s expression shuttered. “I’ll see you in class,” he mumbled. As Rafe backed away, I could practically hear him making a list of my sins in his head.
“Good night,” I called after him anyway.
He raised a hand in a half-hearted wave before disappearing into the crowd.
Lovely . He couldn’t even look me in the eye.
I turned around and marched into the TV room.
“Two minutes left,” Pepe announced. “Zee power play did not go as planned.”
I didn’t care about the game anymore. The disappointment on Rafe’s face was seared on my brain. He’d looked horrified when he thought that Pepe and I were talking about actually stripping down. Although he’d done the same thing in my room not so long ago.
Where’s the sense in that? Even though I hadn’t done anything wrong, it still smarted to know Rafe was disappointed in me.
That was the trouble with shamers. They got under your skin.
The Canadiens won, of
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