Players of Marycliff University Box Set, Books 1–3

by Jerica MacMillan

  After she'd gotten to Lance and Abby's apartment, she'd tossed her bag in a corner and gone straight for the fridge. They'd come home less than an hour later. Chris had texted her about the same time, but she’d had no desire to talk to him, so she'd turned off her phone without responding.

  When he'd texted Abby, she'd looked at Megan. “He'll come over if someone doesn't answer him.”

  Megan nodded and went to the bathroom while Abby texted him back. When he'd shown up after that, Megan and Abby had gone to the bedroom and waited for Lance to deal with him and send him away. Lance had tried to talk to her, to explain what had happened, but she'd shut him down. Abby knew Megan well enough to convince him to leave her alone, give her some space, and they'd gone to bed, casting glances at her as they went.

  It wasn't until she was alone that Megan had let her tight rein on her emotions loose, and the tears had started to fall. She'd muffled her sobs in the pillow until she'd exhausted herself and fallen asleep.

  A door opening and closing and the sounds of someone in the bathroom drew her back to the present. Keeping her face to the couch, she tried to ignore the footsteps entering the living room, hoping they'd continue to the kitchen for breakfast or coffee and leave her alone for a little while longer.

  No such luck.

  “Megan?” It was Lance. “Can we talk?”

  She deliberated for a moment. It had to happen sooner or later. She couldn't pull the blanket over her head and stay that way forever. Might as well get it over with.

  With a sigh, she rolled over to face Lance. He sat on the coffee table wearing a pair of blue plaid lounge pants and a worn looking white T-shirt, his arms resting on his knees.

  Megan twisted her mouth into something she hoped resembled a smile. “You got the short straw, huh?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Abby's still sleeping.” One corner of his mouth turned up. “She probably wouldn't want me talking to you without her, but …” He shrugged a shoulder. “You need to know what happened last night. Abby wasn't in there. But I was. And Matt was.”

  Rubbing her hands over her face, Megan pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes for a moment before she sat up. “I don't know what you can say to make me feel any different. Chris had some chick on his lap and was kissing her. Since you were there, you obviously saw that.”

  “Yeah.” Lance nodded. “But you didn't see what happened before that, and you left before you saw what happened next. Chris was sitting on the couch with his eyes closed. I think he might've even fallen asleep. That chick climbed onto his lap and started kissing him before he could react at all. He pushed her away and told her off. In front of everyone. If you'd stuck around for another thirty seconds, you would've seen it too.”

  The room started to get blurry, and Megan blinked hard, rubbing her eyes again to dispel the gathering moisture. She picked at some fuzz on the blanket, unable to meet Lance's eyes. “It doesn't really matter, Lance. She was grinding on him, and he didn't look too upset when I saw them. Even if he pushed her away after that. So he didn't take her in a room and fuck her then and there. It's just a matter of time. If not her, then it'll be someone else. I'm not going to wait around until our convenient arrangement isn't interesting enough, and he starts to look elsewhere.”

  She could feel Lance's eyes on her, but she still wouldn't look up. He was silent for a long moment. “Maybe you're right,” he said finally. That surprised her enough to look at him. He shook his head, a tiny motion. “I don't think you are, though. If that were the case, he would've moved on a long time ago.”

  Megan waved a hand, dismissing Lance's comment. “He's been gone half the semester, and when he's home he's busy with practice and school. He hasn't had time to get bored yet. But the season's over, he'll be home all the time now. He'll get bored. It's just a matter of time. I can’t—” She bit off the words, shutting her mouth, not wanting to give too much away. Not to Lance, especially. He might be living with her best friend, but he was still tight with Chris. She didn't need whatever she said getting back to him.

  Lance looked her over, his gaze more perceptive than she'd ever given him credit for. “I’ve known Chris for a while now.” She nodded. She knew they'd been friends since they were freshmen, along with Matt. “I haven't ever seen him with anyone more than once.” He caught her eyes and held her gaze. “Ever.”

  Megan nodded again. That wasn't new information either, but Lance seemed to think it was significant. “All the more reason to view our … relationship as what it is. An anomaly. It can't last.”

  Looking thoughtful, he scratched under his jaw. “You know, some might've said the same thing about Abby and me. Chris and Matt made a similar argument over the summer.”

  A huff of laughter escaped her lips. “You can't compare Chris and me to you and Abby. It's not the same at all.”

  “How so?” He wore a neutral expression, eyebrows raised, inviting elaboration.

  She shook her head again. “You were in love with each other before you tried to move back to Texas. Even if neither one of you would admit it, it was plain to see for everyone else.”

  Lance let out a thoughtful hum, and she wasn't sure if he was agreeing or not.

  “Chris and I have”—she cast around, searching for the right words—“an arrangement more than a relationship. We live in the same house. It's convenient for us both. He doesn't have to go around chasing girls when there's one waiting for him. That's what I am to him. Convenient. Until he gets bored.”

  “Right.” Lance's tone made it clear he didn't believe her. Not that it mattered. Maybe she didn't see Chris as a convenience, but it was painfully clear that he didn't see her as more than that.

  “Whatever.” She looked away again, ready to end this conversation she never wanted to start. “At the beginning of all this I made it clear that he just needed to let me know when he wanted our arrangement to end so he could hook up with other chicks. I'm taking last night as his notice. I just don't want to listen to him fucking someone else in the next room, okay?” The last part came out a little more heated than she'd intended, but Lance didn't seem surprised or upset by her vehemence. Instead, he just nodded slowly, a knowing look on his face.

  “Alright. Does that mean you're planning on moving out of the house?”

  “Yeah. I can’t—” She swallowed hard. “I can't stay there anymore.”

  He nodded. “Matt'll be disappointed. He hates finding roommates. But stay as long as you need. If you need help finding a new place or moving your stuff, let me know.”

  Megan watched him as he stood, not quite sure how to respond. First he was defending Chris, trying to repair their relationship. But now he seemed to have accepted that she didn't want to repair anything, regardless of the circumstances of the kiss at the party. At least he wasn't mad about her staying in his apartment.

  Lance stretched, his hands almost touching the ceiling, scratched his stomach, and stepped toward the kitchen. “Hungry? We have eggs or cereal, whichever you prefer.”

  Blinking a couple times at the sudden change of subject, Megan stared after him. “Uh, sure. Eggs sound good.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  For the first time since he'd been at Marycliff, Chris was glad that they had classes the first two days of Thanksgiving week. Most people skipped out early on Tuesday, but still went to class on Monday. He hoped Megan would follow that trend instead of going home and taking the whole week off.

  She hadn't come back to the house all weekend, and now he stood outside the tutoring center and waited to see if she'd come for work. Matt had his usual appointment with her, and he'd gone in to see if she was there. Chris lounged outside the door, the air crisp and leaves crunching under his feet, hoping to catch her on her way out.

  If this didn't work, he wasn't sure what he'd do. He'd tried calling and texting her again on Sunday, but her phone had gone straight to voicemail, and she’d never responded to his texts. Lance had told him to give her some space, so he was tr
ying to, but he needed to see her, to talk to her, figure out what was going on in her mind and plead his case. The longer she went without talking to him, the more worried he became.

  Chris straightened when the door opened and Matt walked out. Alone. The brief swell of hope in his chest died before it had fully formed.

  His mouth set in a grim line, Matt walked toward him. “She didn't come in today.”

  “Fuck.” Chris took a deep breath and forced himself to relax his clenched fists instead of punching the maple tree next to him. “Shit. I was really counting on her being here today.”

  “I know. She won't answer my calls either. Have you talked to Lance or Abby since Saturday?”

  Chris shook his head. “I’m trying not to act like a psycho stalker.”

  Twisting his lips in a half grin, Matt said, “Dude, you're waiting for her outside where she works. How is that not stalking?”

  “Shut up. I said I was trying, not that I was succeeding. It's killing me that she won't talk to me. What else am I supposed to do?” Throwing his hands in the air, Chris paced in front of the door, racking his brain to come up with an answer to his own question.

  Matt sighed. “I know. I'm just messing with you. Let me call Lance and see if he knows what's going on. If he doesn't answer, I'll try Abby. Lance knows what really happened. He has to have talked to her about it by now.”

  With a nod, Chris waited until Matt turned away and took a few steps before pressing his forehead against the bark of the tree, lightly banging his head against it a few times, trying to come up with another plan. He had to talk to Megan. She had to believe him. Those were the only options, as far as he was concerned.

  Raucous laughter sounded from around the corner of the building. Chris tried to ignore it, lost in the mire of his own frustration.

  “No, dude, that's not how it went down.” The voices grew louder. “He probably got tired of her, and who can blame him, y'know? Or she was whoring around with their other roommate, and he didn't want to share. That's what happened with us.”

  “What? That's not what I heard, man.” A new voice talked over the first one and a chorus of other voices made noises of disbelief and laughter. “I heard she never even gave it up to you, that you were chasing her all summer and couldn't hit that no matter what you tried.”

  More laughter, even louder, and the first guy's voice again. “What? No, no, no. That's not what happened at all. You guys saw Megan with me all summer. You know I wouldn't be hanging around with a chick if I weren't getting some on the regular. She can't give head to save her life, though.” He made a chomping sound. “Gotta watch out for the teeth.”

  Chris's head snapped up, rage rolling through him at the sound of Megan's name. A group of four guys came around the corner, and Chris recognized the one in the lead. It was that asshole who’d been giving her shit at the beginning of the semester. Isaiah? Ezra? Something like that. He was walking backward, looking back at his friends like they were an audience at a comedy club. That sophomore that he'd almost beaten the shit out of in the locker room was there too, laughing his ass off like this was the funniest conversation of the year.

  Not waiting for the next response, Chris grabbed the lead asshole—Isaac, that was his name—spun him around, and pushed him against the brick wall. “You obviously haven't gotten the message that Megan is off limits as a subject of conversation.”

  The jackass laughed and pushed at Chris's hands where they clutched the fabric of his sweatshirt. “Look, dude. It's not a big deal. I'm sure we could swap some fun stories.”

  Chris slammed him into the wall. Not too hard, just enough so his teeth snapped shut and he stopped laughing. “I don't think we can. See, from what I've heard, your boy over there's right. She wouldn't give you the time of day, and you were chasing after her all summer without getting anything more than a couple of kisses. And that pissed you off, so you started spreading rumors all over campus about what a slut she is.”

  “That's not what happened. No, see, we—”

  Chris slammed him into the wall again, a little harder. “You think I give a shit what you think happened? Let me be clear. I don't. I don't want to hear your version of events. I don't want to hear you talking about Megan Davidson ever again. Got it?”

  Isaac let out a weak laugh, still trying to keep up his bravado and save face in front of his friends. “What's your problem, man? You're not even hitting that anymore. Everyone saw you with Brianna on your lap after the game Saturday.”

  Chris landed a punch to the gut and let go of Isaac so he could double over, his breath wheezing out with the impact. This asshole wasn't worth this much time and effort. It was time to make his point and figure out what to do about Megan. Chris grabbed Isaac's sweatshirt at the shoulder again, pulled him up a little, and bent down so their faces were close together. “Listen to me. I'm only going to say this one more time. Leave Megan alone. Don't talk to her. Don't talk about her. Pretend you never even met her, okay? If I hear you or your boys running your mouths about her again, you're going to get a lot worse than a fist in the gut.”

  “No, you listen, you fucker—”

  Chris didn't let him continue, shutting him up with a punch to the jaw that knocked him on the ground. Shaking out his hand, Chris glared at the other guys, who stood gaping. One stepped back with his hands up, palms out, wanting no part in this exchange. The sophomore from the football team watched with wide eyes. He met Chris's gaze for a moment before looking at the ground and walking away.

  Done with this, Chris turned and grabbed his bag. Matt came back around the other corner, his phone still in his hand, his eyes flicking from Chris to the guy on the ground behind him. He raised his eyebrows. “What happened here?”

  Chris shook his head. “Tell you later. Did you talk to Lance or Abby?”

  His gaze flicking over the scene behind Chris once more, Matt fell in step beside Chris. “Lance didn't answer. He's at work, so that's not surprising. I left him a voicemail. I did manage to talk to Abby.”

  “And?” Chris prodded when Matt didn't go on.

  He sighed and shook his head. “You're not going to like what she had to say.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  “Your dad's carving the turkey, and the rolls are in the oven. Once they're done it'll be time to eat.”

  Megan looked up from the football game she was watching with her brothers. “Okay, Mom. Do you need help getting anything on the table?”

  “Thanks, honey, but no. I've got it covered.” Her mom gave her a small smile and a shake of her head, smoothing back a stray strand of blonde hair before she went back in the kitchen.

  Megan's oldest brother Logan whacked her with a throw pillow from his seat on the other end of the couch. “What's up with you? Mom's acting weird. She's usually all over your offers of help, and today it seems like she's freezing you out.”

  Charlie, their other brother, turned to face them from where he lounged in a recliner, taking a drink of his soda and waiting for her answer. He took after their mother with his blond hair and blue eyes while Megan and Logan had their father’s darker coloring. Megan grabbed the throw pillow out of Logan's grip and whacked him back.

  “Hey! What was that for?”

  “You started it.” She tried to whack him again, but he snagged the pillow before she could hit him in the shoulder, then grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer to put her in a headlock. Frustrated that she always ended up like this, she squirmed in his grip and tried to get a hand up to the back of his head. If she could manage it, she could yank on his hair until he let go. He kept it pretty short, but there was enough to grab ahold of if she could just get to it. But the way he had her pinned pushed her shoulder into the back of the couch, and she couldn't get her arm around. “Let me go!” she squealed while Charlie cackled.

  Logan held her without seeming to expend much effort. “Not until you answer my question.”

  Resigned, Megan went limp. “Fine. Let me go, and I'll an
swer your question.”

  He released her, and she sat up, running her hands through her hair, trying to tidy it. Dinner would be soon, and her mom wouldn't like it if she came to the table with her hair all messed up. She had enough problems with her parents. She didn’t need to add anything to the list.

  Blowing out a breath, she gestured at Charlie but kept her eyes on Logan. “Charlie over here told Mom and Dad that I have a boyfriend.”

  Charlie arched an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. Logan gestured for her to continue. “Oh, really? And do you?”

  “No.”

  “That's not what it sounded like when we were talking on the phone a couple weeks ago.” Charlie lounged in his recliner, the picture of relaxation, but his eyes were intense, focused on Megan. “I never took you for a liar, Megan.”

  Megan threw a pillow at Charlie. “I’m not lying. Now mind your own business, Charlie.”

  Logan cut Charlie off with a look when he opened his mouth to say something else, then turned to Megan. “Why does Charlie think you're lying about not having a boyfriend? Did you have a boyfriend earlier this month?”

  Trying to brazen it out, Megan held his gaze for a moment, but couldn't maintain it while she shrugged and mumbled something so he couldn't hear. She couldn't bring herself to say yes, because was Chris ever really her boyfriend? But she couldn't say no either, because they had been in some kind of relationship. So she tried to evade. Not that it worked.

  Logan's dark eyes sharpened, and he leaned closer to her. “You don't have to lie about dating someone, Megan. I'd think Mom and Dad would be happy about that. If you got married, then they'd know you were at least taken care of.”

  Eyes blazing, Megan snapped her head up, heat rushing through her body from the intensity of her anger and frustration. “Who said anything about getting married? I dated a guy for a while this semester, but it wasn't ever anything close to serious. And why do I need to be taken care of? I've been doing a pretty good job taking care of myself for the last few years. I work, I pay my bills, I took out loans to go to school. Since I wouldn't bow to Mom and Dad’s wishes for my life, I haven't had any real help with money since I moved out the summer after I graduated. That's more than either of you could say at my age.”