“But hey, it’s your game, J-Rod. I didn’t make the rules.”
Angus turned his head, offering his mouth, but I pecked beside it, instead. Smiling, he slung an arm around my shoulders and squeezed me briefly then let go. The guys from two turns back were getting hot and heavy, probably more than even Josh could’ve predicted. I got up and wandered out before I ended up watching somebody get lucky in my room before I did.
Outside, the rest of the apartment was just wall-to-wall people. I didn’t realize I’d made the decision to bail until I grabbed my purse and keys. No plan, I just couldn’t stand the noise for another second. I much preferred attending parties to hosting them. In that scenario, if I got sick of the bullshit, I could always come home. Navigating through the crush, I got out the front door and down the steps before I heard someone come after me.
Crap. I thought that was a clean getaway.
“Where’re you going?” Lauren asked.
“Out. But don’t let me ruin your night.”
“You sure you’re okay?” She surveyed me with a concerned look.
“Positive. Look out for the sex show Josh is running in our bedroom, by the way.” As expected, that drove her back inside without another word.
The music had my head aching. Really, I just wanted to find a quiet place and...what? I had no idea. Before I could make up my mind where to go, Ty’s door opened, and he stepped into the hall. After last night when I all but offered myself naked on a platter, I half suspected he’d shut it again when he spotted me, but instead he gave me a half smile, ducking his head with a bashful air. Tentatively, I smiled back.
“You want to come in? When Sam has his SleepPhones on, he rarely wakes, unless I forget to set the music to loop. Tonight I remembered.”
This was so momentous, and I couldn’t stop smiling. This had to be my karmic reward for not making out with a random stoned guy. “That would be great. I was about to flee.”
Ty gestured at his place. “You can hide out with me until things settle down.”
“Thanks.” I brushed by. From the clean smell of him and his damp hair, I guessed he’d just gotten out of the shower.
Inside, his apartment looked much nicer than ours, decorated with a quirky charm that immediately made me feel at home. The basic floor plan was the same with a galley-style kitchen visible on entry, the front door opening into a combination living and dining room, where there was also a breakfast bar. He had three rustic, leather-topped stools set up plus a small wooden bistro table. The space had very little glass, probably because of Sam, and I loved the padded red L-shaped sectional. A geometric-patterned area rug covered the worn beige carpet, and he had an antique steamer trunk in the middle instead of a coffee table, very cool; it was wood, covered in leather and bound in bronze. The walls were adorned with an interesting combination of pen-and-ink cityscapes and some really colorful abstract art. On closer examination, I was pretty sure Ty had framed both his own work and Sam’s. Overall it was impressively tidy, and I said so.
“The auntie Sam mentioned is my mom’s older sister, and she’s always cleaning when she’s here,” he said sheepishly. “But she needs knee surgery, and she won’t be up to chasing after him for a long while, if ever.”
“So that’s why you asked about day care.”
“Yeah. Do you want something to drink?” He spoke softly, though he’d said Sam wasn’t likely to wake up.
And if he did, it wasn’t a huge deal, right? Surely Ty had friends over occasionally.
“Tea?” I suggested.
“I don’t have orange Ceylon spice, but I can offer chai or honey lemon.”
“Honey lemon sounds good. My nerves could use some soothing. If we had stairs, they’d definitely be diving down them.”
“Let’s hope they don’t take the party into the hall and follow in your footsteps.” The teasing glance as he put two mugs of water in the microwave sent heat straight to my cheeks.
“Yeah, yeah, I fought the steps and the steps won.”
“Make yourself at home. I’ll be right there.”
“Sure.” After I sat down, I couldn’t resist the cream chenille throw draped over the back of the couch. I snuggled up in it, listening to the music booming from my apartment and the constant thumping overhead. “Sounds like they’re coming through the ceiling, huh?”
“It’s about what I expected when I saw college students were moving in.”
“Spoken as if you aren’t one,” I said, slightly defensive.
Ty leveled a long look at me as the microwave beeped. “Are you really planning to argue that my circumstances are the same as yours?”
“I guess not.” I felt young and stupid now, the first time he’d made me feel that way.
The silence thickened until I almost got up to leave. Then he said, “Sorry. I’m a little...sensitive. People are always telling me to get out, live while I’m young. Like it’s that easy.”
I took the mug he handed me and played sink the tea bag with the spoon for a few seconds. “It’s okay. How about a deal? I won’t bother you about having more fun, if you don’t bug me to try out for women’s basketball.”
“I’m enjoying myself now,” he said. “And pestering people really isn’t my thing.”
He sank down on the other end of the couch. It was too noisy for us to watch anything, and we didn’t need more music. That left talking, and I was totally okay with that.
“Me, too. So you said something about SleepPhones before. Is that different from normal headphones?”
“Yeah, it’s a headband with speakers in it. Much more comfortable to sleep in.”
“That sounds cool, actually. Maybe I need that. What music does Sam fall asleep listening to?” I asked.
“You’ll laugh.”
“Maybe. Tell me, anyway.”
“He might be the world’s smallest One Direction fan.”
It took all of my self-control, but I didn’t let out a peep, though my eyes watered. “You know that’s insanely cute, right?”
“I think so.”
“What about you? Your favorite bands?” I congratulated myself on acting normal, like I hadn’t basically told Ty last night that he was everything I wanted for Christmas. The fact that he hadn’t made use of that opening told me everything I needed to know about his intentions.
Friends it is.
“Right now I’m into Grouplove, Tove Lo, Passenger, The National and Speedy Ortiz.”
“Would you think I’m superlame if I admit I’ve only heard of one of those?”
“Passenger,”
