Page 49 of Dirty Filthy Boy
Oh, my God. "Is that Oliver?"
She groans. "Yes."
"You and him?"
"Yes. Look, I gotta go. We're leaving here soon. I'd like to come by your apartment and pick up my things."
The fairyland I've been living in disappears, and reality sets in. "You can't. My place was broken into last night. I'm staying with Ty. I brought your bag. Can you come by his house instead?"
"Your place got broken into? What happened?"
"Last night, Ty accompanied me to my apartment. When we got there, we found my door busted, the place tossed. They took my laptop, a few other things." My stomach heaves. Darn it. I shouldn't have eaten that sub.
"Did you call the police?"
"Yes. They came. Wrote down the details, took fingerprints. They didn't hold out much hope they'd find whoever did it, much less what was stolen."
"So Ty took you back to his house."
"Yes, but—" A quick glance at Ty tells me he's focused on the game, so I whisper into the phone, "I can't stay here."
"You can move in with me, MacKenna. As long as you need."
A big wave of relief washes over me. "Thanks, Mar. I was hoping you'd offer."
"We probably won't make it there 'til this afternoon. We're moving kind of slow this morning."
"Err. It is afternoon, Mar."
"Ouch," she yells.
"What happened?"
"Oliver snapped my butt with a towel. Why did you that?" The latter sounds fainter, like she's turned away from the phone.
His voice comes over the phone, clear as a bell. "So I could kiss it and make it better."
Oh, geez. An amorous Oliver and Mar, the queen of I'll see you when I see you. That can't end well.
"Gotta go." Her voice sounds crazy strained and . . . urgent.
"Okay." I hang up. Wow. Oliver and Mar. Is she interested in him? After one night? Yeah, MacKenna, and how long did it take you to fall into Ty's bed. A whole two days, that's how long. And you're the no-sex queen.
Darn. I never gave her Ty's address. I shrug. Maybe she'll call back, when she's not so . . . busy. And even if she doesn't, Oliver probably has it, or knows someone that can get it for him. I shrug. They'll figure it out.
I return to the living room and take my spot next to Ty. Even though his gaze is pinned on the game, his hunched-over shoulders still brim with tension.
"So, is your friend okay?" He mumbles after taking a sip from his beer.
"Yeah, she's with Oliver, if you can believe it."
The tension leaches from his body, as he turns to me with a smile. "Really?"
"Yeah, really." I return his smile.
"And you're not upset?"
"No. Why should I?"
