Page 47 of Nowhere to Hide
She holds it through the stacks. Almost. Both hands are clamped over her mouth, her eyes are streaming, and every few seconds a sound escapes that’s halfway between a hiccup and a wheeze. I steer her by the elbow toward the side stairwell.
“Oh my God,” she gasps, doubled over the railing.
“Keep moving.”
Two flights down, we head outside, and the shock of cold air hits my face. But not as much as the moment, because of the sheer stupid absurdity of getting kicked out of a library for making out.
She’s bent at the waist on the path, hands on her knees, the cold catching her breath in white clouds, hair loose around her face, laughing so hard she can barely get air. I lean against the building, head back, laughing at the sky until my eyes water.
“Some Halden Girl,” I say.
“Stop, you’re making it worse,” she wheezes, “I will die?—”
“Sloane,” I say.
She straightens, pushing hair out of her face. “We’re banned. We’re absolutely banned.”
“We are not banned from Bellamy.”
“You don’t know that. He’s filing paperwork. He’s calling the dean.”
“Sloane.”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.” I smile. “I’ve wanted to do that since the courtyard.”
She walks back over to me, then takes my face in both her cold hands and kisses me hard. It’s furious and certain, like she’s done holding herself back, and then she steps back without warning, her hands sliding from my face.
“Good night, Rowan,” she says.
“Good night, Sloane.”
She walks backward toward Sterling, her boots scuffing the wet path, her eyes on me until the distance pulls her from sight. And even then, I stand under the lamp for a long time, just soaking it in.
My phone buzzes against my hip.
For once, I don’t check it.
twelve
SLOANE
As I lie in bed,I can’t stop thinking about his mouth.
It’s almost midnight, Ivy is asleep, and my eyes are open. Because every time I close them, I’m back in Bellamy with his hand on the side of my face, kissing me like he’d been thinking about it as long as I had.
With a sigh, I roll over and stare at the wall.
The Halden Girl wouldnotdo what I’m thinking about doing, but she also wouldn’t have told Rowan about the incident. And it’s his reaction that tips me over the line, because he clearly cared when he’d asked me what I needed.
Nobody has ever done that for me before.
I pick up my phone. Ivy shifts in her sleep across the room, mumbling something that sounds likeno more tequila, and I almost laugh but I’m too wound up. I hold the phone, trying to talk myself out of what might be a bad idea and feels like such a good one.
Then I text him:
Are you up?
