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Instead of answering, Ty stumbled backward almost tripping on his own feet. He propelled as fast as he could without looking where he was going and fell over the back of my white couch.
If he was that shaken up, I was downright terrified.
I started to shake and grab my phone to call 911.
"Who is it? Is it a bad guy? Do they have a gun?"
Ty was on the floor, peaking over the back of the couch as if he was in a foxhole. He was shaking his head no at all my questions and I started jumping on one foot to another with anxiety. So much for having him there to make me feel safe.
"Worse," Ty finally muttered.
What could be worse? Terrorist? A salesman?
Or….”Oh my God is it someone from the census?”
"It's my coach."
Instinct had me on the verge of screaming so it took me a minute to register what he had said.
"Wait, what?" I stood up straight and looked back and forth from him to the door.
"Shhhh, it is my coach. If we’re quiet, he’ll go away."
"Oh my God, Ty," I squealed with relief. I started making my way to the door to open it. There was a directory for the building so there was no doubt how Mr. Peyton found out which apartment I lived in. I just wasn't sure what would have him knocking on my door so early. Especially without calling or texting me first.
I started toward the door, not worried about Ty, more concerned about what brought Mr. Peyton to my door. But before I made it to the door, Ty threw me over his shoulder and took me right back to the couch, ducking behind it.
"What the hell is your problem?" I swatted at him.
"It’s Coach," like that explained everything.
I stared at him with one eye squinted and my nose scrunched up. "So?
"So?" Ty started waving his hands. "He cannot know I fucked my ballet teacher. Do you have any idea what he will do to me if he knows about this?"
I giggled a little because even with my mom being who she was, I was never worried about her judging me for who I had sex with.
"You don't get it. Coach is the closest thing to a father I have ever had. He signed me up for fucking ballet lessons, for fuck sake. He cares about my wellbeing and has a plan in place for me, and fucking the teacher is going against his plans."
Ok, I could understand that but, "What is he going to think when I show up at the game Sunday?"
"He will think I gave you and your student my tickets. He probably won't even see you."
"I need to see what he wants," I started to stand up but Ty pulled me back down into hiding.
"No, you don't."
"You do realize he cannot see us through that door, right?"
Ty was shaking his head in disbelief and pursing his lips, "He probably can."
"How does a guy with tattoos and muscles all over his body fear another person this much?"
"I don't fear for my safety, Miss Priss, I fear for my football career."
I rolled my eyes and gave up, falling next to him to hide. This was the second time he and I had been on the floor, hiding from another person, and I was wondering if this was our thing. Something we would always find ourselves doing.
After a few more minutes, Ty started to peak over the couch, as if he could see through the door. He looked around and must have declared the coast clear because he got up and walked toward the door again.
