Players of Marycliff University Box Set, Books 1–3

by Jerica MacMillan

  Megan took it all in, not recognizing as many people as she expected to because of their costumes. She was less recognizable than normal as well, with her hair the wrong color. A young woman in a skirt suit turned, and Megan almost did a double take. “Abby?”

  With a grin, Abby rushed over and gave her a hug, lightly touching Megan's curls. “Hey! I almost didn't recognize you with your hair like this. I like it!”

  Megan laughed. “I know what you mean. I've never seen you dressed like this before.”

  “Well, I'm Pepper Potts, so I have to look the part.” She pulled out her phone, put on a serious face, and pretended to check it. “Mr. Stark will be with you in a moment.” Her serious face broke into a grin, and she turned to grab the tall guy in a leather jacket behind her. When he turned, Megan saw Lance sporting a goatee, a T-shirt under his jacket with a glowing ring in the center of his chest.

  He pulled sunglasses down his nose and looked her up and down over the top of them. “Nice to see you, Black Widow.”

  “Nice to see you too, Mr. Stark.” Megan couldn't help but laugh at him. He chuckled as well before he pulled Abby to his side and bent down to kiss her.

  Chris appeared at her elbow, drinks in hand. He handed one to her before taking in Lance and Abby's costumes. “Nice. You guys look perfect.”

  They talked and laughed together as a group for a while before Matt drifted off on his own. The two couples took to the dance floor, the alcohol loosening up Abby enough that she danced for more than one song, though she and Lance wandered off long before Megan and Chris finished.

  The team took their costume party seriously, with everyone dressed up and none of those stupid “costumes” made of a T-shirt with some ridiculous thing written on it in sharpie. It happened every year on the team’s free weekend, regardless of how close it was to Halloween, the team managers acting as judges for the costume contest.

  Matt and Chris were determined to win the group costume category, which explained why they’d been so insistent that she dye her hair, and why Chris wasn't willing to go for a cheap DIY version of Captain America.

  Eventually it was time for the costumes to be judged. She and Chris split up to find the other three members of their group so they could meet in the entryway before going in. Megan made a pass through the kitchen, then down the back hallway, checking out the bathroom line and listening for recognizable voices next to the bedrooms. She felt like a creeper, but didn't want to walk in on random people hooking up, so she just tried to determine if the voices in the occupied rooms belonged to any of her people as quickly as possible before moving on.

  With no sign of Lance, Abby, or Matt, she wandered back toward the living room. She spotted a Captain America with his back to her near the entryway, a blonde chick dressed as a slutty devil wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.

  Huh.

  She hadn't noticed more than one Captain America here earlier. But Chris wouldn't let some random chick wrap herself around him like that. Would he?

  Captain America turned, his hands on the slutty devil's arms. Megan sucked in a breath, her gut clenching. Chris laughed and looked down at the girl, his hands still on her arms. The girl went up on tiptoe, obviously trying to kiss him, but he turned his head, and she got his cheek.

  “You know it's just a matter of time, right?”

  Megan ripped her eyes away from the scene unfolding in front of her, Chris with his hands on someone else and not flinging her away in disgust. Turning to the owner of the voice, she saw a redhead dressed as a Playboy bunny in a black corset with white bunny ears on her head. Normally Megan would've laughed at the cliché, but she was too shocked and confused to say anything but, “What?”

  The bunny nodded toward Chris and the blonde she-devil. His hands were still on her shoulders, but he'd set her away from him. His expression was hard to read with half his face covered.

  “Until he dumps you and moves on. I'm shocked you've lasted as long as you have.”

  Megan looked at the bunny again, who ran her eyes up and down Megan's body, the look on her face one of condescending judgment. The talking cliché continued before Megan could respond, her neurons still firing on a time delay. “I can only imagine he started fucking you because you live in their house. I can't blame him. With the football season being what it is, these guys don't have time for chasing skirts as much as during the rest of the year. But he doesn't do relationships.” She smirked. “You're sweet, but don't get too attached.”

  With that, she flounced off, her fluffy tail bobbing behind her with the sway of her hips, leaving Megan and her brain to catch up with what had just happened. But she couldn't. Couldn't process this. When she looked back into the living room, Chris and the she-devil were nowhere to be seen. She didn't know what that meant. He hadn't kissed her, so she didn't think he was in a back room fucking her.

  God, that would be humiliating. Chris wouldn't do that to her, right? They'd agreed that they'd break up when one of them wanted to move on. He hadn't done anything to make her doubt him before now. Sure, girls were always swarming him at parties, but he'd always given them his charming smile and then found Megan.

  But he hadn't found her yet. Bile rose in Megan's throat. They were supposed to be looking for the other three. Maybe that's what Chris was doing.

  She didn't want to think about this anymore.

  Liquor. She needed liquor. Now.

  Turning, she pushed her way through the crowd to the kitchen. Once there, she pulled one of the tiny Solo cups off a stack and set it down. The guy manning the liquor waited for her to pick from the available options.

  “Tequila.”

  Once it was full, she knocked it back, closing her eyes against the burn of the liquor going down her throat and set the cup down. “Again.”

  After two more shots, she felt a touch on her arm and turned to see Chris looking down at her. “There you are.”

  She blinked at him, not sure what he meant. The echo of the bunny’s words blocked out thought and understanding. What if that redheaded bunny was right? What if he were only with her out of convenience? For all she knew, he made every girl he was with feel like the most important one in the world while he was with her. It was after he was done that reality came crashing in.

  “Megan? Are you okay?” He sounded concerned.

  She didn't know what to think or how to act, so she forced a smile. “Yeah, fine. Why?”

  His eyes stood out behind his blue mask, sweeping over her face. “Everyone else is at the front. It's time for the costume contest. You're the only one missing.” He cast a glance around the kitchen. “Did you get thirsty?”

  “Something like that.” She forced a short laugh. It was all she could manage. “When I didn't find anyone, I thought I'd camp out here and see if they happened by.”

  “Oh. Okay.” He wouldn’t stop examining her, like he wanted to see inside her brain. Not knowing what her face might give away—not after three shots of tequila—she looked away.

  “Well, like I said”—he gestured toward the kitchen doorway—“they're all by the front door waiting for us. It's almost time for the judging to start.”

  Megan nodded, swaying a little when she stood, the three shots of tequila in quick succession on top of the drinks she'd already had making her unsteady.

  “Whoa, there.” Chris caught her arm. “Are you alright?”

  She took a breath, steadied herself, and pulled her arm out of his grasp. “Yup. I'm fine. Let's go.”

  Head high, she strode in front of Chris to meet up with the others. But the excitement she'd felt at the beginning of the night had vanished. She didn't care about the stupid costume contest anymore. She just wanted to be alone to sort out her feelings about Chris and how she could be so dumb as to fall in love with him already. He'd never stuck with anyone before. It made sense that he would enjoy having the convenience of someone living with him be his first relationship that lasted longer than a few hours.

 
; But what did they really have in common?

  Nothing.

  He was a jock who might not even graduate, and she was an artist who worked as a tutor. They barely knew anything about each other because they barely talked.

  Sure, she was having the best sex of her life, but was that really the basis of a relationship?

  How much longer could this go on?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Chris kept a hand on Megan's back while they walked to meet their friends. Partly because it was normal for him to do that, partly to make sure she didn't fall down. He'd been surprised when she stood up and almost lost her balance. Their plan had been to get drunk after the costume contest judging was over. He knew she liked to party and have a good time, but he couldn't figure out why she'd decided to do it on her own. And when she was supposed to be looking for the others.

  He froze for a second, remembering the blonde chick who'd accosted him earlier. Had Megan seen that? He hadn't noticed her in the room, but he'd been focused on trying to find the other three. With a mental shrug, he dismissed that as the reason for her change in demeanor. If she'd seen it, then she had to have seen him give the girl the brush off. He tried to let them down easy—he wasn't a complete bastard—but since Megan had entered the picture, he always turned them down.

  The only other thing he could think of was that one of the assholes that liked to talk about her had said something to her. Before they reached Lance, Abby, and Matt, he stopped her with a hand on her arm, wanting to get to the bottom of this.

  “Hey. What's going on? Are you okay?”

  Her lips curved up and her teeth became visible in what might have passed for a smile, except it didn't reach her eyes or light up her face like a real smile did. And he was used to seeing her real smiles pretty regularly. “Sure. I'm fine. Why?”

  Her brown eyes gazed back at him, guarded. He'd never seen that look on her before. Anger, laughter, desire, yes, but never this wall that kept him from figuring out what was going on in her head. “You started drinking on your own. While you were supposed to be looking for Lance and Abby and Matt. Did someone say something to you?”

  “Ha ha ha.” He thought it was supposed to be a laugh, but it sounded like words. The last time Megan got drunk, she’d been extra horny. He guessed that alcohol just amplified whatever feelings she had, which was why she was having such a hard time faking laughter and smiles now. She could block the real feeling, but not be convincing with the cover.

  She shook her head at him, that weird fake smile still in place. “No. No one said anything to me. I couldn't find the other three so I thought I'd have a drink or two and see if anyone wandered through the kitchen.”

  It was such an obvious lie, but he didn't think he'd get the truth out of her in the middle of the party, so he gave up and nodded. “Okay. But you can talk to me if something's bothering you. You know that right?”

  She laughed this time. A real laugh, but still without humor. “I’m fine, Chris. No need to worry about little ol' me.”

  Unsure how to respond to that, he chose to keep quiet for the moment. He didn’t know how to ask the right questions to get her to tell him what was wrong. Obviously something was, but he’d never seen this side of her before. She’d always been outspoken and up front with him about her feelings. So this? The lying, getting drunk, acting weird? Something was up. But she obviously didn’t want to talk to him about it. Maybe it was because they were at a party. Maybe he could figure out what happened after they got home.

  Lacing his fingers with hers, he led her over to where Matt, Lance, and Abby waited for them and watched their conversation. Matt shot him a questioning look, but Chris just shrugged and smiled, hoping no one would ask what happened. They all seemed to get the message, and they moved as a group into the living room with the other people waiting to be judged.

  They ended up getting third place in the group category. First place went to a group of Hogwarts students, and second place was claimed by a trio who came as Han Solo, Luke Skywalker, and Princess Leia.

  Despite Matt getting stuck as DD, Chris decided to limit himself. After Megan's weird attitude before the judging, he didn't feel like getting drunk. They'd settled themselves on a couch around a coffee table with a bottle of vodka and the tiny Solo shot cups. Megan seemed to have recovered herself, and she and Lance were playing some kind of drinking game where they took a shot whenever they heard anyone say a particular word. He had no idea what. He was too wrapped up in trying to piece together what had upset Megan and how to get her to tell him what was wrong. Of course the more drunk she got, the less likely he was to find out what happened.

  Abby sat on the other side of Lance, watching the two drinking and laughing with an amused expression on her face. She got up and moved to sit next to Chris. “Why aren't you joining in? I thought I heard Matt say he was driving.”

  He shrugged, not sure what to tell her. “Not in the mood.”

  She nodded, seeming to accept his non-answer. They chatted for a while, which was nice. He hadn't talked to her much since she and Lance had moved in together. Hell, he'd barely seen her. The only times he had, they'd all gone to parties, and she'd stuck with Lance, while he'd been with Megan. Not a lot of opportunity for conversation.

  He threw an arm around Abby's shoulders and pulled her against his side in a hug. “I’ve missed hanging out with you, Abby. You and Lance should come by sometime.”

  “Aw, I've missed you, too.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed, smiling up at him. “You guys are so busy this time of year with practices and games and everything. Are you going home for Thanksgiving break? If not, maybe we could do something then. Or one weekend after the season ends at least.”

  “I’ll be heading home, yeah. Maybe I'll come back on Saturday, and we can all hang that night or Sunday.”

  “That would be great. Lance would like that too. He doesn't say anything, but I think he misses seeing you guys.”

  He smiled back at her, surprised to find himself enjoying a party where he wasn't drinking or scoring with a chick. Megan and Lance were both pretty wasted by this time, giggling and snorting and barely able to stay upright. Chris pulled out his phone and checked the time. Almost midnight. “Whaddaya think, Abs? Should we drag these two home and put them to bed so they can puke their guts out in the morning?”

  Abby surveyed her boyfriend and best friend in all their drunken glory for a moment before she nodded. “Yeah, we should.” She cast a look around the room. “Do you want to go find Matt, or should I?”

  “I’ll stay here with these two. That way if one of them falls over, I can catch them or at least pick them back up.”

  She laughed and nodded. “Okay. I'll go look for Matt. Wish me luck.”

  A few minutes later Abby was back with Matt and they all headed out to the car. Chris supported Megan, and Matt had one of Lance's arms slung around his shoulders. Lance was singing off key and seemed to be making up his own lyrics as they went. Matt and Abby both laughed at him, which only made Lance laugh, trip, and sing louder.

  They finally made it to Abby's car, where they stuffed Lance in the back seat and both he and Matt gave Abby hugs before she drove off with a promise to call if she needed help getting him into their apartment. She'd assured them that since they lived on the first floor, it wouldn't be too bad. No stairs for him to fall down.

  On the way to Matt's car, Matt cast a glance at Chris. “I figured you'd be further gone by now.”

  Chris shrugged and didn't answer. Megan stumbled along beside him, humming to herself, barely keeping up with him. Deciding it was more work than it was worth to keep her on her feet, he scooped her up in his arms to carry her the rest of the way to the car.

  “Hey!” She stiffened at first, but he just squeezed her against his chest. Throwing her arms around his neck, she snuggled in closer to him, humming to herself. A little contented smile played across her lips as she closed her eyes.

  Chris couldn't d
ecide what to make of her tonight. And he hoped that she'd remember enough about what had upset her to tell him about it tomorrow. With as much as she'd had to drink, he wasn't sure that would be possible.

  * * *

  Cold air on his skin and the sound of retching brought Chris awake. Sitting up, he ran a hand over his face before he threw off the covers and made his way to the bathroom. He knelt next to Megan, holding back her hair with one hand and rubbing her back with the other. She moved her hands away from her face when he gathered her hair in his hand and knelt on the floor clutching the toilet bowl. Her small frame shuddered each time she vomited.

  He couldn't help but be grateful that he hadn't gotten drunk last night. The sight and smell of Megan vomiting was almost enough to make him puke as it was, and he didn't have a hangover. If he did, he couldn't imagine how miserable they'd both be.

  When she had succeeded in getting everything out, Megan collapsed onto the bathmat on the floor, groaning and clutching her head. He brushed some hair away from her forehead and placed a gentle kiss there. “I’ll get you some ibuprofen and a glass of water.” He was careful to whisper, and she patted his arm before he got to his feet. After pulling on a pair of shorts, he headed out to the kitchen.

  Chris had tried to get her to drink water last night between drinks, but she'd been more belligerent than normal about it and refused, preferring shots more than she usually did. Something had happened last night, he was sure of it, but he had no idea what. She was fine, and then she wasn't so fast that he felt like he had whiplash. He had no idea how to go about figuring out what happened. She'd refused to tell him anything while they were still at the party, and she'd drunk so much that she'd passed out in the car on the way home. He'd had to strip her out of her clothes, disappointed that it hadn't gone like he'd hoped when he'd first seen her in her costume.

  He’d planned on peeling everything off of her while she stood panting with arousal, begging him to get inside her. He loved it when she did that, and he liked to tease her until she did as often as possible.