That’s it. Enough with this shit. Chris rounded the corner, fists clenched, ready to beat someone down. A girl at the party with curly hair who lived with two guys? No way they weren't talking about Megan. And the fact that the jackass acknowledged her roommates were protecting her from assholes like him just clinched it.
Two guys still in their pants lounged against the lockers and one sat on the bench with a towel across his lap. Chris grabbed the guy he assumed was the first speaker and slammed him against the lockers. At least he wasn't the one in the towel. He recognized him as one of the guys who’d danced with Megan at the party on Saturday. He was pretty sure he’d seen the guy with his hands all over her ass.
“Dude! What's your problem?” Yup. Chris had the main shit-talker.
“You're my problem,” he growled through bared teeth. He shoved him into the lockers even harder, banging the asshole's head again, his left arm barred across the guy's throat, his right hand ready to administer a beating if necessary. A pair of hands pulled at his shoulder, but he didn't pay them any attention.
The asshole's eyes darted around, looking behind Chris. Probably hoping for someone to save him. Chris looked him over, taking in this pissant little third-string sophomore. He was on defense, but Chris couldn't remember his name. Right now he didn't give a shit.
Chris exerted a little more pressure with his arm until the pissant's eyes bugged out and returned his focus returned to Chris’s face. Lips curved in a menacing smile, Chris let up enough so the guy wouldn’t pass out. “Good. I have your attention.” He paused. “If I ever hear you running your mouth about her again, you're not going to be able to talk for a long time afterward.” The guy's eyes bulged more while Chris increased the pressure for a second before he let go. Pulling away in disgust, he grabbed a spare towel to wipe the other guy's sweat from his arm. The other two guys stared at him wide-eyed as he tossed the towel back on the bench. “That goes for all of you.”
“I don't know what you're talking about, man. We were just—” The little pissant didn't get to finish that sentence. Chris had his arm across his neck again, his head hitting the lockers harder than before.
“You know exactly what I'm talking about. You might be a piece of shit, but there's no way you're that stupid.” Chris punched the lockers next to the asshole's head for emphasis. “Leave her alone. Don't touch her. Don't talk to her. Don't talk about her. She's off-limits.” Letting him go, Chris turned to walk away.
“That must be some pussy to make you act like that.”
White-hot fury rose up inside Chris. He charged the asshole again, this time intending to knock his teeth into his throat. A pair of hands caught his bicep, keeping his arm back. Another pair grabbed his other arm. Together they pulled him back, away from the asshole who didn't know when to keep his mouth shut, Matt’s voice muttering in his ear the whole time. “Calm down, man. He’s not worth it.”
When they’d pulled Chris a safe distance away from that little pissant sophomore again, Chris shook off the guys holding him back. “Not another word about her.”
Matt gave him a questioning look. He obviously hadn't heard anything, or else he would’ve helped Chris pound the guy into a pulp instead of holding him back.
But Chris could admit it was for the best. He'd be suspended from the first two games for fighting if Matt hadn't intervened.
After they cleaned up and went home, Chris filled Matt in. Matt's face turned thunderous. Good. At least Chris wasn't the only one who wanted to protect Megan. Not that he'd doubted Matt, but he appreciated that he wasn't on his own.
“We'll have to keep her away from the parties the team goes to,” Matt said after brooding for several minutes.
Chris nodded, having already reached the same conclusion. “Definitely. But how do you think we'll manage that?”
One corner of Matt's mouth quirked up in a half smile. It was sad looking, though, and Chris didn’t know why. “I don't think it'll be too hard. She didn't seem to have as much fun as normal at the party on Saturday. I doubt she'll want to party with us or our teammates again any time soon.”
Chris didn't understand. She hadn't had fun? She'd seemed like she was having a good time when they'd played chicken fight and later when she was dancing. With practically everyone. Chris suppressed the growl that was fighting to come out at the memory. He hadn't liked seeing her dance with all those guys, watching them put their hands all over where he wanted to touch and couldn't. It was probably best that they’d decided to keep her away from the team's parties, because he couldn't handle watching her party like that and not touching her.
Instead of voicing his confusion, Chris just grunted. If Matt was right, it would make things easier, so he let it go.
CHAPTER SIX
Megan settled into the rhythm of the semester within a couple of weeks. Chris and Matt were gone the first two weekends with away games, which made it easy to unpack and settle in and feel more at home in her new place. She'd started to get some drop-in clients in the tutoring center. The English professors were assigning their first papers as the semester got underway. Things would only continue getting more difficult until finals were over in early December, making people seek out help. She also had a few regular tutoring clients, including Matt, who’d gotten special permission from his coach to use her as his tutor instead of his assigned tutor. He said he had a history with his assigned tutor and didn't feel he'd learn well from her this semester.
Megan stood at the stove chuckling to herself at the memory of Matt telling her about how he'd broken up with his tutor, who he'd dated last year. He was a funny guy with a self-deprecating sense of humor which made his antics almost endearing instead of slap-worthy. She still couldn't believe he'd broken up with her by text. What an ass.
On Friday night, Megan decided to make dinner. The guys had their first home game this weekend, so she wanted to make sure they got a big dinner full of protein and carbs to see them through tomorrow. She smiled to herself while she whisked together the ingredients for an Alfredo sauce. It would be perfect over the shrimp and chicken on a bed of fettuccine. She used to help her mom do this for her brothers growing up.
A pang of regret echoed in her chest at the memory of happy times with her mom. Her conservative, religious parents wouldn't approve of her living with two guys if they knew. She hadn’t bothered telling them, and wouldn’t unless absolutely necessary.
Her relationship with her parents had been on a downward trajectory since she started college. They didn't approve of her life at all. Her art major was frivolous and unsuitable and drinking was sinful. Her brothers didn't help the situation much either. While they weren't perfect angels, they put on the front to please their parents and encouraged her to do the same. But Megan couldn't bring herself to lie. Of all the things she'd been taught growing up, honesty was the thing that stuck. So instead of lying, she just didn't talk to her parents much or go home to visit and avoided telling them much of anything. In fact, she hadn't been home since last Christmas, even though her parents only lived forty-five minutes away. The lack of contact had prompted her mom to increase her efforts to reach out. She'd been calling more and more often over the summer, and Megan knew she shouldn't keep ignoring her or only talking for a few minutes when she did answer. She just didn't want to deal with the disapproving silence or the pleas for her to move back home.
The side door slammed shut, alerting her that one of her roommates had arrived. A second slam meant both guys were home. Despite all living together and going to the same school, their schedules were different enough that they took separate cars every day.
“It smells good in here.”
Megan turned to see Matt coming into the kitchen. She smiled at him, grateful for the distraction from thoughts of her family. “I hope you guys are hungry. I made dinner.” They'd become friends over the last couple of weeks, hanging out together at the house and during their tutoring sessions. He reminded her a lot of Charlie, her middle brother, g
oofing off and joking around a lot.
Chris, on the other hand, tended to avoided them. Would he actually accept her offer of dinner? Or would he take a plate and eat on the couch or in his room? It’s not like they made a habit of eating together at their dining table like some kind of family.
But that’s exactly what she’d envisioned when she started making dinner. With a mental shake, she ignored the way her heart raced at the idea of sitting across from Chris, watching his eyes darken as he looked at her, and focused on Matt’s laughter.
“We're always hungry,” he said. “Especially after practice.” He peered at the stove over her shoulder. “I didn't know you could cook.”
“I made brownies for the Fourth of July party.”
“Baking's not the same thing.” He stuck a finger in the sauce before she could smack him away and stuck it in his mouth. “Mm … and you're a good cook, too.” He winked at her. “I could get used to this.”
Megan smacked him on the chest. “Keep your fingers out of the pot. I don't want your dirty hands messing up my food.”
“I just washed them, I swear!” Matt held up his hands, his eyes dancing with laughter. Megan laughed along with him. He surprised her by swooping down and giving her a hug, lifting her up off her feet for a second before setting her down again.
A throat cleared in the entrance to the kitchen, and they turned to see Chris standing there, arms crossed, muscles bulging, jaw clenched. Matt dropped his hands from her and took a step back. “Hey. Megan's making dinner.”
Chris just nodded in response.
“Are you hungry?” Megan tried to keep her voice upbeat, but Chris glowering at her made it difficult. He was acting … jealous? Angry? Was he mad that Matt hugged her? Why? He had no reason to be jealous. For one thing, nothing would ever happen between her and Matt. They were just friends. And for another, nothing was happening with her and Chris. That was out of the question too. The roommate thing meant they couldn't get together. Plus, Chris was more of a manwhore than Lance had been from what she could tell. At least Lance had taken his conquests out to dinner first. It would be unwise to get involved with Chris, given his history and proximity.
Chris just stood watching them, Matt leaning against the counter near the stove. She looked from Chris's stony face to Matt's watchful one and back to the food on the stove. She cleared her throat. “The food's almost ready. Matt, why don't you get bowls for everyone. Chris, will you get us all drinks please?”
The fact that no one had agreed to eat at the table didn’t matter. She kept her back to them, facing the stove, waiting for them to do as she asked. Matt started getting bowls and silverware right away. It took Chris a little longer, but she eventually heard him opening the refrigerator to get out the pitcher of water they kept there.
By the time Megan had dished out the food, the tension had mostly drained out of the room. Chris wasn't clenching his jaw as much and engaged in conversation after a few minutes, even answering questions with more than one word. Matt was more subdued than he had been when he first came into the kitchen, watchful and alert as he observed Chris and her talking. Megan tried to keep things light, asking how classes were going and how they thought the season was shaping up.
“So far we're one and one,” Chris said. “We have a bunch of new starters on the offensive line this year, since a lot of guys graduated last year. Or at least they've been in school too long to be eligible to play still. We lost a couple starters because they were academically ineligible. Coach Hanson was pissed when he found out.”
Megan had to make an effort not to freeze in shock. She didn't think she'd heard more than two or three words at a time come from Chris since she'd moved in.
She nodded in understanding. “So, are you keeping up with your classes pretty well?”
Giving a shrug, Chris mumbled something in response.
Megan frowned, concerned. “Seriously, Chris. Aren't you supposed to graduate in December? Why wouldn't you make sure you're keeping up with your classes?”
He shook his head. “I’m not going to graduate in December.”
“But I thought over the summer you guys said you'd both be done after this semester.” Megan looked over to Matt, who looked surprised as well.
Chris shrugged. “I probably will be done after this semester. I just won't be graduating.” He shoveled a forkful of pasta into his mouth, clamping his lips shut while he chewed and keeping his head down.
Stunned, Megan didn’t know what to say to that. She looked to Matt again, but he just stared at Chris too, with his fork frozen halfway to his mouth. “Um, well, couldn't you graduate in May, then?” she asked. “It's pretty normal for student athletes to take five years, isn't it?”
Chris didn't respond, not looking up from his plate. She looked at Matt again. He'd managed to get his fork to his mouth, contemplating Chris while he chewed. When Megan finally managed to catch his eye, he shrugged one shoulder, nodding and swallowing. “Yeah. Five years is pretty normal. I had some transfer credits from dual enrollment in high school. That's why I'm able to graduate in December instead of taking until May.”
She turned back to Chris. “If you need help, I can—”
“Drop it.” His eyes were on his plate, but his voice was steel.
“But—”
He silenced her with a look, his eyes hard, his voice harder. “I said drop it.”
She looked at Matt again, and he gave a fractional shake of his head. Megan took a deep breath and looked down at her plate, pushing the remaining food around. Just before she got up to clear her plate, having decided she wasn't hungry anymore, Matt spoke.
“So are you coming to the game tomorrow?”
Megan looked up at him, blinking in surprise. “Uh, I don’t think so. I don't usually go to football games.”
“What?” Eyebrows raised, he gave her a look of exaggerated surprise and dismay. “You have to come. You're our roommate. Isn't it your job to support us now?”
Megan smirked. “Yeah. I'm your roommate. Not your girlfriend. Would you try to sell me that line of bull if I were a guy?”
Matt nodded solemnly. “Probably. But a guy wouldn't make us dinner, so it's a moot point. Come to the game.”
Just as Megan was about to beg off again, Chris spoke up. “You should come.” His voice was softer now, almost like he was trying to make up for being a dick a minute ago. But his face didn’t tell her anything. His mesmerizing hazel eyes held hers, serious and unflinching. And while she couldn’t name anything she saw in their depths, his steady gaze convinced her that he was serious. He wanted her there. Her presence at the game meant something to him.
“Alright,” she conceded. “I’ll come.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Megan looked up at the bleachers, searching for a familiar face. About halfway up on the right, a girl jumped up and down while she waved, her strawberry blonde ponytail bouncing. Grinning, Megan waved back and made her way up the stairs to where Abby waited. Lance stood up from his seat on the end, towering over both of them, while Abby pulled Megan into a tight hug.
“I feel like I haven't seen you in forever!” squealed Abby.
Megan squeezed her back before they broke apart. “It's only been a couple of weeks, and we've been texting.” She moved past Abby to the seat they'd saved for her.
Leaning forward so she could look past Abby, Megan let her gaze roam over Lance. He looked good as always in a Superman T-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders, the breeze ruffling his dark hair. Abby had lucked out when she scored this one. “Hey, Lance. How's it going?”
He grinned back at her, his dark eyes warm. “Good. You? How's life in my old house?”
“Uh, it's interesting.”
Lance laughed at her wry tone. “I bet. They behaving themselves?”
“I guess?” Megan shrugged. “I don't see them a whole lot between classes and practices and away games. I see Matt more than Chris because I'm his tutor, but we're almost always
talking about class stuff. I don't know what they get up to when I'm not around.”
Lance's eyebrows climbed his forehead, a look of speculation entering his dark eyes. “You're tutoring Matt? That's … interesting. Are you tutoring Chris, too?”
She shook her head, forcing herself not to roll her eyes. She knew where his thoughts must be going, but her and Matt would never be a thing. “No. Matt wanted me to be his tutor because we have a couple classes together. He convinced the coach to let him work with me instead of the regular tutor because of that and because of his history with her.”
“Huh.” Lance didn't say anything else, just looked her over with that same speculation in his eyes before he turned away.
Megan wanted to say something else to erase that look, but Abby reclaimed her attention before she could. “How are classes going this year? Have you told your parents yet about the move?” But Abby didn’t stop talking long enough for Megan to answer, instead telling her all about how she’d started decorating her new apartment between classes and work.
But Megan didn’t mind that she couldn’t get a word in for the moment. This side of Abby made infrequent appearances in Megan’s experience, and she always sat back and enjoyed it when Abby shed her buttoned-up exterior and relaxed. In fact, Megan couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her like this. Between Abby's mom needing so much care and her brother's disappearing act a few years ago, Abby’d had a lot on her plate without much help. But with Lance in her life now, she had someone to share that load. Seeing her now—buoyant and animated—you'd never know she had anything weighing her down.
Conversation died down around them as the game started, the sounds morphing to cheers and applause punctuated by the occasional shrill whistle. They were playing Campbell Christian College, a small school in Oregon. Megan's parents would've preferred that she go there, even though they were happy about her staying close to home. At first, anyway. Until she'd moved in with Abby and stopped going to church by the end of the first semester.
Players of Marycliff University Box Set, Books 1–3 Page 28