“You keep telling me that, but I don’t get it. They can’t all be assholes for no reason.”
“Oh, there’s a reason,” he confides. “Well, at least there are rumors. Those boys are an endless source of fascination on this campus.”
“Do tell,” I encourage him. And maybe it’s awful, but I’m nosy. Besides, any info that will help me put up with Ty is info I need.
“Where should I begin?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing as though it’s a really hard decision.
Mel comes in with a plate of nachos and sets them on the coffee table. “Don’t get him started on Knox. We’ll be here for hours,” Mel tells me.
“I heard that,” Ian tells her, then shoves a loaded nacho into his mouth, making a terrible mess. “And he’s an entitled asshole.”
“Accurate,” Mel agrees. “But he’s nice to look at. And I heard his family life is shit.”
“Yea,” Ian agrees. “I heard that, too. His parents’ divorce was hella nasty and they don’t talk. Like, at all. That would be bad enough, but he’s got a little brother. Like, first or second grade little. Anyway, Knox apparently has a hell of a time keeping the peace and seeing his brother. But still. Doesn’t excuse him for being a dick.”
“True, but I don’t know. I kinda feel bad for the guy.” Mel dips a chip in salsa and takes a bite.
“I don’t. Look at Whit. He’s lived through some shit and he still manages to be a nice guy.”
“What kind of shit?” I ask. Normally, I’m pretty protective of people’s personal lives. I know what it’s like to be the one they’re all whispering about. But I can’t help it--I’m intrigued by Ty--the way he’s sweet and kind one minute and then snappish and rude the next. And I’m fascinated by his friends, too. I just want to know what makes them all tick.
“It’s pretty sad, actually,” Mel tells me, reaching for the throw blanket on the back of the couch. “There was a boating accident. He was little, like a toddler. Anyway, I guess he was up on the boat, but he wasn’t wearing a life jacket for whatever reason. He fell off the boat and his dad jumped in to save him. The good news was that Whit was fine, but his dad ended up drowning. I don't know all the details, but that’s pretty awful stuff.”
“Wow. That’s terrible,” I say, my heart breaking. Survivor’s guilt is a real thing and I can’t imagine what Whit deals with on a daily basis.
“Yea, that’s definitely the most depressing story,” Ian agrees.
“What’s the deal with Booker? He seems sweet. And not at all hard to look at.”
At this, Ian laughs and fans himself. “Sweet hell, that man is fine. Too bad his body, heart, and soul belong to Jesus.”
“Really?” I ask.
“Apparently.” Ian sighs. “His whole family is super religious. Like, televangelist, donate-your-retirement-funds-here type of church. Anyway, rumor has it that after he graduates, Booker will go straight to the seminary to become a deacon or something? His dad wouldn’t let him enter the NHL draft, which is crazy, because he’s that freaking good, apparently. Of course, by the time he makes it to the seminary, he’ll be married to the perfect, chaste woman, they won’t have dared touch each other--or anyone else before their wedding night, and they’ll settle down to raise dogs and children.”
“That sounds like a TLC show in the making.”
“Knowing his family, it might be,” says Mel.
“And what about Ty?” I ask, my curiosity getting the best of me. “What’s his deal?”
“No one really has any dirt on him,” Ian admits. “But I think he grew up in Florida. Anyway, the story’s always the same, right? Messed-up family and more money than they know what to do with.”
Ian and Mel keep the conversation going, content to swap stories about who’s doing what on campus. But it makes me wonder. Yes, on the surface, Ty is a moody guy. But maybe there’s more to it. He’s a protector, fiercely watching over the guys he considers to be his family. And though he drives me crazy most days, I can respect that.
Chapter 6
Phoebe
The words Ty’s saying probably make sense, but my brain is foggy today. I’ve barely been getting any sleep lately, and I can tell it’s catching up with me. A crash is coming, but I need to make it through the rest of today. After work, I’ll hopefully be so drained that I’ll sleep for twelve hours.
“Phoebe? You ok?” Ty looks concerned, and I have to give him credit. I wasn’t sure he’d be able to stick to the truce we called, but he really has. He even made a joke the day before yesterday. I was almost too shocked to laugh.
“Sorry,” I apologize. “I’ve been pulling late nights. I’m not much of a sleeper, I guess you’d say, so between studying, reading, and working on my projects, well, there just hasn’t been a lot of down time.” I run my hands down my face and give myself a shake, as if I’m warding off drowsiness.
I’m half-expecting Grumpy Ty to re-emerge and say something about how I should keep a better schedule, but he doesn’t.
“Do you want some caffeine? There are vending machines in the back. Or Drip’s not far…”
