She tore her eyes away from her dad for a moment and looked at Chris. His hazel eyes were sincere and apologetic, his mouth in a tight line betraying his anger on her behalf. At least this man supported her, thought she could make it as an artist, and cared about her for herself instead of for how her actions might reflect on her family. That was what was really behind her dad's blustering. If anyone at her parents' church found out she was living with a man she wasn't related to or married to, it wouldn't look good for her family. But she'd long ago stopped caring enough about what other people thought to let it dictate her life. Too bad her parents couldn't get on the same page.
“Young man, you can leave if you like, but Megan's staying. I'd say it was nice to meet you, but I don't like lying.” Megan's dad sounded even more pompous than usual.
Ignoring him, Chris never took his eyes off Megan. He didn’t even act like he’d heard her dad speak.
Megan's gaze bounced between her dad and Chris. She still didn't want to be alone with Chris, but she couldn’t stand being here anymore. It was abundantly clear that her parents would never approve of her. She had to get out of here.
Decision made, she nodded once, and took the hand Chris held out.
Her mom gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. Her dad's face contorted in further expressions of fury. Who knew he could manage that? “Megan, if you walk out with him, you're not welcome here anymore.”
“Richard!” Her mom's face was horror stricken and her voice little more than a whisper. The set of her dad's face made it clear he wouldn’t give an inch.
Megan looked from him to her mom. “Thanks for dinner, Mom. You're welcome to call if you ever want to check in and see how I'm doing. Goodbye.”
Chris's fingers squeezed hers, offering his strength through their connection. Her eyes fixed ahead, she led the way out of the dining room, grabbing her jacket and backpack on her way to the front door. Her trepidation at being alone with Chris was more than outweighed by the relief of leaving her parents' house.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“Where are we going?”
Chris glanced at Megan in the passenger seat. Even though she'd spoken, she faced forward, her eyes glued to the scenery out the windshield, her arms crossed tightly over her torso.
“I’m not sure. I don't really know my way around here. And it's Thanksgiving. Is there anything open?”
Megan shook her head. “I don't know.”
Chris was silent for a moment, trying to figure out how this would work. He had a cauldron of emotion bubbling in his chest, and he wasn't sure how to deal with everything. He was still furious with the way Megan’s parents had treated her—demanding she move back home and acting like her art was a joke. That would be like his parents making fun of him for going to the Regional Combines and telling him his hopes of going pro were stupid and not to be taken seriously. He couldn't imagine how awful that would be. His parents were happy for him to take the chance. And if he didn't make it, they'd still have his back for whatever he decided to do after that.
He was glad that Megan had come with him. When she'd stared at him after he'd suggested they leave, he was worried that she wouldn't, that maybe she'd just cave in to her parents, and he'd be left either looking like an idiot by meekly sitting back down, or like a jerk by storming out alone.
Adrenaline still coursed through his bloodstream after the confrontation they'd just left, adding to the nerves already brewing about finally getting to talk to Megan. It made him want to take the curving roads down the hill at the edge of town much faster than he should, especially with the temperature dropping and ice in the forecast. Taking a deep breath, he tried to will himself to calm down.
“I’d like to go somewhere we can talk. After that I'll take you back to get your car,” he said as he watched Megan out of the corner of his eye, splitting his attention between her and the road.
She pursed her lips before nodding and blowing out a breath. “Fine. We can talk. I doubt anywhere's open, so let's just go downtown and park by the lake.”
“Okay. Tell me where to go.”
She gave him directions in a soft monotone until they reached a treed one-lane road, the local community college on the left and the mouth of the river flowing away from the lake stretching out to the right. They drove until they were in front of the lake itself, tall pines towering above them on both sides of the road.
“Pull over here.” She gestured toward the left side of the road.
“On the left?”
Megan nodded. “The right side is the Centennial Trail. It's for pedestrians and cyclists. Parking's on the left on the dike road.” She was silent for a moment, looking around. “It looks so thin. I can't believe they took out so many trees.”
“What?” He couldn't make sense of her cryptic comments. They were there to talk about what happened on Saturday and why she'd run away and not returned his calls, and she wanted to talk about trees?
She gestured around. “There used to be a lot more trees. They took out like seventy percent of them in the summer and fall. They were only supposed to thin thirty percent. Apparently they got carried away.” The wistfulness in her tone turned to acidic sarcasm on the last sentence.
Chris made a noncommittal hum. He really wasn't sure what the point of this conversation was, but he let her talk. At least she wasn't freezing him out with silence. Finally she turned and looked at him, her expression solemn, guarded. Not the usual openness with the hint of a smile playing around her lips that he was used to.
She examined his face. “Why did you come today?”
He returned her stare, trying to decipher if she was angry at him for showing up out of the blue. Maybe the fact that he’d rescued her from that dog pile worked in his favor. Of course, since he may have been the catalyst behind it, he didn’t know how far that good will might go.
Either way, she was talking to him now. He needed to take advantage of the opportunity. “You wouldn't take my calls. I needed to talk to you.”
She cocked her head to one side. “Most people would take my lack of response as a sign that I don't want to talk to them.”
“That's not fair, Megan. I deserve a chance to explain, at least. If you're going to break up with me, have the balls to do it in person. Don't just leave and freeze me out.” His hands still rested on the steering wheel, and he squeezed it hard, transferring his frustration and nerves to the inanimate object instead of taking it out on Megan. At least he managed to keep his voice level.
She studied him for another moment before nodding once. “You're right. I'm sorry.” Her face pained, she turned away, staring at the water. “You don't need to explain, though. Lance told me what happened.”
“He did?” His voice came out strangled, and he cleared his throat. “What did he tell you?”
“That you didn't do anything wrong. That the other chick climbed onto your lap while you were almost asleep and started kissing you. That you dumped her off your lap and told her off in front of everyone then came looking for me.” She recited the litany of events in a dead monotone, like nothing she said affected her.
At least he knew that she’d been told the truth. He let out a breath, grateful that Lance had at least been there to tell his side of things. “When did he tell you that?” And why didn’t you talk to me then?
He saw her close her eyes, but she still wouldn't face him. “Sunday.”
Holding back a growl, he squeezed the steering wheel again, fighting to keep control of his temper. “So you've known the truth since Sunday, but you've still refused to talk to me.” He paused, waiting for a reaction, surprised that he was still managing to keep his voice low and even instead of yelling, or getting out of the car and punching a tree or throwing rocks into the water. Those things weren't out of the question, but he really wanted to finish this conversation before he gave into that urge. He'd managed to keep his temper in check by spending lots of time in the weight room the last few days. Sadly all the university bui
ldings were closed up the rest of the week, including the weight room. He wouldn't be able to work off his frustration once he was done here. Not until Monday. Shit.
Megan gave the barest nod in answer to his question, her eyes still closed, like she was bracing herself for his reaction.
He squeezed the steering wheel harder. “Care to tell me why?” His calm tone was slipping, and the question came out like a growl.
She opened her eyes to blink rapidly a few times and looked up at the roof of the car. “I’m not upset about Saturday anymore. I know that wasn't your fault, and you didn't do anything wrong. Regardless, we can't continue seeing each other. I'm sorry.”
“What?” All remaining fragments of control were gone. He was in shock, and the words flew out at almost full volume before he could stop it. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Megan closed her eyes again, still refusing to look at him. Her voice stayed soft and steady. “I’m sorry. But it's for the best.” She uncrossed her arms and reached for the door handle. “The Resort's just on the other side of the park around that curve. I'll walk there and get one of my brothers to come get me. I'll be in touch about moving my things. I'll pay for December's rent so you guys have enough time to find a new roommate.”
Opening the door as she finished her sentence, she already had one foot outside, intending to walk somewhere in the twilight. Chris grabbed her other arm and stopped her before she could get out all the way. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Let me go, Chris.” Her eyes were glued to his fingers wrapped around her arm. The fabric of her coat kept him from feeling her warmth.
The fact that she was so still and calm was almost more infuriating than what she was saying. He'd seen lots of sides to Megan. She almost always let everyone know exactly what she thought. She didn't hold back and didn't pull punches. This still calmness hid something much more turbulent, he was sure of it. Something she didn't want him to see.
“No. Look me in the eyes and say that again. And don't forget to explain why.” He managed not to yell, but his voice came out harsh and commanding.
She raised her eyes to his, and they glistened with suppressed tears in the waning light. “I can't see you anymore. I'm sorry.” Her eyelids dropped, and a tear slid down her left cheek. Before he could react, she'd wrenched her arm out of his slackened grip and gotten out of the car. The slam of the door brought him back to himself. Yanking the keys out of the ignition, he got out, going after her.
It only took him a few steps to catch up to her, the pine needles on the asphalt crunching under his feet. He grabbed her by the shoulders and whirled her around. His chest squeezed when he saw the tears streaming down her face, the air turning solid in his lungs.
Uncrossing her arms, she scrubbed at her red eyes and nose with her hands, wiping away the tears, then lifted her chin. It was the same defiant tilt she'd used when she was going at it with her dad before they'd left.
Chris gripped her shoulders, not letting her go. He wasn’t about to let her walk away from him again. Not until they’d hashed out whatever this nonsense was. “No. That's not good enough. You can't freeze me out for almost a week and then give me the brush off when we finally talk. I deserve better than that from you.” He managed to keep himself from shaking her to make a point, but his fingers dug into the thick fabric of her coat. “And you can't go back to your family. They'll make you leave school and give up your art. You can't do that.”
The defiant look softened, and her brows crinkled together. She sniffed, reaching up and rubbing her nose again. “Why do you care so much?” Her curls bounced as she shook her head, not giving him a chance to answer her question. She took a step back and broke his grip. “I can't do this anymore, Chris. I just—” She looked away over the water for a moment, the sun little more than an orange glow over the hills ringing the lake, searching for words. “This semester's been fun, but we both know it's not going anywhere. I'm going to be really busy next semester with all my upper level classes.” She raised her face, closing her eyes. “And I need to find a roommate and a new place to live.” When she looked back at him, her eyes were clear again, the iron control that Chris hadn't known she possessed back in place. “See?” A small smile curved her lips, but didn't lighten the sadness of her face. “I’ve got a lot to do, so I'll just head over there.” She gestured behind her to where the road curved, leading to the resort she'd mentioned. “The walk will help me sort things out and my brothers will either bring me my car, or pick me up and take me back to it.” She tried to smile again, but didn’t quite manage it. “Thanks for everything. I guess I'll see you around.”
Chris waited through this rambling monologue, grinding his teeth in frustration. When she turned to walk away again, he caught her arm once more. “Dammit, Megan. Stop walking away from me. I'm not done talking to you.”
She drew in a ragged breath. “Why? Just let me go, Chris. Let me walk away. I can't do this anymore. This is killing me. Just let me go.”
Reeling her in by his grip on her arm, he pulled her closer, and she went, unresisting. He wrapped his arms around her and looked down into her face. “Why do you keep pushing me away? Tell me what's really going on. And don't sell me that line about school being busy. We both know that's a bullshit excuse. You said you're not mad at me about Saturday. That you know I didn't do anything. If that's not what this is about, then what is it?”
She didn't say anything. She just buried her face against the fabric of his sweatshirt. Her whole body shuddered against him again and again. Warm wetness seeped through his clothes and made its way to his chest.
“Megan?” he asked softly as he patted her back. “You're freaking me out here. Talk to me. What's going on?”
After another shuddering breath, she lifted her face and pushed back. He relaxed his hold, allowing her to put some space between them, but didn't let go entirely. She kept her face down, running her hands under her eyes and wiping her cheeks. Her eyes flicked up to his face, but focused on the wet spot on his sweatshirt from her tears. “Look, I know this was just supposed to be casual. I know you don't do relationships and this worked out as long as it did because we live together and it's super convenient. Plus, you were gone a lot during the season, so it was easy to not get bored. But you'll be home all the time now, and you're sure to get bored sooner or later, and I really won't be able to handle it if you start hooking up with other chicks while we're still roommates. So, let's just end this now, like adults.”
Chris's hands tightened around her elbows, where he still held onto her. “You think I'm going to get bored?” He couldn't keep the incredulity out of his voice. “That's why you're breaking up with me? You're leaving me first, so I don't leave you?”
“No, that's not—” She cut herself off, putting her hands on his chest and pushing a little. “I just—This just isn't working for me anymore, okay? I can't do this.”
“What can't you do? What's not working?” He had no idea what she was talking about, and made no effort to keep his confusion out of his voice. But he knew one thing for sure. “There's something you're not telling me. Something you've been keeping from me since the Halloween party. What happened there? I don't want this to end. If something's wrong, tell me, and we can fix it. Don't just walk away.”
She wrapped her arms around herself and tucked her chin down, withdrawing. “I can't be your convenient fuck buddy anymore. I want more than that. Just let me go.”
Flinching, he dropped his hands, giving in to her request to let her go at last. “A convenient fuck buddy? Is that what you think you are? Is that what you think I am?” His voice grew louder with each question. The wind off the lake picked up, slicing through his sweatshirt, freezing the wet spot on his chest.
Megan put out a hand, almost like she was reaching for him, but she dropped it. “Don't you?” Her tone sounded almost pleading. “If that's not what I am to you, then what am I?”
He put his hands in his pockets, trying to a
dopt a casual stance and expression, but the harshness of his voice ruined the effect. “Well, I sort of thought you were my girlfriend.”
Megan looked stunned. Her mouth fell open, and she froze. “Really?”
The tortured hope in that one whispered word almost broke Chris's heart. He reached for her, and she didn't back away or try to escape. “What did you think was going on? You said you wanted to be exclusive way back in September. That usually means girlfriend, doesn't it? Did I miss something?” Chris pulled her in closer, holding her against him again, driving out the cold with her warmth.
She had her hands over her mouth and shook her head. “We never defined anything. I didn't want to assume. And then at the Halloween party, someone was saying—” She shook her head again. “Never mind. It doesn't matter.”
He squeezed her. “Yes it does. What happened? What did someone say?” Finally he was getting to the bottom of this.
“Someone told me that you were only with me because I was a convenient fuck. Having me in the house saved you from having to go out and find someone to hook up with. That you'd get tired of me sooner than later, especially once the season ended.”
Chris's fingers tightened in the fabric of Megan's coat, his jaw clenching again. “Who said that?”
She shook her head. “I don't know. Some girl. It was when I went looking for Matt, Lance, and Abby at the party. I'd checked all the back rooms and was headed back to the living room when I saw the girl in the slutty devil costume hitting on you. A redhead dressed as a Playboy bunny came up next to me and started talking.”
Eyes closed, Chris let out a breath, that night finally starting to make more sense. “That's why you started doing shots in the kitchen?”
She nodded, not meeting his eyes again. “It made sense. What she said made terrible sense, and I couldn't get the idea out of my head.”
God, what had she been thinking? Believing some jealous bitch at a party instead of the evidence in front of her? He rushed home to her every night, texted her and called her as much as possible when he was out of town. Hell, he even did homework with her. If that didn't seem like a commitment, he didn't know what did. “You know I turned the slutty devil down, don't you?” He waited for her nod before he continued. “Why didn't you talk to me about it? You of all people should know better than to listen to gossip at a party.”
Players of Marycliff University Box Set, Books 1–3 Page 44