Page 78 of Dirty Filthy Boy
Chapter 23
MacKenna
THANKSGIVING DAY, Marigold and I spend the morning at the food kitchen, peeling about a billion potatoes, and boiling a zillion ears of corn. Once the afternoon shift takes over, we head for my apartment, where we cook our humble feast. Turkey breast, mashed potatoes, and corn with pumpkin pie for dessert.
The Chicago Outlaws are playing an away Thanksgiving Day game, so, thankfully, I don't have to face the agony of holding the celebration separate from Ty. He calls once a week, even though I've asked With dinner cooked and eaten, Mar and I park ourselves on the sumptuous couch in front of the wide screen HD television to enjoy our slices of pumpkin pie with home made whipped cream, and coffee made from a top notch espresso machine while Rosco settles himself in front of us on the rug, hoping a crumb or two will fall his way.
"Ummm, great pie, MacKenna."
"Thanks. It's my mother's recipe."
She wipes her mouth with a napkin and looks around the living room. "Such a beautiful condo. You're going to miss this when the owner returns."
"I'll find something else."
"Another lousy apartment in another crappy part of town?"
"Why are you doing this?"
"You could be living in a much better place."
Ever since the break in, she'd been gently bringing up the subject of my living situation. Since my stay here is only temporary, I'll have to find a new place to live come May. Seeing how that's months away, I haven't given it much thought. But it does seem to preying on Mar's mind. And I know where she's headed. "With Ty Mathews, you mean?"
"Yes. You have this gorgeous man who's crazy about you. He calls you every week, but you barely talk to him. He cares for you, but you push him away. Why are you doing this? You can't tell me you're not attracted to him. The chemistry between you is undeniable. The day he helped you move, you couldn't keep your eyes from him."
I wipe my mouth with the napkin, sip some coffee, to give me time to think. True, I want him with every ounce of my being. But that's not enough to form a lasting relationship, not the kind that that I want. "It's just lust, nothing serious."
"It may not be love, but maybe it can lead up to it. If you only give it a chance."
"What good would it do, Mar? He's a playah. You said so yourself."
She hitches up a brow. "He was. But not anymore."
"And how do you know this?"
"I've been spending time at the Outlaws compound on weekends. Setting up my office, getting to know the players, that kind of thing. Word has it that Ty has totally changed."
"Changed how?"
"He doesn't party any more. He comes to practice. Does what he has to do, and, at the end of the day, he goes home. Alone."
"Well, he's supposed to be taking it easy, so he can't very well party."
"Oh, come on, MacKenna. The man carried a bunch of boxes out of your place. How much was he taking it easy then?"
"There weren't that many boxes," I say in my defense.
"Apparently, the team physician told him he shouldn't exert himself in any way, shape or form which means he wasn't supposed to be lifting a thing."
"How do you know that?"
She shrugs as she forks another piece of pie. "I talked to one of the physical therapists. That shoulder was supposed to be immobile. And yet he risked harm to his arm and his career to move your things."
"But he's okay, isn't he? I mean he's playing again. They wouldn't have approved his return to the game unless he'd healed."
"Uh huh."
I rest the pie fork on the edge of the plate. "So what would you like me to do?"
