PMU Boxset 2

by MacMillan, Jerica

  He grins. “You’re ready to kill me right now, aren’t you?”

  I shrug. “Pretty much, yeah.”

  A bark of laughter. “Sorry, man. I wasn’t even thinking about how you hate having things dragged out. I just wanted to make sure we got a moment to chat tonight.”

  I make a show of looking around. “Seems like now’s a good moment.”

  Nodding, his face grows serious, and once again he looks everywhere but at me. “So Hannah got a job with Earth Ambassadors.”

  “Right. I think you mentioned that recently. Part time, right?”

  He nods again. “Yeah. For now. They want to bump her up to full time.”

  My forehead wrinkles. “But she coordinates all your marketing, doesn’t she? Plus running your social media?”

  “Right. Yeah. She does.” He sucks in a deep breath. “This is her dream job, though, working for them. So, um …”

  “So you’ll need someone to handle your marketing for you,” I fill in. “You want me to put a proposal together for you?”

  He finally meets my eyes, surprise, calculation, and something else fighting for dominance on his face. “Huh.” He looks away. “I actually hadn’t thought of that.” Setting his fork on his plate, he brings his free hand up to rub his jaw. “I was actually going to offer you the job. See if you’d be willing to be my head of marketing.”

  I blink at him a few times, not quite sure I heard him right. “You want me to work for you?”

  He looks at me quickly. “I’m not an asshole boss or anything. I thought maybe it would be fun. We could travel together. You could come along on some of the trips to give you more of an idea of what I offer and the best ways to market it. Abby could come too. You had fun on that first surf trip we went on a few years ago. You even rode a few waves. You could get better. Help you stay in shape.”

  Holding up a hand to forestall more of this really strange sales pitch he’s giving me, I shake my head. His face falls. “Whoa, whoa. Hang on a sec. I’m just trying to catch up. Of all the things I thought you might want to talk to me about, this was nowhere on the list.”

  He cracks a smile. “Oh yeah? What was on the list?”

  I chuckle. “Hannah’s pregnant and you want me to be the godfather. You need a loan. You’re in the doghouse and need a place to crash. You’re shooting blanks and want a sperm donor.”

  His eyes bug out of his head on the last one, and he gives an incredulous laugh. “And what would your answer be to any of those?”

  “Yes, how much, anytime, and I’d have to think about that last one for a long time. Talk to Abby. And Hannah. There are a lot of sticky details in something like that.”

  His shoulders relaxed, he shakes his head, a smile still spread across his face. “Nice to know I can count on you in almost any situation, man.”

  I shrug and pick up my beer. “Sure.”

  Serious again, he turns to look at me. “And about the job?”

  Another shrug. Do I want to work for Matt? Would I want to give up the client base I’ve built to focus on one company exclusively, knowing that my efforts directly impact its bottom line? Not gonna lie, getting to go on surf trips pretty much whenever would be a fun perk.

  “I have to think about it, man. Do you have salary details and job duties written up anywhere that you could send me? I need to talk to Abby too before making any big changes like this.”

  “Right,” he says, sounding a little choked. “Of course. Yeah. I’ll email you the details tonight.” He blows out a breath like he just finished a heavy set in the weight room. “Thanks, man.”

  I grin. “Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t said yes.”

  He grins back. “But you didn’t say no.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Daniel

  I’d forgotten how crazy get togethers with this bunch of weirdos can be. Lance, Chris, and Matt were a couple years ahead of me in school, so we didn’t really hang out much outside of team activities—practices, games, fundraising dinners—while they were still at Marycliff. And most of the time I spent in this house while any of them were still students was during Chris’s last semester when I posed with Hannah for Megan’s painting series.

  That was … something else. That was before I met Elena. Before the surf trip that kicked off Matt’s business. Before Evan started dating anyone steadily.

  And by the time I got drawn into this group permanently, Chris was off playing pro football for the Mountain Lions. But Hannah and Megan welcomed me with open arms because of my attachment to Elena and the fact that I’d posed for Megan’s paintings, respectively.

  So when Megan and Chris come through the front door, it’s with a mixture of happiness at seeing them and intimidation at seeing Chris that I stand and greet them.

  Megan throws her arms wide and gives everyone a big hug. “You guys! I’m so excited we’re all together again! It’s been waaaay too long. We need to plan things like this more often. And maybe let’s not do it in December next time, because I hate driving over the pass in the snow. What’s everyone’s plans for the summer? Let’s get something on the calendar now. We can do a Fourth of July party, just like old times. Abby, remember that Fourth of July party when you and Lance were first dating? That was so much fun!”

  Everyone laughs at her infectious enthusiasm. “Weren’t you hung up on some other guy back then?” Lance asks.

  Chris scowls, and Megan gives Lance a playful swat on the arm. “Hush. You know Chris likes to pretend there weren’t any other guys before him.”

  He loops his left arm around Megan and pulls her close, bending to kiss her. “I’m not that dumb. I know there were other guys before me. I just like to pretend none of them mattered that much. And that you weren’t actually hung up on that other guy back then, because he was a dickhead and we all know it. Plus, I wanted you to be hung up on me that day, because I’d already gotten hung up on you.”

  She reaches up and cups his face with her hand, and I turn away, slightly uncomfortable with the intimacy of the moment.

  “Ha.” Matt interjects. “Nice revisionist history. You were just looking to get laid at that party, and Megan was the only unattached female in attendance.”

  Chris flips him off with a smile on his face. “You don’t know what was going on in my head back then.”

  “Neither do you,” Matt quips.

  “Boys, boys,” Megan says, making a quelling gesture with her hands. “This is supposed to be a friendly get together. Let’s not squabble over what happened ages ago. Whether Chris was hung up on me that day or not is immaterial. He’s clearly hung up on me now, and that’s what matters.”

  “There’s food on the table,” says Hannah. “We’ll do the gift exchange after you guys eat.”

  Megan claps her hands to her cheeks, her mouth open in dismay. “Oh my god. I completely forgot about the gift exchange! I didn’t bring anything. Ugh. I feel awful.”

  Hannah waves her off. “No problem. I got a few extra things just in case anyone forgot. Go eat. I’ll get them out.”

  “Are you sure?” Megan asks. “I can sketch something real quick. Or I’ll pay you back. Whichever.”

  Scoffing, Hannah waves off her protests. “It’s fine, Megan, I promise. Get some food.” Hannah disappears into the bedroom while Abby ushers Megan to the food, their heads together as they exchange whispers.

  Chris, unperturbed by either their lack of gifts for the exchange or Megan whispering with Abby, offers a wave to everyone else. “Hey, guys. Sorry we’re late.”

  Turning to him, I offer my hand. “Glad you could make it. Sorry about your shoulder. How’s that doing?”

  A grimace flits across his face, and he rubs the shoulder in question with his other hand. “Still working on it. You know how it goes. Soft tissue damage takes longer to rehab than broken bones sometimes.”

  I nod, stuffing my hands in my pockets. “Yeah. Sucks.”

  “It does.” He turns away a little abruptly, nodding hello to Eva
n before turning to Lance, a wide grin splitting his face. “Guess they just let anybody in here, huh?”

  Lance laughs, smiling just as widely, and claps his friend on the shoulder—his good shoulder—steering him in the direction of the kitchen. “Well, you’re here, so yeah, obviously.”

  I settle back into my spot on the couch, and Elena snuggles into my side, reaching up to turn my face to hers for a quick kiss. “Don’t worry about him. He’s an injured bear, and you poked him.”

  Making an effort to smooth my face, I smile at her. “I know. It’s dumb, but I feel a little like a kid meeting one of his idols, you know? Which is ridiculous. I mean, I went on the surf trip with you guys, and he was there. This isn’t the first time I’ve been around him. But it was different, then. That was before, when he was still kinda my teammate. Now …”

  “Now he’s a big shot pro football player,” Evan puts in quietly, leaning forward so he can look at me across Elena. “Too cool for the likes of us.”

  Elena snorts. “I don’t think that’s it at all. He’s grumpy and tired and the first thing you did was ask him about the worst thing that’s happened to him in a long time. How many other people do you think are asking him the same thing? ‘How’s the shoulder? Getting better? When are you going to play again?’ And if he doesn’t have any good answers to those questions, you think reminding him of that is going to get you on his good side? Pssh. I don’t think so.”

  Layla giggles from her corner of the couch. “She’s right, you know. Quit being weirdos and treat him like your teammate.”

  An equal opportunity eviscerator, Elena turns her baleful gaze on Layla. “You’re one to talk, Miss Squish Yourself Into a Corner and Say Nothing.”

  Unperturbed, Layla shrugs. “I’m not really part of this group, and we all know it. I’m just along for the ride. No one here’s dying to see me.”

  Elena jerks her head back, clearly affronted. “Excuse me? What am I, chopped liver?”

  “Yeah,” I chime in. “We’re always happy to see you and the asshole you’re still dating for some unknown reason.”

  “Hey!” Evan gripes. “May I remind you that you chose to live with me for years. So your taste is obviously no better than hers.”

  Grinning, I wave a hand, dismissing his statement at face value. “Not the same at all. I’m not sleeping with you.” I make a show of looking him over. “You’re not at all my type.”

  Elena smothers a laugh in my shoulder as Evan gapes at me, offended. “You wish,” he mumbles. “Maybe you’re not my type.”

  Layla turns his face to hers. “Don’t let them mess with your head, babe,” she murmurs quietly. “I love you, and I wouldn’t give you back to him even if he wanted you.”

  “That’s right you wouldn’t,” he grumbles back before kissing her.

  “Hey!” Matt yells from behind us. “Quit sucking face on the couch. Hannah’s coming around with numbers for the order of the exchange.”

  Hannah approaches each of us in turn, holding out a small red bucket covered in candy canes holding the numbered slips of paper. She takes the last slip for herself as she explains the rules of picking and stealing. “Alright, who’s number one?”

  Layla scoots forward on the couch, holding up her hand. “I am.”

  Evan slaps her ass as she stands, and she tosses a glare at him over her shoulder before approaching the tree and selecting a gift.

  The exchange starts out sedate, Layla, Megan, and Abby all selecting gifts from under the tree rather than stealing. But then it’s Lance’s turn, and he steals Megan’s gift. Just to steal it, because I’m pretty sure he’s not that interested in a fuzzy blanket, warm vanilla sugar body spray, and a candle from Bath & Body Works.

  After that, it’s on. Megan steals Layla’s present, who steals Abby’s present, who steals Lance’s present. So Lance picks a gift that Chris then steals on his turn. By the time it’s over and the wrapping paper settles, I think everything has been stolen at least once, but we’ve all been laughing and cheering and giving each other shit. Between the freely flowing alcohol and the generally happy vibes inspired by the season and a party, everyone has a good time, including Layla, who seems to climb out of her shell more and more as time passes, settling into conversation with Megan and Elena, while Hannah and Abby chat in the kitchen. Evan is surprisingly deep in conversation with Matt and Lance. Evan wasn’t Matt’s biggest fan for a while, but it seems that’s all water under the bridge, thankfully. Three years with the love of his life helps a guy get over feeling like someone else “stole” a girl from him, I guess.

  Chris wanders into the kitchen, and I decide to take the chance to approach him about an idea that I’ve been kicking around since I learned he was coming for the retirement party this weekend.

  Sliding to my feet, I head to the kitchen as well, making a show of getting a slice of the chocolate chip pie Elena made so it doesn’t seem so much like I came in here just to corner Chris. Our eyes meet, and he jerks his chin in a nod. “How’s it going, man? You’re coaching football these days, right?”

  I nod, quickly swallowing the bite of pie I’d already stuffed in my mouth. “Yup. Over at East Valley. We had a pretty good team this last year. Almost made it to state.”

  “That’s great,” Chris says, taking a sip of his beer. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” Silence stretches between us. Is now a good time to ask for what I want? Or is he going to get mad and feel like I’m trying to take advantage of him. He seems largely unaware or at least uncaring of my presence as he stands staring at his beer bottle and picking at the label. It occurs to me that Elena’s assessment is correct. He’s hurt and frustrated and doesn’t know what to do with himself.

  “Hey,” I start, my voice coming out louder than I meant it to because of my nerves, “I was wondering if I could ask you something.”

  When he raises his eyes to mine, wariness lurks behind the polite facade. But he nods and says, “Sure. What’s up?”

  Clearing my throat, I decide that ripping off the Band-Aid, so to speak, is the best approach. “I was, uh, I was wondering if you might have time to put on a clinic for my team. Maybe at the end of the school year, before you start your preseason training.”

  “Oh, uh, hmm.” He looks at a point over my shoulder and rubs his jaw, then passes his hand to his hurt shoulder, giving it a squeeze before finally swallowing hard and nodding, his eyes finding mine. “Yeah. I could probably make that happen. What kind of clinic are you thinking? And how many days? Do you want just me, or do you want me to see if I can get any of my teammates to come over for it too?”

  It’s my turn to stammer. “Oh, uhhh … sure? I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about all the specifics. I wasn’t even sure if you’d say yes.”

  He laughs, a low, easy sound, shaking his head. “Of course, man. I’m happy to help a friend out like that. And working with kids is fun.” He shrugs, looking down and picking at the label of his beer bottle again. “Hell, depending on what happens with my shoulder, that might be my future too.”

  My eyebrows wrinkle at that quietly delivered statement. “It’s that bad?”

  He glances up, but looks away again and takes a sip of his beer. “Yeah,” he rasps at last. “Might be. They still can’t decide if I need surgery or not. And I fucked up and went too hard on the strengthening exercises, so my therapist had to knock me back a few pegs. This weekend is all rest and stretching, and we’ll reevaluate when I get back to Seattle.” He holds up the beer bottle and gives it a little shake. “I shouldn’t even really be having this, but what’s the point of life if you can’t drink a beer with your friends at a Christmas party?” Finishing the bottle, he shakes his head. “Fuck. Sorry. I’m shit for company right now. I’ve been doing my best to keep it together, but …”

  I hold up a hand. “No need to apologize to me. You just agreed to do me a huge favor. So I’m in no position to criticize.”

  He barks out a laugh, and his face rela
xes into its usual lines. Chris was always laughing and joking when I knew him. Sure, he could be serious when the situation called for it, but he was never an asshole or generally grumpy. So his behavior tonight is uncharacteristic, as far as I’m aware, and it’s good to see him returning to his normal self.

  “Email me some dates and ideas for what you want. I’ll run it by a few other guys, and we’ll see what we can put together, alright?”

  “Sounds good, man. Thanks.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Elena

  My head still pleasantly buzzing from tonight’s drinks, I climb out of the car in my driveway. I can’t wait to get inside and alone with my man.

  Layla and Evan seem to have a similar idea if the way they sat practically on top of each other in the back seat on the way home is any indication. When they got in the car, he pulled her into the middle seat and insisted she sit there, one arm around her and his other hand with a possessive grip on her thigh. I heard more than one gasp and giggle from Layla, plus a hushed, “Shh!” and, “Stop it!”

  It’s so cute that she thinks either of us care or don’t already expect them to fuck while they’re here. Having houseguests isn’t going to stop me from getting some. I shouldn’t think being a houseguest ought to make a difference either. I mean, it’s not like we’re their parents.

  Don’t run around the house naked or spooge on our nice things, and we’re good.

  Once inside, I make a show of stretching and yawning as I hang up my coat and set my purse on the console table by the door. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m beat. Daniel?”

  His dark eyes glinting in his cute face, he takes the hand I’ve extended to him after leaving his keys in the bowl on the table. “Oh, yeah. Totally wiped out.” He at least has the decency to spare a glance for Evan and Layla. “Help yourself to anything you need from the kitchen, guys. We’ll see you in the morning.” And then he leads me to our bedroom on the opposite side of the house from the guest room.