Page 52 of Dirty Filthy Boy
Chapter 16
MacKenna
AS THE GAME ENDS, Marigold and Oliver finally make it to Ty's house, dressed in the same clothes they wore to the charity event. I don't comment on it. Aside from the fact, it's none of my business, I don't have room to talk. Last night I'd accepted Ty's offer with the full intention of staying only for one night. But one rustle of the trees outside my bedroom window had me crawling into his bed. Not only that, I'd practically thrown myself at him. Hell, not practically. I had first chance I got. And this afternoon, I'd willingly enjoyed round three.
Offering the excuse we need to get her bag, I lead Mar to the guest bedroom. "Here it is." I point to the suitcase with the bright flower power tag, a reminder of her commune upbringing. "They didn't touch it. Whoever broke into my apartment seemed content to damage only my property. I didn't want to leave it behind in case whoever broke in came back."
After a glance at her suitcase, she sweeps her hand down my arm. "How are you holding up?"
I've held tough until now, but with her comforting gesture, I break down. Tears spill down my face as she puts her arms around me. She's so short, I have to bend to rest my head on her shoulder.
"Oh, Mar. They trashed the place. My clothes, my furniture, my stuff. It's like they wanted to destroy everything rather than steal them."
"Does the police have any leads?"
"No. And they didn't hold out any hope, either. Break ins like mine happen all over Chicago. My guess is hoodlums who enjoy vandalizing just for kicks. Only thing of value they stole was my laptop."
"Your newspaper will replace it, won't they?"
"Yes, and all my research and articles are stored in the cloud, so I haven't lost anything, but still I feel so . . ."
"Violated."
The same word Ty used. And she's right. It feels like somebody defiled my soul, the very essence of me. My information is protected, encrypted by a software program, but who's to say whoever stole my laptop can't break the code and read my most intimate thoughts. My hopes and dreams for the future, things I wrote about Ty and our first night together. The thought sickens me. "Yes."
"So what are you going to do?"
"Ty asked me to stay with him, but I don't think that's a good idea. Aside from the fact it would complicate things at the newspaper, I don't want to get too attached to him. Nothing good can come from it." Wish I could get my body to understand, but every time Ty comes near me, I fall apart in his arms.
Her eyes signal nothing but kindness. "In all the time we were in college, you never dated. Not once. And now you go and fall for the football league's most notorious player."
"I didn't fall for him."
Her lips twist into a wry grin. "If you say so."
Yeah, I'm lying. To her. To myself. But I just can't acknowledge the depth of my attraction to Ty. Not when I know nothing but heartache awaits me at the end. "Mar, please don't. I'm having a hard enough time keeping it together as it is."
"Fine. Okay. No sense getting attached to him. He's not the sticking kind."
She's right about that. "No, he's not."
"And you're the kind who needs a man to stick around." She brushes her hand down my hair, squeezes my shoulder. "So, you want to stay with me?"
I gaze at her out of what I know must be hopeful eyes. "Do you mind, Mar? I hate to impose."
"Not a problem, kiddo. We can stop by your place and pick up whatever you need."
"There won't be much. The thief destroyed most of my things. But I do thank you." After I give her a quick hug, I stand back and study her. She has a certain glow that wasn't there before. "Don't mention anything to Ty about me moving in with you."
"You're not coming home with me tonight?"
"No. Not tonight. I'll have to pick the right time to tell him." I'm stalling, I know. I should just rip off the scab. Thing is I can't. After his declaration this afternoon, I need to find the right words.
She squeezes my arm again. "Whenever you're ready then."
"Thanks, Mar" I tilt my head to the side, considering the best way to ask something I'm curious about. "There's something I need to ask. It's none of my business. And if you tell me to butt out, I will."
"Go ahead. Spit it out."
