Football came close. It gave him the physical exertion he craved, coupled with the feeling of moving as part of something bigger than himself, though he had to keep his head in the game, paying attention to the unpredictable movements of other players. In the water, on a surfboard, he moved based on instinct, feeling the shifts in the ocean more than seeing them.
But football was over, and he lived too far inland to get to the ocean on a regular basis. With Hannah he acted on instinct, on feeling, more than with his higher cognitive functions. Maybe that explained how he’d fucked everything up. Maybe Janine was right, and he’d used his little head more than his big head. But she was wrong that his relationship with Hannah was a waste of time and not worth giving up his career over.
She was worth getting a new career over.
She was worth everything.
Now that he had that figured out, he just had to figure out how he could do this and get paid for it. Hannah’s suggestion that he put together corporate travel packages for executives, taking them to fabulous surf spots had stuck in his mind. He could charge enough to cover the costs of travel for himself and them, equipment rental, and surf lessons from him for everyone. He had experience teaching surfing, and he’d enjoyed it enough to do it every summer since he’d been good enough for the local surf shops to hire him. He hadn’t done it this last summer for the first time in years, choosing to stay in Spokane for his internship, trying to be a grown up and make smart decisions. Even then he’d come home before the internship started to help out at the surf shop, and on a few weekends when they had more students than they could handle.
He’d have to run numbers, research what it would cost to go different places along the Pacific Coast, and figure out where and how to market everything. Maybe he could get some people to help him with start-up capital. A smirk came to his face as he thought about the signing bonus Chris might get if he got drafted somewhere. He’d be willing to invest in Matt’s fledgling company, and he’d probably get a group together to use Matt’s services once Chris’s first football season ended. That would be the perfect time to take a surfing vacation somewhere warm.
After a few hours, the weather changed, a spring storm blowing in, chopping up the water. Matt drifted in, his mind full of possibilities and plans. He’d talk to his parents, figure out the numbers, get some plans down on paper and get this worked out. Once he had that plan in place, he’d find a way to win Hannah back. Because none of it would mean much without her.
* * *
Hannah threw herself into school and work, trying to block out the memories of her time with Matt and the familiar agony of missing him. She did everything possible to avoid seeing him at work or thinking about him any other time, determined to get over him as fast as she could. Her subconscious was less cooperative, waking her up from dreams of him—of his hands and mouth and cock, his dirty words, and the way she felt with him—flushed and needy, a pulsing ache between her thighs. On those days she got up and took a shower, trying her best to wash away the memories from her skin, not even willing to touch herself to relieve the pressure, and threw herself into homework or an ongoing project for work.
Since Matt no longer managed the interns, she didn’t have trouble avoiding him there. She rarely left the marketing department, and she imagined he stayed busy with whatever grunt work Janine had him working on as punishment. She pushed away thoughts that he was being punished for dating her, reminding herself that he’d known the risks and pursued her anyway. And the ugly truth was, he must’ve been planning on asking her not to take a summer internship if one were offered, to sacrifice herself and her goals for him to keep a crappy job he didn’t even like. That thought burned, firming her resolve anytime she wavered and thought about calling him or texting him. Just to see how he was doing. And tell him how desperately she missed him.
He called a few times that first week after they broke up, but she sent every call to voicemail and deleted the messages without listening to them. She knew if she gave in at all that they’d be back where they started, at this impasse again. And this time she might give in to him, and she didn’t know if she could live with herself if she did that.
She bumped into him once at work in the break room. She’d been in there getting fresh coffee for herself and Sandra, when someone else walked in.
“Hannah.” Matt’s voice caused her body to flush, and a shiver raced up her spine and the breathless sound of his voice. But she didn’t want him to know how much he affected her still. She forced herself to continue stirring sugar and creamer into her coffee before picking up both mugs and turning.
She gave him a nod of acknowledgment. “Matt.” And she walked out the door. He called after her to wait, but she pretended not to hear him. When she rounded the corner, she had to stop and lean against the wall and take a few deep breaths to steady the shaking of her hands before she could keep going. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this, to catch her in this moment of weakness, least of all Matt, so she didn’t linger. Forcing her spine straight and her head high, she walked back to Sandra’s desk like nothing could touch her, dropping off her mentor’s coffee before returning to her own computer to keep working.
Elena did her part to distract Hannah, taking her out to clubs and parties that she knew about. Anytime either one of them saw anyone from the football team, they stayed far away, careful to avoid any possibility of encountering Matt or one of his friends. It was fun, mostly. She enjoyed going out dancing with her friend, and sometimes a few of their other friends joined them. After a couple weeks of fending off douchebags that didn’t understand the word no, they made sure to bring along Elena’s debate partner and one or two of his friends. Even if they were baby-faced freshmen, they were male, and dancing close to one of them deterred most of the unwanted attention.
One Friday night in April, Hannah, Elena, and a few of their other friends were out at a club downtown when an arm snaked around Hannah’s waist like it had the right to be there and had done it a hundred times before. Annoyed, Hannah turned, ready to yell at some guy for getting too handsy without permission.
“Daniel!” Her annoyance gave way to surprise at seeing her modeling partner for Megan’s paintings. “Hey! How are you?”
He smiled down at her. “Hey.” She could feel his voice rumbling in his chest where she pressed against him, his arm still tight around her waist. He glanced around over her head then back down at her, leaning in close to be heard over the music and the crowd around them. “I saw you earlier and kept waiting for Matt to join you. Is he here?”
She pressed her lips together and shook her head.
“Are you guys not …?” He let the question trail off, lifting his eyebrows.
She shook her head again. “We broke up a few weeks ago.”
His brows inched up just a little more before his smile spread even wider. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that.”
Hannah laughed. “Are you really?”
He tugged her tight against him, moving with her to the music. One shoulder lifted in a lazy shrug. “Sorry for him.”
Conversation was difficult on the dance floor, so they didn’t try to talk anymore, just danced. Hannah enjoyed herself more than she had in weeks. Daniel knew how to dance, and they moved together perfectly, allowing her to lose herself in the music, in this moment, her thoughts not taken up with worries about school or work or memories of Matt and how much she missed him. Matt didn’t even enter her thoughts once.
After a few songs, she went up on tiptoes and shouted, “I’m thirsty!” into his ear.
He nodded, threaded his fingers through hers, and led her off the dance floor to the bar. Leaning in close, his breath brushed against her ear. “What do you want?”
“Just water.”
He nodded again and pulled her behind him so that he could get drinks for both of them, water for her and beer for him. Once he’d paid, he pulled her off to the side, into a booth in the corner where they could talk. When she
went to sit on the opposite side, he tugged her in next to him, his thigh pressed to hers.
She gulped down her water, aware of Daniel’s eyes on her as he sipped his beer. Warmth spread through her from his attention. Not the out-of-control desire that she’d always felt with Matt, but she didn’t expect that, even if she missed it. Daniel was interested in her, and he was friendly and hot. She’d always compared everything with what she and Matt had had together, trying to replicate that again. But what if the chemistry between two people couldn’t be replicated with anyone else? It didn’t mean what you had with someone else was better or worse. Just that it was different, right? If she had any hope of getting over Matt, she needed to stop comparing guys to him, stop trying to replicate their impossible chemistry.
Daniel’s muscular thigh felt good against hers, his large hands warm and pleasant when he touched her. So what if she wasn’t swept away by him? That was mostly raging lust, anyway. And she could certainly conjure enough lustful feelings about Daniel, with his warm, brown eyes and his chiseled chest and broad shoulders.
They chatted about classes, how the semester was shaping up, and Megan’s upcoming show.
“Are you going to the party at the gallery next weekend?”
Hannah groaned and let her head drop between her arms on the table, remembering the phone call with Megan earlier in the week. “I know you and Matt broke up,” she’d said, “and I’ve slapped him around for that, I promise, but you still have to be there. You’re a model in one of the best pieces. You already promised you’d come. You can’t back out.” Megan had overridden every protest Hannah had made. Hannah had grudgingly agreed to at least make an appearance. Megan had taken that as good enough.
“Yeah. Megan made me promise to be there, so I guess I have to go.”
Daniel chuckled, his white teeth flashing. “Yeah. She made me promise too. Wanna go together? I could pick you up, and we could make sure we have a good time. Especially since you sound like you don’t want to go.”
She thought about it for a moment, studying his face, and let out a sigh. “It’s not that I don’t want to go. It’s just—” She shrugged. “Sorry, you probably don’t want to hear this, but, I really don’t want to see Matt. And he’s her roommate, so I’d bet money he’ll be there. I—” She paused and licked her lips. “It’s only been a few weeks, and I’m not ready to face him again yet. If ever.”
Daniel wrapped an arm around her, squeezing her against his side. “All the more reason for us to go together. If you’re there with someone else, he’ll keep his distance. I’ve never known Matt to go after someone else’s girl.”
Hannah opened her mouth to suggest that Matt might not be ready to see her as someone else’s girl, but changed her mind. “Alright. I guess we can go together. If nothing else, at least this way I’ll have someone else to talk to besides Matt’s friends.”
He stared down at her, his eyes roaming her face and lingering on her lips. But she looked away, breaking the moment. It felt wrong to let Daniel kiss her now with Matt fresh in her mind. But the more she thought about it, the more it seemed like a good idea to go to Megan’s show with Daniel. And she hoped Daniel was right—that Matt would leave her alone if she showed up with another guy.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Matt glanced around at the people already crowding the downtown gallery space with more coming through the door. The walls showcased Megan’s paintings, the whole place dedicated just to her art. Matt felt a swell of pride for his friend. He knew how hard she’d worked to pursue her dream, both in terms of the time she spent painting, but also the split with her family over her decision to pursue art as a career. There was more to it than that, he knew. More to do with her relationship with Chris, which seemed crazy to him. Sure, Chris had slept around before he and Megan got together, but he’d been loyal to her since they’d been together. Since before they’d given into their attraction to each other, actually. Seeing how happy they were together, Chris with his arm around Megan while she greeted friends, patrons, and potential buyers, Matt was glad that Chris hadn’t listened to his warnings.
A twinge of jealousy sparked in his gut at the sight of them, the easy affection they had for each other. He’d had that. And he’d fucked it up. Hannah wouldn’t return his calls, wouldn’t look at him at work. The few times he’d seen her at the office, she’d looked away and avoided him except that one time. And then the only thing he’d gotten out of her was a nod and his name before she bolted. He wanted to tell her about his plans, but he couldn’t if she wouldn’t talk to him. He’d decided that if he couldn’t get her to talk to him before he left Eco Utilities for good, that he’d barge into the marketing department on his last day and talk to her, even if he had to spill his guts in front of everyone.
As though thoughts of her had conjured her into reality, she walked through the door, wearing the same red dress she’d worn Valentine’s Day. And Daniel Carter right behind her, his hand dropping around Hannah’s waist and pulling her close.
Matt’s hands tightened on the clear, plastic cup in his hand, cracking it, and the rest of his drink seeped out over his hand. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, frozen there, watching her smile up at him, laughing at something he said. They made their way over to Megan and Chris. They both turned to look at him when Hannah and Daniel approached. Megan broke first, turning her attention to her models, gesturing toward a large painting on one wall, that he now realized must be the one Hannah and Daniel posed for.
“Hey, man. Here are some napkins. Let me get rid of that for you.”
He turned to find Lance standing at his side, pushing tiny cocktail napkins at the hand holding his splintered plastic cup. Lance took the cup, turning and taking a couple of steps to toss it into a trash can. Hands from his other side pressed napkins into his hand, dabbing at the cut on his palm from the sharp plastic.
In a daze, he watched one of the hands tending his cut push strawberry blonde hair behind a feminine ear before holding his hand in both of hers, putting pressure on the cut. Abby. Lance stood next to him again, both of them watching Hannah and Daniel talking with Megan and Chris. Chris kept shooting glances his direction, and Megan made eye contact over Hannah’s shoulder when she leaned in for a hug, her face troubled.
Had she known Hannah would come? Did she know that she’d come with Daniel? The way he kept touching her, it was obvious they were there together.
Fuck.
He knew he’d screwed everything up, but he hadn’t expected her to move on this fast. It had only been a few weeks. And she was dating someone else? Someone who’d already had his arms around her when they were both almost naked.
Matt turned away, unable to stand looking at them anymore. Concern shone in Lance’s dark eyes, and Abby came around to stand next to him. Once again, everyone around him belonged to a happy couple, leaving him as the odd man out, the woman he loved here with some other guy.
Visions of Hannah and Daniel together flashed through his head, all too easy to conjure from the easy way they stood together and having seen both of them in various states of undress. He found himself staring at the painting of the two of them, though from the way Megan had zeroed in on specific parts of their bodies, you couldn’t tell which paintings were who. There were no faces in any of them.
The one of Hannah and Daniel appeared to be their lower torsos, hips, and thighs in profile, his larger body wrapped protectively around hers, an arm around her waist.
Fuck.
Had she enjoyed that? Was that why she could move on so easily? Daniel had been interested in her at the time. Hell, he’d walked in on Daniel asking her out. She’d admitted to finding the guy attractive.
He tore his eyes away from the painting, pushing his way toward the back, his chest heaving, afraid he might puke in the middle of everything. He needed to get away, get some air, get his head on straight, and get his emotions under control. The last thing he needed was for Hannah to see him this way. And he didn’t wa
nt to ruin Megan’s big night by making a scene. She’d probably cut his balls off, and Chris would beat the shit out of him for upsetting his girlfriend.
Voices murmured behind him as he stood with his arms braced against a wall in a back corner. A hand touched his shoulder. He flinched at the unexpected contact, so wrapped up in his own head that he hadn’t realized anyone had approached him. He turned to see Megan looking up at him, her brown eyes concerned.
“I’m sorry, Matt. I wasn’t sure if she’d come or not.”
“You invited her?” He rasped out the question, still fighting for control of himself.
She nodded slowly. “Of course. I invited all the models. But I didn’t know she’d come with a date, much less Daniel. I’m sorry about that. I was as surprised as you were.”
With a grunt he looked up to find Lance, Abby, and Chris in a semicircle behind Megan, blocking his view of the party. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he looked back at Megan. “I wish you would’ve warned me that she was coming. I don’t know how long I can stay, Megan.” I don’t know how long I can take seeing someone else touch Hannah without punching his face in.
Megan’s eyes roamed his face. “I understand. I’m going to give a little speech where I talk about the paintings and thank all my models. I’d appreciate it if you could stay until then, at least.”
He nodded, taking another deep breath and straightening his spine. It was Megan’s big night, and she was one of his closest friends. He could put aside his own shit for another hour or so at least. “Alright. I’ll stay until your speech. But I’ll probably bail pretty quick after. If I don’t get the chance to tell you later, your paintings are amazing. This is a great show. I hope you sell out.”
She smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist in a hug, her head only coming up to the middle of his chest. It felt strange to have another girl in his arms, one who didn’t fit so right. Of course, Megan wasn’t his, so it didn’t really matter.
Players of Marycliff University Box Set, Books 1–3 Page 66