Page 62 of Loving Ladybug: Part One
“I was going to meet some friends at Marabou Mike’s later. They’re all collegiate hockey players. Want to come?” I offered. “I haven’t been to Tito’s since I got fired.”
My old boss had left me a couple of messages asking me to fill in out of desperation. I hadn’t answered. He couldn’t fire me for not coming on the day I’d specifically taken off, then turn around and ask me to help out. I felt bad for my co-workers, though.
“That sounds fun,” Clark said.
“Need help?” Dimitri offered.
“We’ll let you know if we do,” Clark told him. “Come on, let’s get everything gathered. and I’ll get us a car. I took the subway here, not my bike.”
I took him into the storeroom where I’d been sleeping. “Thanks for covering for me.”
“I appreciate you trusting me.” He looked around. “Oh, Ladybug. This can’t be comfortable.”
Something about his sad puppy look cut deeper than any alpha growl ever could. I hated disappointing him like that and I crumpled inside.
“It’s not. So many times when I texted you late at night, I was trying to bring myself to ask if I could stay with you. But it’s such a big ask.” I hiccupped as I gathered my things.
Clark stacked cushions and folded blankets. “You’ll be much more comfortable with me. Tell me what’s going on? Did the place with your friends not work out?”
The entire story tumbled out, like Austin’s bank reversing the charges and how I’d tried and failed to figure out a way to fix it, to my tireless calculations and my grand plan to live here until graduation. It was such a relief to tell someone. It had been weighing so heavily on my soul.
“I can’t believe that knothead did that,” he told me, his scent turning spicy with anger. “You literally supported him for years and the one year he was supposed to support you, he broke his word.”
“He sure knew how to make it hurt.” I sniffed, as I gave the closet a once over, moving a few things, so it was like I never lived here, other than my scent. I’d grab some de-scenter from the cleaning closet and give it a spray. Okay, I should wash the blankets too. But I’d do that later.
“Pity you don’t have your deal in writing,” he added.
“Oh, I do. I’m an accounting major. I document the shit out of everything. Even if we could find him, I’m not sure I want to go after him. I’m done with all that.” I sighed.
“We’ll get this figured out. I want you to be safe. I want you to not be stressed out, so you can focus on classes and hockey,” he told me. “This is your year, and it’s going to be great.”
“I appreciate your confidence in me.” Having a place to live would be a tremendous relief.
We got the rest of my stuff and lugged it out to the street and into a waiting car.
“I have to say, the idea of living in the closet is brilliant. Free utilities and laundry, good security, and access to the kitchen,” he told me as the car drove away from the training center.
“It was. Pity I was foiled.” Worry that I’d get in trouble nagged at me, but I’d like to think I could trust Constantine.
“Question. Austin was supposed to pay your tuition this year. How did you do it last year? Life-changing tip? Big win at the casino? Sold a kidney? An extra scholarship?” Clark asked.
“When I was at community college, I had a few other scholarships, the kind that aren’t tied to your school. Those all had dried up by the time I transferred to NYIT.” There’d been some rough semesters.
I winced. “I have some aid from NYIT, but it doesn’t cover everything. So, I sold my signed Maria Barilla rookie card. I’ve sold most of my collection over the years. That one hurt the most, because the card meant so much to me. It was also worth a lot.”
She’d given it to me herself.
“Gweny.” His hand went to his heart. “I’m so sorry. I know how much you admire her. Do you want me to get you one?”
“No, you goofball.” I play-shoved him. “I want you to keep my ass and take me to Swoop and let me race down the aisles.”
That was going to be fun. Swoop was one of those discount stores where you could get pretty much everything you needed in oneswoop.
“Okay.” He nodded.
We arrived at his building and went up to his floor.
Clark’s place was immaculate and smelled a little stale. The living room was the focal point with a giant alpha-sized couch, a video game chair, a coffee table, and a big TV. The dining room table was small and glass. It was a good-sized two-bedroom apartment.
