“They seriously stole your mom’s Tupperware?” Max repeated.
Lauren confirmed, “Complete with turkey, stuffing, green beans and pie. We were gonna eat those leftovers for a week.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s hilarious,” Angus said.
“Except for the broken window.” I wasn’t looking forward to the repair bill, but as cold as we’d been for the last four hours of the trip, the glass had to be fixed soon.
Max scowled. “They stole our pie? Now I’m mad. And pie-less. But mostly mad.”
“You assume I planned to share it,” I said, smirking.
“Oh, you might want to go downstairs and tell the crazy guy in 1B that you’re alive.” Angus hauled me out of my chair and nudged me toward the door. “He made it pretty clear that he’ll pull my head off if he doesn’t see you at some point today.”
Oh, shit. Ty.
I would’ve called him on Lauren’s cell, but I didn’t remember his number by heart. Checking the time, I saw it was close to seven and I couldn’t recall if he had night classes. Still, even if he wasn’t home yet, I’d leave a message on his door. So I grabbed a pen and Post-it, just in case, and said, “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Sure you will,” Lauren said as Angus murmured, “See you in the morning.”
Stifling a sigh, I jogged down the stairs to his apartment and knocked. There were no lights visible under his door, so I figured he must be gone. Quickly I wrote, Had trouble on the way home. Bad weather, phone stolen. I’m okay. No texting until I replace it. After sticking it to the door, where he couldn’t miss it, I went back upstairs.
Angus made us a sympathy dinner, and we had just finished eating when someone knocked on the door, pounded, really. I stood up.
“It’s probably Mr. Hot Ginger,” Lauren said.
Fixing an evil stare on her, I crossed to answer, and she was right. Ty stood outside with Sam dozing on his shoulder. Poor kid. He probably fell asleep in the car on the way home. The impulse to hug them both nearly overwhelmed me. Ty’s shoulders dropped as a sigh seeped out of him, such tangible relief that it shimmered like gold in his brown eyes.
Waving at my roomies, he whispered, “Come down for a few?”
This definitely wasn’t protocol, but I nodded. Without bothering to put on shoes, I followed him to his place, and he let us in, juggling keys, backpacks and Sam in a practiced move. He scanned the note as I plucked it off the door and gave me a tired half smile. Since Sam was already in jammies, Ty carried him down the hall and put him in bed. I tensed, waiting for the kid to wake up, but he only curled into his covers and reached for Mr. O’Beary when Ty set the toy beside him.
Once we were back in the living room, he crushed me to him in a bruising hug, and I was astonished to discover that he was shaking. He mumbled into my hair, “You have no idea how worried I’ve been. First the bad weather, and this morning, you replied to my last text with suck me loser. I had no idea where you were and all your roommates could tell me was that you were supposed to be home last night.”
Quietly, muffled by his shoulder, I ran through the carnival of crapulence that had been my lot since we left Nebraska. Ty held me and stroked my back, my hair, like he couldn’t stand to let go of me. I curled against him, reveling in his tenderness. Finally, I concluded, “And it was freezing on the way home, so much that my hands hurt by the time we got here.”
“I saw the broken window on your car when I came in and went straight to your place to make sure you were okay.”
“Fine. Just tired, sore and completely pissed off.”
“Sit down.”
“But Sam...?”
“My mom had him bundled up, throwing snowballs for an hour tonight. Then he had hot soup and a bath. I’ll be amazed if he’s awake before morning, but...I’m willing to risk it.”
This invite was such a huge step; I wondered if he even realized.
“If you’re sure.” I didn’t need further encouragement to curl up on the cozy red couch.
He sat behind me and pressed his thumbs to the base of my neck, rubbing in firm circles. “How’s that?”
“Incredible.” It was impossible for me to think, let alone speak, while he massaged my neck and shoulders. When he got to my head, I was a warm, sleepy noodle in his arms.
“Why didn’t you call me?” Reasonable question. “Lauren had her phone, right?”
Embarrassed, I admitted, “Normally, I use the names in my contact list. I don’t remember too many numbers.”
“Work and your parents?” he guessed.
“Pretty much. I’m not even sure I know Lauren’s number, and we’ve been friends since second grade. I’m sorry I scared you.”
A few moments passed in silence. “You didn’t mean to. But I’d rather not live through a day like this one again.”
His tone alarmed me enough to shift so I could look at his face. “Ty?”
Tense again, I waited for him to say that we were getting in too deep. Instead, he whispered, “I’m so glad you’re home. Sam was crying when I picked him up from school.”
“What happened?” There was one biter, a hair puller and two toy stealers in his group. Maybe he had a problem with one of them?
“Nothing, he just missed you. He’s used to you being in his classroom.”
“I missed you guys, too. I love my parents, but there’s a reason I only see them once a year. Next time I’ll go during the summer.”
“Flying’s faster,” he pointed out.
“More expensive, too.” Though after weighing the cost of fuel, new window and phone, maybe I should’ve flown. “And it’s an hour to fly out of Ann Arbor from here, there are no nonstops, and my parents have to drive two hours to pick me up.”
“How small is this town?”
“Less than five thousand people. It was a big deal when they put in a stop sign at the Stop and Go.”
“Damn. And I thought Mount Albion was bad.”
“It’s really not.” The core population held steady just under ten thousand and the university swelled it by another 6K during the school year. It also made it kind of a challenge to find a decent part-time job, which was why we’d thrown a party for Lauren when she finally switched from food court to fine arts.
“You must be dead tired,” he whispered, kissing the back of my neck.