Players of Marycliff University Box Set, Books 1–3

by Jerica MacMillan

  Trish rolled her eyes, her lower lip poking out in a pout that she obviously intended to have some effect on him, but Matt didn’t know what it was supposed to be. Guilt? Attraction? Some combination of the two? When he just stared at her with a blank look on his face, she rolled her eyes.

  “I asked if you wanna go dance.” Even over the noise of the group around them and the music playing loud enough to leave your ears ringing for hours after going home, he could hear the whiny tone in her voice. And he was done.

  He shook his head and shrugged her off. “No, thanks. I don’t feel like dancing.” He gestured with his chin at Duncan. “Duncan would probably appreciate the offer, though. Especially if he gets more than just a dance. It’s his birthday, after all.”

  She gave him a disgusted look and dropped her hands from his arm. The claustrophobic feeling that had dogged him since arriving lessened a little. It lifted completely when she stepped away and took his suggestion to chat up Duncan. He watched as Duncan threw an arm around her, enthusiastic about a pretty girl giving him attention. Especially a girl who never gave him the time of day during the season. She paid far more attention to the seniors than anyone else.

  A familiar laugh brought his attention back to Hannah, who still stood talking to Coop, laughing at something he’d just said. Coop had all his attention directed at Hannah, like they were in their own little bubble, away from everyone else. Hannah seemed to be enjoying his attention. Matt forced himself to drink more of his beer, the liquid bitter on his tongue even though it had been smooth and refreshing a minute ago.

  Turning away, he tried to lose himself in the conversations going on around him or watching the people on the dance floor. Anything to keep his mind off Hannah. It wasn’t working, though, and the longer he stayed, the more he wanted to leave. What had started off as a fun night out with friends, drinking and celebrating, had become irritating and boring.

  Chris and Megan wandered up, sweaty and out of breath from dancing. Chris knocked into him, dragging the pitcher of beer and a glass closer to him. “Dude, did someone replace the beer with piss or something?” He eyed the pitcher dubiously, making a show of smelling it before pouring a glass for Megan and one for himself. “No, it looks alright and it smells like beer, so …” When Matt didn’t answer, Chris gulped down half his glass, Megan watching their interaction from his other side. “Seriously, dude. You’ve been moody like this off and on for the last week. What’s your deal? You seemed alright earlier. What happened?”

  Matt shrugged, not answering, looking away from them and the picture of the happy couple they painted. They only needed Lance and Abby here sucking face to make him feel like more of a loser. The single guy. The third wheel.

  Chris and Megan both stared at him while they finished their beers. He refused to look at them.

  Chris slammed his glass down hard enough to make Matt jump and turn his way. “Fine. Stay here and be a pissy jackass. Megan and I are going dancing. Let us know if you’re going to bail so we know to call a cab.”

  With a stiff nod, he turned back to the table. Hannah’s eyes were on him again. And she was alone. Should he go talk to her? Probably not. But the thought of Coop coming back to flirt with her, maybe take her home tonight, made him want to hurl. He had a chance to talk to her, see if she was still as sweet as he remembered, try to figure out if she remembered him at all and what that might mean.

  Fuck it. This was his chance.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Hannah held Matt’s gaze for what felt like an eternity, or maybe just a second. When he stepped back from the table, she looked down at the empty glass in her hands, then out over the moving crowd, anywhere but at the space he’d occupied. A pang of disappointment reverberated below her ribs, fighting with the music for space in her body.

  Lifting her head, she sucked in a deep breath. It shouldn’t matter that he’d taken one look at her and vanished. She came here with Elena to meet a guy, and look, she’d bumped into Evan. He was funny, attractive, and interested. She had no claim to Matt, not anymore. Not in years. She had no right to feel disappointed that he’d left. And besides, Evan would be back in a minute. She needed to focus on him.

  “I wouldn’t have expected to bump into you in a place like this.” A gasp of shock escaped Hannah at the low voice in her ear. When she turned, her nose almost bumped into the center of Matt’s chest.

  She raised her eyes, looking into his face. His expression gave nothing away. He’d gotten better at that face since she’d known him last. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He tilted his head, examining her face. “From the way you dress in the office you look all prim and proper.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Or do you have an inner naughty librarian thing going on?”

  Hannah’s nostrils flared, and she didn’t know how to respond. When they’d locked eyes, she thought for sure he’d recognized her. Not from work. From then. That summer in Westport. But with this question …?

  She wasn’t so sure after all.

  But she couldn’t ignore that question. “Maybe I do,” she retorted. “And I’m not sure seeing me at work a few times gives you enough information to judge my character.”

  He opened his mouth and closed it again, shaking his head a little, the playful smirk now gone. “You’re right. Seeing you a few times wouldn’t give me that kind of information.” He leaned in closer. “But my window overlooks the front doors. I’ve seen you every day.”

  The low rumble of his voice sent shivers down Hannah’s spine, but she didn’t want to let him know that he affected her. Still. After all this time, his presence and his voice in her ear had arousal zinging down her spine and wetness soaking her thong. Instead she gave him a cheeky grin. “Stalking me now? That seems inappropriate for an HR manager.”

  His eyes flew wide, and he shook his head frantically. “No. What? I’m not—”

  Hannah laughed, both at his stammering response and that her flippant comment had reduced him to this. When she’d known him before, he’d been smooth and unflappable. The only time she’d been able to get him flustered or losing control was in the bedroom. Or the back of the car, or covered by a blanket under the stars on the beach, or … Yeah, she needed to stop thinking about that. She laid a hand on his arm, the memories making her feel closer to him than she should. “I’m kidding, Matt.”

  His eyes zeroed in on where she touched him. Realizing what she was doing, she jerked her hand away. A look passed over his face, almost like disappointment, but then he put his neutral mask back in place.

  Before she could say or do anything else, a new Lemon Drop appeared in front of her on the table. Her gaze followed the hand that slid it in front of her up to Evan’s face. “Oh, hi. You’re back.”

  “Yup. I am.” He looked past her to where Matt stood on her other side and lifted his chin. “Schwartz.”

  “Coop.” Matt returned the gesture. The two of them stood eyeing each other over the top of her head.

  Feeling uncomfortable with the tension now crackling in the air around her, Hannah shifted, looking from one to the other before settling on Evan. “I’m interning at the company where Matt works now. He came over to say hi. I didn’t know you two knew each other.”

  Evan grunted.

  “Yeah, we’ve played the last few seasons together,” Matt supplied, his voice stiff. “Evan’s on offense, though, and I was on D, so we didn’t spend much time together on the field.”

  Hannah nodded, wanting to keep some kind of conversation going, hoping one or both of them would relax or just leave. If they didn’t stand down soon, she would be the one to leave.

  She knew she shouldn’t get involved with Matt again. If she had any sense, she’d be hoping he’d step back, let her go. But she clearly didn’t have any sense, because the thought of him leaving sent fresh shards of longing spiraling through her chest. No, she really hoped Evan would decide she wasn’t worth fighting over.

  She opened her mouth
to spew out some other inanity, but before she could, Matt spoke. “Hannah, do you want to dance?”

  Her mouth now hung open in surprise. She hadn’t figured on that happening. A quick glance at Evan showed his lips in a firm line and his jaw bulging. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. Huh. He was jealous? They’d known each other for like five minutes. That seemed kind of ridiculous. Turning back to Matt she nodded. “Sure. Yeah.” Feeling bad for ditching Evan after he’d gotten her a drink twice now, she touched his forearm. “I’ll catch you after, okay?”

  His face betrayed his frustration. “Whatever. Sure. Later.”

  She didn’t have time to say more, because Matt’s arm slipped around her waist, and he led her onto the dance floor. When she glanced back over her shoulder, Evan had his back to her. Matt maneuvered her into the crowd, blocking Evan from view. When he turned her to face him, his hands fell to her hips, pulling her in close and demanding her attention.

  They danced without speaking. Hannah had no words anyway, her feelings too jumbled to articulate, and the music too loud to talk over. Instead she lost herself in the feel of him close to her, his hands on her hips, the pulsing of the music, and his proximity taking her back to that summer they were together, dancing near the bonfire on the beach, the chilly night air making long sleeves mandatory even in the summer, the heat of Matt surrounding her, keeping the cold away with his body and his mouth, her own arousal ratcheting her body temperature higher so that she didn’t notice the wind blowing off the ocean or even the other people around her.

  He pulled her closer, their legs tangling, grinding her into his pelvis as they moved. She looped her arms around his neck, the growl that she felt more than heard pulling her out of her memories and back to the present. Back to the reality that Matt was here, now, in front of her. A memory come to life. She shouldn’t be doing this. She shouldn’t be risking her heart all over again. Not when he’d already ghosted on her once. Even if she still harbored feelings for him, trusting him again would be a stupid idea.

  Her thoughts must have shown on her face because Matt looked at her with concern and loosened his grip on her. She dropped her arms and stepped back, bumping into someone behind her. She barely heard the girl’s shout of, “Hey! Watch it!” Hannah turned and pushed her way through the crowd.

  Fuck. Fuckity fuck fucker. She needed to get away. Because she was already in danger of doing the very thing she knew she needed to avoid—falling headfirst into it, into him, all over again.

  * * *

  Hannah pushed her way through the crowd, intent on escaping him. She’d felt so good against him that he hadn’t been able to stop the rumble of pleasure and want from bursting from his chest. For some reason that had scared her. She’d backed up, the look on her face startled, and now she was running away from him.

  Shit. He pushed after her on instinct, the need to check on her and reassure her overpowering everything else. The crowd kept his long legs from eating up the distance between them until they got to the clear space near the door.

  He caught her just as she pushed through the doorway, his fingers closing around the soft skin of her upper arm. “Hey. What’s going on? Why are you running away?”

  Turning to face him, she shook her head. The bouncer at the door stepped forward to make sure everything was okay, and Matt let go of her, holding his hands up palms out.

  She looked confused for a second before the bouncer spoke. “Everything okay?”

  The panicky expression relaxed as she addressed the bouncer, but didn’t go away completely. “No. Yes. I mean, he’s fine. We know each other. I just, uh, I need some air. He’s fine, though. You don’t need to do anything.” Her sentences were quick and breathless, but the bouncer took her at her word with one more penetrating look at the both of them. He held the door open, and Hannah all but ran out, her shoes the only reason she didn’t move any faster.

  Once outside, she moved away from the doorway and the clusters of people out front, down in front of the darkened windows of a storefront. She bent at the waist, taking deep heaving breaths.

  He placed a hand on her back, rubbing a little. “Are you alright?”

  Straightening, she wiped at her eyes. Shit. Was she crying? What the hell was she crying about? He’d never had a chick react like that from some grinding on the dance floor. Then she let out a bark of laughter. She was laughing now? He let his hand drop and stepped back, shoving his hands in his pockets.

  With a shake of her head, she finally looked at him. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” She waved a hand back toward the door they’d just exited. “I don’t even—I don’t know how to act right now.”

  Matt grunted in response, his brain trying to decipher what was going on with her. “Look, is this because you’re an intern at my work? Because—”

  He stopped talking at the vigorous shaking of her head. “No, that’s not why—” She cut off, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, and shook her head again. “That’s a good point, but that’s not what this is about.” She’d grown quieter now and seemed to be calming down from the hysteria that had overtaken her.

  He took a step closer, a swell of hope in his chest. Did she remember him after all? “What’s it about, then?”

  She shook her head again and didn’t answer. He reached out and ran a hand over her bare arm. It had been warmer today than the rest of the week, but it was still January, and she had goosebumps covering her exposed skin. She shivered, and he couldn’t help himself. He drew her close again and wrapped his arms around her, blocking the cold from reaching her with his own body as best he could, remembering how he’d done the same thing the first evening they’d spent together at the party on the beach. He used to hold her like this often that summer, and she fit against him so that he could rest his chin on top of her head. With her heels on he couldn’t do that, but she did lay her head on his shoulder, accepting his warmth and closeness.

  He shifted a little, keenly aware of the fact that he’d been hard since they were dancing. While he’d pulled her close to grind his dick against her inside the club, now that seemed inappropriate, and he tried to keep her from pressing against him, not wanting to call her attention to it. He groaned when she moved to maintain contact, their thighs pressing against each other, his pelvis tight against her lower belly. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, her lips open in a silent gasp, and he couldn’t help himself. Again. He needed to know if she tasted the same as he remembered.

  With a tilt of his head, his lips covered hers, and he breathed her in, her light citrusy smell tickling his nose and the faint taste of strawberries from her lip gloss on his tongue. She responded, pushing against him, her tongue sliding against his, and it just felt so … right. Like this was what he’d been looking for all along. Since she’d left at the end of that summer, he’d craved this feeling of rightness again, and been unable to find it anywhere.

  The cold air slapped him in the face when she wrenched herself away. She stared at him with wide eyes, unblinking, her fingers over her lips, shaking her head. Running her hands over her face, he heard her muttering and couldn’t make it out.

  He took a step toward her again, trying to figure out what she was saying, what was going on. Had she not felt what he had? Fuck. This was not going the way he wanted. “Hannah? What’s wrong?”

  She dropped her hands to her sides and stared at him for a moment, giving another little shake of her head. “I can’t do this. Not again.”

  “What? What do you mean not again?”

  “Oh, God.” Her groan sent more blood racing to his dick—the same sound he remembered when he slid inside her the first time. And the time after. And every single time they were together that summer. But that wasn’t what was making her groan now. He gave himself a mental shake to keep his head in the present, because unless he could get this sorted out, there was no way he’d hear her groan in that context again.

  “Hannah? Tell me what’s going on in your head.” He tried to sound calm and collected,
and he thought he succeeded pretty well. His breath caught in his chest while he waited for her answer. He thought he knew what she might say, but he wanted to be sure.

  She pierced him with a look. This chick. It was like she wanted to take him apart and see inside his head, and she was the only one who even tried. Who had a chance of succeeding.

  “Do you really not remember, Matt? Do you not remember that summer we were together?”

  He stared at her in shock for a minute. She remembered? “Of course I remember. How could I not?”

  She shook her head at him again. “On Monday you stared at me like you maybe recognized me and couldn’t place me. I figured you didn’t remember anything.”

  He grunted. “I didn’t know what to do. I was in complete shock when I saw you, so I just got on with the meeting. You didn’t act like you recognized me, and it wasn’t exactly the best place to hash out our past.” He let his eyes wander over her, taking her in. Her hair shorter than when he’d known her before, her breasts and hips fuller, softer, more lush. “I like your hair like this. What are you even doing here? Weren’t you going to go to school somewhere else? UW, right?” He said it U-dub, like the locals.

  She tilted her head, eyeing him, her expression and tone flat. “Yeah. I changed my mind.”

  He nodded. “Yeah.” Did she change her mind because of him? If so, that made him feel like an even bigger jackass for the way he’d just stopped responding to her. “When did you recognize me?”

  Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. She closed it and looked away down the street, huffing out a laugh and shaking her head. “Immediately.”

  “You covered it well.” It was a dumb comment, but he didn’t know what else to say.

  “Yeah, well, it seemed like the best choice at the time.”

  “I get that.”

  She studied him, her arms wrapped around herself, her hands rubbing at the goosebumps on her bare shoulders. “So, what now?”