Always You

by Jerica MacMillan

Chapter Three

  Matt watched Hannah walk into the building from the third-floor window overlooking the parking lot. Seeing her again had all the memories of their summer together rushing back—her innocent blushes paired with occasional bursts of confidence, watching her run through the waves, her skin chilled from the icy waters of the Pacific, how he’d warm her up after. He shook his head to dispel the memories of her skin under his hands and mouth, the way she shivered when he touched her, the look on her face when she came. Those memories had been haunting him since yesterday. He still hadn’t come to any conclusions about how he wanted to handle the situation. She hadn’t given any indication that she’d recognized him, so maybe he should let it go.

  Despite telling himself that he shouldn’t seek her out, he decided that a good manager would check on his new interns to make sure they’re settling in okay. He made his way to the various departments—IT, engineering, accounting, sales, and finally, marketing. He put off visiting marketing—visiting Hannah—until last. He’d wanted to go there first, but forced himself not to, hoping that checking in with everyone else would give him some time to get a grip on the feelings that rioted inside him whenever he thought of her—a mix of shame, hope, and lust. In any case, those feelings couldn’t lead anywhere good. He needed to learn to ignore them, lock them away behind a neutral face, and do his damn job.

  The receptionist in the marketing department directed him to the cubicle in the back corner where Hannah had a desk. He tapped on the soft sided wall to alert her to his presence, looking down at her with one arm resting on top. “How’s it going?”

  She glanced up, her blonde brows wrinkled in confusion, then relaxing as recognition and something else took over. “Oh, hi. Good. Thanks.” Her answers were stilted. Did the look on her face mean she recognized him from yesterday or from before? He wanted to ask, but couldn’t bring himself to. Instead he contented himself with taking her in as she was now—short blonde hair loose today, no clip holding it back. As he watched, she pushed some of it behind her ear, and he had a visceral memory of how soft her hair had felt running between his fingers. Did it still feel as soft he remembered?

  “Did you need anything else?”

  Her words brought him back to the present. He cleared his throat. “Um, no. I was just going around and checking on all of the interns, making sure you’re settling in okay and that they’re treating you right around here.”

  She smiled, a polite smile that didn’t reach her green eyes. Her eyes were wary. “That’s nice of you. Yeah, I’m good. Everyone’s been helpful. They have me familiarizing myself with the social media pages and looking through our strategy. I’m going to be helping with those—scheduling posts, monitoring and responding to comments, tracking what’s working and what’s not, how our targeted ads are performing, stuff like that.”

  Matt grunted in response, enjoying the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about what she was working on more than the wariness that had been there at first. “Good. Sounds like you’re happy to be interning here, then.”

  “Definitely. I think it’s going to be a great semester. I’m already learning a lot, and it’s only day two.”

  He smiled, a genuine smile that worked its way past his neutral business-face mask. “Good. Glad to hear it. Let me know if you need any help or if you run into any problems here, okay?”

  The wariness crept back into her expression. “Sure.”

  “I mean it, Hannah. My job here is to make sure the interns are getting an educational experience and not just being a gopher for the department. If you need help, come find me. My office phone and email are in the paperwork you got from me yesterday.” That wary expression pissed him off more than it should. The other interns had given the same neutral sounds of agreement, and he’d just smiled and said okay before moving on. For some reason he felt the need to impress upon Hannah that he had her back.

  Her expression morphed into one of confusion at his intensity. “Okay. I’ll let you know if I need anything, I promise.”

  He gave a firm nod. “Good. Okay. Well, I’ll be going now.” He took a step back, and she watched him, not saying anything. He could feel her eyes following him as he turned around and walked away from her cubicle.

  His emotions about having her here, working underneath him, hadn’t calmed any by seeing her and talking to her again. If anything they were more confused. The next few months were going to be rough while she interned here. He could only hope that it wouldn’t extend into a summer internship as well. He didn’t know if he could take having her here for that long.

  The delicious smell of food hit Matt in the stomach as soon as he walked in the front door. Mouth watering, he tossed his coat on the couch and his keys on the coffee table before heading to the kitchen. Megan stood at the stove stirring something in a pan. He came up behind her and stuck his head over her shoulder, the rap of the wooden spoon on his knuckles keeping him from snagging a vegetable from the stir-fry in progress and popping it in his mouth.

  Her brown eyes narrowed in a mock glare. “Dirty fingers out of the food, Matt. It’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

  He grinned at her, taking a step back. “Where’s Chris?”

  She gave the food one final stir before turning off the burner and dumping everything into a serving bowl. “Shower. He just got back from his practice and workout about fifteen minutes ago.”

  “I’m surprised you’re not in there with him.” His tone came out more disgruntled than he intended.

  Megan shot him a look over her shoulder, her mouth curved up in an impish grin. “Have you ever tried to fit two people in that shower? It doesn’t work so well.”

  Matt shook his head, leaning against the counter in front of the sink as he watched her put the rice in another serving bowl and bring the food to the table. “TMI, Megan. I hear enough that I don’t really need details.”

  With a shrug, she moved past him to get plates out of the cabinet and set three places at the table. “You brought it up, dude. Don’t ask if you don’t want to know.”

  Running a hand through his hair, he chuckled, his crappy attitude dissipating somewhat from joking with Megan and the prospect of a good meal that he didn’t have to do anything for. Which was strange. Megan didn’t cook for all of them very often. And she usually had a reason for it. She’d cook for them the night before a game or to celebrate something. Football season ended in November, though you wouldn’t know it from the way Chris was still practicing and working out, but he had the Regional Combines in about a month, so he needed to be ready. Matt had never seen Chris as focused and disciplined as he’d become in the last couple of months. It was weird, but in a good way. He and Lance helped Chris work out and run drills on Saturdays, and Coach Hanson worked with him a few times a week.

  “So what’s the occasion?” Matt lifted his chin in the direction of the table, catching Megan’s attention while she passed him to get the soy sauce and silverware.

  She froze for a second, then continued back to the table, not answering while she placed forks on precisely folded napkins. “What do you mean?” She kept her face down, her dark brown curls hiding her expression. Matt narrowed his eyes. Megan was generally an open book and didn’t hide from him. Her openness about her and Chris’s sex life a case in point.

  “Are we celebrating something? You made dinner and are setting the table all nice. You haven’t even asked me to help. So what’s going on? You don’t go all out like this for no reason.”

  She straightened up and looked at him, tugging down the hem of her red sweater in back where it had ridden up while she bent over the table. “I have a favor to ask both of you.”

  “Oh, buttering us up, huh?”

  She grinned in answer to his teasing tone. “Something like that.”

  “What’s the favor?”

  She shook her head, eyes twinkling. “Nope. We’re waiting for Chris. And he’s starving, so you’ll have to wait until we’ve eaten.”

 
Matt let out a put-upon sigh. Megan patted his shoulder and laughed at him, and he grinned back.

  A few minutes later Chris walked in rubbing his hands through his short, sandy-blond hair, still wet from the shower. He wrapped Megan in a hug, kissing her thoroughly until Matt cleared his throat. Smirking, Chris looked up at him, completely unrepentant. Yeah, he really couldn’t wait to get his own place. Especially now that seeing Hannah again had him off-balance, wanting something he couldn’t have. Having it rubbed in his face like this didn’t help anything.

  Chris’s smile slid off his face. “Dude. Who pissed in your corn flakes?”

  Forcing his grimace into a neutral expression, Matt shrugged. “What? I’m fine. Megan made dinner to bribe us into doing something for her. Let’s eat.”

  Megan shot him a look that was equal parts confusion and concern, but didn’t say anything, her attention diverted by Chris squeezing her ass. “Babe, you know there are better ways to convince me to do something for you than making me dinner.”

  Sweet Jesus, could he not catch a break? “On second thought, I might be losing my appetite.”

  Megan pushed Chris’s hands away and glared at him before turning to Matt. “Come on. Eat dinner with us. You should be used to Chris acting like that by now.”

  Matt ran a hand over his face. She was right. This wasn’t anything new. But that didn’t stop him from feeling kinda sick of it. “Fine. I’ll eat.” He pointed at Chris, “But seriously, dude, keep your hands to yourself until you guys are alone, got it?”

  Holding up his hands, Chris pasted a “who me?” look on his face. “Whatever you say, man. No need to get your panties in a twist.”

  Matt flipped him off, and Chris laughed.

  Silence descended as they settled in their seats, passed around the food, and started eating. Their schedules were much more erratic than they had been during the fall semester, so they were rarely all three home at the same time anyway. He had a lot more time to himself these days, which probably contributed to why he got so annoyed with Chris’s constant displays of affection when they were around.

  It didn’t help that he’d graduated and had a full-time job now, while they were still living the carefree student life. At least that’s how it seemed to him. Yeah, Megan, the art major, was working on getting more of her paintings in local shows, and Chris had his work cut out for him at the Regional Combines, trying to get into the NFL, but no one else had to work the same schedule every single day like he did. He wouldn’t say it to them, but he felt like the serious one of the three of them, working a boring job while they pursued their pie-in-the-sky dreams.

  It irritated him, how they got to do whatever they wanted. And made him a little jealous. He tried to suppress that, but failed miserably most of the time. He’d love to be able to pursue his dreams. But his passion, his first love—surfing—didn’t lend itself to financial stability or any kind of career prospects. Not for him. He knew he wasn’t good enough to go pro. He’d accepted that a long time ago. Even if he did spend time daydreaming of business ideas that would get him back in the water. No, the best he could hope for was a good job with a good company where he could take surfing vacations once or twice a year.

  Matt forced his thoughts back to their dinner and whatever Megan wanted. He waited until she’d taken a few bites before he asked again, “So, what favor are you needing?” He sat back, taking a drink of his water to give her time to answer. Chris turned his head in her direction as well, but didn’t stop eating.

  She sat up straighter, set her fork down, and finished chewing before she spoke. “Well, you know how I’m trying to set up a show for later this year, right?”

  He and Chris both nodded, encouraging her to continue.

  She took a deep breath, steeling herself. “I want to do a study in skin tone contrasts. So, I need a bunch of models with varying skin colors. And I want to pose people in groups and pairs to show the variations in comparison to one another.”

  Matt glanced at Chris, who’d stopped mid-chew to study his girlfriend. Chris swallowed and took a drink of water. “So you want us to pose naked for you or something?”

  “Not us together, though, right?” Matt couldn’t help interjecting. No way did he want to pose naked with another dude, even if the dude was one of his closest friends. Not gonna happen.

  Megan laughed. “No and no. I mean, yes, I’d love to have you guys model for me if you will, but you won’t have to be completely naked, just shirtless, or maybe in a speedo.” Matt’s eyes widened, but Megan kept going before he could say anything. “But not you two together. While your skin is different colors, you don’t contrast enough for what I’m wanting.”

  Chris relaxed, and Matt’s initial negative reaction softened, too. “So what are you wanting from us?”

  She shrugged, pushing the food around on her plate. “I was hoping you might be willing to get some of the guys from the football team to help me out.”

  Matt sat stunned for a second. Chris’s loud bark of laughter broke the silence. “Babe. You want Matt and me to ask the guys if they’ll come pose together in speedos so you can paint them? I know you haven’t spent a lot of time around the team, but you have to know that that’s not likely to go over real well.”

  Megan kept her eyes on her plate, and her hair mostly hid her face from view, but Matt thought he could make out her cheeks pinking just a little. Shit. Now he felt bad. “Dude. Don’t be a dick to your girlfriend.” Chris glanced at him but kept chuckling.

  Lifting her head, she speared Chris with her gaze. “You don’t have to ask for me. Just give me the numbers of the guys you think might go for it. But they can’t be white guys if you two are going to help.”

  Chris just shook his head as he shoveled more food in his mouth. Matt sighed. “Yeah, sure. I can think of a few guys that might agree to help.” He pointed his fork at her. “You’ll have to promise them they’ll only pose alone or with a chick, though. None of them are going to agree to be all up close and personal with another guy.”

  Megan smirked at him. “Don’t you guys all shower together and slap each other’s asses when you’re playing football? What’s the big deal? I’m not asking anyone to get naked and rub up against each other. It’ll be tasteful. But I need live models to get what I need. If I can get a few pieces in the series done, my painting professor is going to show them to her friend who owns a gallery downtown. If he likes it, I could get my own show, not just be part of a group showing. This could be a big deal for me.”

  Matt found himself agreeing. “Yeah, I’ll help. Whatever you need, I’m in. I already let you sketch me last semester, so it can’t be that bad, right?”

  “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Matt.” She shot him a sardonic look.

  Before he could respond, Chris interjected. “Sorry, babe. I’m not trying to be an asshole. Of course I’ll help. You know you just have to ask, and I’ll help with whatever. I’ll even ask a few guys for you.”

  Megan gave Chris a genuine smile, her face lit up. Matt buried his attention in his food, not wanting to witness more PDA between the happy couple. Speaking of assholes, he needed to get his head out of his. He should be happy for them, happy that Chris wasn’t going to get syphilis or something, and had quit screwing anything with perky boobs that smiled in his direction. He’d never understood how Chris and Lance could treat women so casually like that. Yeah, okay, he’d taken advantage of the jersey chasers, too. They threw themselves at him. He’d be stupid to turn that down, and he’d never have heard the end of it from the guys.

  But in reality he preferred to be in a relationship. Not that any of those had worked out well for him. The last good relationship he’d had was … Hannah. Everything since then had been a disaster. And with how he’d left things with her, he didn’t think that qualified as less than a disaster either. At least she didn’t seem to hate his guts like the other chicks he’d dated. Hell, he’d even had to convince Megan to tutor him last semester so he di
dn’t have to meet with his assigned tutor, who was also his ex. After the way he’d ended things with her, he didn’t think she’d help him pass anything. Thank God he’d found an alternative and Coach had agreed to it.

  Hannah didn’t look like she wanted to rip his guts out, though, so that was promising. Of course she also didn’t look like she remembered him, which rankled, but that seemed better than outright hatred. He could work with indifference, see if he could get it to change to affection.

  Wait. No.

  He couldn’t.

  He was one of her managers. The last thing he should care about was whether she remembered him or if she wanted to pick up where they’d left off. Even if the thought of doing just that wouldn’t get out of his head.

  Chapter Four

  The thumping bass felt like a punch to her gut over and over and over again. Hannah tried to ignore the unpleasant feeling and allow her body to move with the beat instead of fighting it. She and Elena had gone to a crowded club downtown with overpriced drinks. They danced together, cocktails held high to avoid the jostling bodies surrounding them.

  Hannah drained the last of her Lemon Drop and fanned her hand in front of her face. Leaning close, she shouted in Elena’s ear, “I’m going to get some water and cool down!”

  With a nod and a thumbs-up, Elena waved her off. Hannah wove her way through the dancing bodies, twisting and sliding to avoid groping hands, the flashing lights making it that much more difficult. On the other side of the crowd, she deposited her empty glass on a table near the bar before heading for the women’s restroom. Even in there she felt the throb of the music, somewhat muffled, an echo of the pounding beat on the dance floor.

  Hannah took the time to wipe the smudges from under her eyes where her makeup had run from sweating while she danced before heading back out, shaking her head at the giggling drunk girls that stumbled in as she opened the door. The club had become more crowded, and she had a hard time getting to the bar so she could order a glass of water. When she managed to shove her way to the front, she couldn’t get the bartender’s attention. The bottle-blonde behind the bar was too busy flirting with some frat boys for tips, bending low so they could get a good view of the cleavage threatening to spill out of her low-cut and too-tight shirt, and couldn’t be bothered with other women further down.