Managed Hearts (Players of Marycliff University, #3)

by Jerica MacMillan

  She smiled widely. “Sure!”

  Evan smiled back at her, drained the last of his beer, and stood. He ushered her over to the group with a hand on her back, and Hannah enjoyed the feeling of a guy paying attention to her, claiming her, if only for the night.

  When they arrived at the tall tables where Evan’s friends were gathered, the group split apart, making room for them. Hannah stepped into the gap, Evan moving close beside her, angling his body so he was able to face the table as well as her. Looking around, she realized she recognized a few people from her classes, and nodded in greeting. Nothing prepared her, though, for the recognition that struck her like a bolt of lightning when she looked to the end of the group and saw Matt standing there glowering at her.

  So much for her plan to forget about him tonight.

  * * *

  Jealousy prickled over Matt’s skin as he stared at Hannah sidling up to the table, some douchy junior close beside her. Okay, fine, Coop wasn’t really a douche. He was actually a nice guy. But he was touching Hannah, and that made Matt want to rip his arms off and beat him with the bloody stumps.

  Matt tried to school his expression or at least stop staring at Coop brushing a hand down Hannah’s back, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. And then she turned her head and met his gaze. Fuck.

  He watched recognition, surprise, and confusion run across her face. Her eyes held his, like they were locked in some strange staring contest and the loser would forfeit something unknown but serious for looking away first.

  Coop leaned down and spoke into her ear, and Matt’s fingers tightened around the glass in his hand. It was a good thing they weren’t at someone’s house drinking beer out of cans, or he’d be crushing it right now. The distraction of Coop speaking to her made Hannah look away first. He’d been wrong. He was the loser of the strange staring contest, feeling a sense of loss without her eye on him.

  The girl next to him leaned over and rubbed her breasts on his arm, clutching his bicep and tracing his tattoo where it peeked out from under the sleeve of his t-shirt. She whispered something in his ear, but he wasn’t paying enough attention to know what it was.

  He finally tore his gaze away from Hannah and turned to the girl next to him. Tracie? Trixie? No, Trish. Her name was Trish. She was one of the chicks who followed around the football team, hooking up with random players, hoping for something more from what he could tell. For some reason she’d set her sights on him lately. She’d started rubbing up against him whenever the opportunity presented itself late last semester. She was pretty enough, but the streaked hair, too much makeup, skimpy clothes routine didn’t really do it for him. He’d grown tired of playing around and wanted something lasting. A girl who got passed around by the football team didn’t really fit his idea of girlfriend material. He hadn’t actively encouraged her, but hadn’t shut her down either. That seemed to be all the encouragement she needed. He was trying harder not to be such an asshole, but she was starting to try his patience.

  “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  She rolled her eyes, her lower lip poking out in a pout that she obviously intended to have some effect on him, but Matt wasn’t sure what that 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 overly made-up 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 leaving the club, he could hear the whiny tone in her voice. And that right there was the last straw.

  He shook his head and shrugged her off. “No, thanks. I don’t feel like dancing.” He gestured with his chin at Duncan, whose birthday they were celebrating. “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. And even more 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 wouldn’t give him the time of day during the season. She paid far more attention to the seniors than anyone else.

  A laugh brought his attention back to Hannah, who still stood talking to Coop, laughing at something he’d just said. Coop’s face was attentive, all his attention directed at Hannah. Hannah seemed to be enjoying his attention as well. Matt forced himself to drink more of his beer, the liquid bitter on his tongue, even though before he’d thought it was smooth and refreshing.

  He turned away, trying to lose himself in the conversations going on around him then 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 nice night 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 the other side. “Seriously, dude. You’ve been moody like this off and on for the last week. What’s your deal? You seemed alright tonight earlier. What happened?”

  Matt shrugged, not answering, looking away from them and the picture of the happy couple they painted. All they were missing were Lance and Abby here sucking face too, making him more aware of his status as the single guy in their group, the third wheel in every outing. Chris and Megan both stared at him while they finished their beers. He felt the weight of their gazes, but 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 we need to call a cab.”

  Matt just nodded, and when he turned back around, 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 and claiming her attention again, maybe taking her home tonight, made him want to hurl. This was his 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. Then he moved 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 recently occupied. A pang of disappointment reverberated below her ribs, fighting with the music for space in her body.

  She took a deep breath, lifting her head. It shouldn’t matter. She was here with Elena and now hanging out with Evan. He was nice, funny, attractive, and interested. She shouldn’t feel disappointment that Matt was leaving and not looking at her anymore.

  “I wouldn’t have expected to bump into you in a place like this.” Hannah drew in a deep breath at the low voice in her ear before she turned, her nose almost bumping 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 wasn’t sure how to respond. She narrowed her eyes. “Maybe I do. And I’m not sure seeing me at work a few times gives you enough information to make a judgment on 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 how 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.”

  He sucked in a breath in response, his eyes going wide. “No. What? I’m not—“

  Hannah laughed, both at his stammering response and the fact that with a flippant comment she had reduced him to this. When she had 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, you know, 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, and she realized what she was doing and 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, finally 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. Evan’s on offense, though, and I was on D, so we didn’t spend much time together on the field.”

  Hannah nodded, wanting desperately 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 was here to get over Matt, so she should be hoping he would step back, but that thought filled her with the same disappointment from earlier. Instead she hoped Evan would be the one to decide she wasn’t worth fighting someone over.

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

  Hannah’s mouth now hung open in surprise. She hadn’t figured on that happening. A quick glance at Evan showed his mouth in a firm line and his jaw bulging. Huh. She didn’t think she could handle someone getting that jealous over her when they barely knew each other. 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?”

  He finally looked at her, his face betraying 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. Matt’s hands on her hips turned her to face him, pulling her in close, demanding her attention.

  They danced without speaking. Hannah had no words, her feelings too jumbled to articulate, and on the dance floor they were closer to the speakers, rendering conversation nearly impossible. 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 to music from someone’s car speakers near the bonfire on the beach, the chilly night air making long sleeves mandatory even in July, 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 her neck, the growl that she felt more than heard pulling her out of her memories and back to the present. Her shock must have registered on her face because Matt looked at her with concern and then loosened his grip on her. She dropped her arms and stepped back, bumping into someone behind her. The girl’s shout of, “Hey! Watch it!” barely registered. Hannah turned and pushed her way through the crowd.

  Fuck. Fuckity fuck fucker. This was exactly what she was trying to get over. Move past. Not fall headfirst into it, into him, all over again.

  * * *

  Hannah pushed her way through the crowd away from 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, 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 was pushing through the doorway, his fingers closing around the soft skin of her upper arm. “Hey. What’s going on? Why are you running away?”

  She turned to face him and 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?”

  Turning her head to face him, the panicky expression relaxing a little, but not gone. “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 glance over the both of them. He held the door open for both of them, 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 another store front that was closed this time of night. She bent at the waist, taking deep heaving breaths.

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

  She stood up and 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.

  Shaking 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 lower teeth sinking into her upper lip, and shook her head again. “That’s a good point, but that’s not what this is about.” Her voice was quieter now, and she seemed to be calming down from the hysteria that had overtaken her.

  He took a step closer. “What’s it about, then?” Something was going on in her head, and he desperately wanted to find out what it was.

  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 was covered in goose bumps. She shivered, and he couldn’t help himself. He drew her close again and wrapp
ed his arms around her, blocking the cold from reaching her with his own body as best he could. When they’d been together before he used to hold her like this, 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 it, 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 he’d left her 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 a little shake of her head again. “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. It was 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.