Managed Hearts (Players of Marycliff University, #3)

by Jerica MacMillan

  Elena stepped past her, sitting down on the lid of the toilet, chewing on her lower lip, her eyebrows creased with concern. “What happened?”

  “What do you mean?” Hannah turned, closing the door and attacking the corner behind it with the old toothbrush she was using to scrub the accumulation of eight months of dust and gunk off the baseboards in the bathroom. “Dammit! Hand me a paper towel, would you?”

  Elena grabbed the roll of paper towels off the counter and handed it to Hannah. “Why are you cleaning the baseboards? You barely keep up with the dishes and day to day stuff. Our apartment is spotless. I didn’t even expect you to be home. Where’s Matt?”

  Hannah shrugged, trying to seem casual, keeping her attention on the baseboard she was cleaning. It didn’t need it anymore, but she didn’t want to face Elena right now, knowing the pain from the question was written on her face. “We broke up.”

  She heard Elena suck in a breath. She stilled, waiting for whatever Elena would say next.

  “Shit. I’m sorry, Hannah. I was really hoping things would work out this time.”

  Hannah’s shoulders slumped forward, and she finally stopped scrubbing at the baseboard. She squeezed her eyes shut, pushing her palms against her eyelids, trying to will the tears to stay inside. She’d cried enough over the last several days. She didn’t want to do it anymore. And when relief hit her at Elena’s words, she realized she’d been waiting for her friend to say, “I told you so,” or something along those lines. The compassion she offered instead brought out Hannah’s tears. Again.

  Arms slipped around Hannah’s shoulders, squeezing her tight, and she turned into Elena’s arms and let go. She cried for the girl she’d been when she’d met Matt the first time, for the way he’d broken her heart then, and the way he’d broken her heart again. She’d been afraid going into this that it would happen again. And she’d been right. She cried for that, too.

  When she’d finally cried herself out, she determined that this would be the last time. She wouldn’t cry for Matt anymore. She stood up and wiped the tears off her cheeks.

  Elena stood too. “Better?”

  Hannah nodded and gave her the best smile she could.

  “Good. Now, do you need me to go cut his balls off?”

  Hannah let out an unexpected laugh, and Elena smiled at her. “Seriously, though. What happened? You guys were supposed to spend the week together. It seemed like everything was going well. I don’t get it.”

  Hannah sighed and looked around the bathroom. “Can we talk about this in a different room? Maybe the living room, or the kitchen?”

  Elena chuckled. “Of course. Come into the kitchen, I’ll make you some breakup pie, and you can tell me all about what happened.” Elena made pies when she was stressed or working through something in her head, so they always had ingredients on hand in the apartment.

  So while she mixed together a pastry crust and found some berries in the freezer for filling, Hannah filled her in on the disaster that happened at dinner on Monday evening. Elena made appropriate sympathetic noises, and when Hannah finished telling her about their conversation on Tuesday, Elena looked thoughtful. After creating the lattice crust for the top of the pie in silence and putting it in the oven, she washed her hands and turned back to Hannah. “That really sucks, Han. I’m sorry. How are you doing?”

  Hannah blinked away the tears that threatened to fall again. She gave Elena what she was sure was a pathetic smile, but it was the best she could do. “Not great. I’ve cried every day since then. Like a lot. But I’m trying to stop. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I’ve given Matt enough of my life. He obviously doesn’t care enough about me to be willing to work things out except by telling me that I have to give up on my career goals. Because keeping a job he barely tolerates is clearly more important than me having the chance to do something I love.” She shook her head, bringing her voice back to normal. “But whatever.” She pulled her shoulders back and straightened her spine. “I’m going to focus on myself and going after my goals. And I’m going to put myself out there more to meet someone new. It’s past time, don’t you think?”

  Elena opened her mouth, her brows crinkled and concern in her eyes, but then closed it without saying anything. She gave a short nod. “Sure. That sounds like a good plan.”

  “What?”

  Elena arched an eyebrow. “I agreed with you. What do you mean what?”

  Hannah narrowed her eyes at her. “You were going to say something, and you stopped yourself. What were you going to say, Elena?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I’m just sad for you. But if you’re ready to move on, then good for you. Let me know if you need my help, and I’m there.”

  Hannah studied her for a moment longer, but decided to let it go. Elena would tell her what she thought if it were important. “Alright. Well, based on your picks earlier this semester, I don’t need you setting me up with anyone. But maybe some girls’ nights out would be good. In a couple weeks or so.”

  Elena nodded. “Deal.”

  * * *

  Matt went through the rest of the week in a daze. He called off sick on Wednesday, too hungover to function. He was sure Janine would give him shit about it the next day, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Nothing mattered that much anymore. He was shattered, and the best he could hope for was numbness.

  He didn’t drink as much on Wednesday night. Enough to dull the edge of pain caused by the hole in his chest, but not so much he wouldn’t be able to function the next day. He was right that Janine was pissed at him and nodded through her lecture, making sure to keep his face impassive. It wasn’t hard. He couldn’t give a shit about what she was saying to him or why she was mad. He knew it was because he’d called off sick twice that week, and the first time was because he was spending the day with Hannah. And she definitely didn’t approve of that relationship. But he didn’t bother to tell her it was over. Partly because he still couldn’t believe it himself. And partly because telling her would penetrate the blanket of numbness he’d wrapped around himself to get through the day.

  Friday was more of the same, going through the motions at work automatically, relying completely on routine to get things done. Janine dumped all her grunt work for the day on his desk, glaring at him as she did so. This was stuff that her admin normally took care of, but she was busy checking in with all of the interns that had been Matt’s responsibility. Janine had too much to do to bother dealing with them herself, which was part of why she’d been so pissed at him when she’d found out about Hannah and had to take the interns away from him.

  A bitter laugh escaped him when he realized how unnecessary it was. Hannah had broken up with him at the first chance. No matter what she’d said, she’d been looking for an excuse to break up with him all along, a reason to justify why they shouldn’t be together. She’d basically told him that she didn’t trust him since he saw her again in January. He thought he’d won her over, gotten her to trust him again, but he’d obviously been wrong. She wouldn’t have been able to walk away from him so easily if that had been true.

  “Matt?” Janine’s concerned voice penetrated his grim thoughts.

  He raised his eyes to find her peering at him over the top of his cubicle. “Yes?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Fine.”

  She tilted her head to the side, her mouth pursed and her eyebrows scrunched together. “I don’t think so.” She shook her head slowly. “What’s going on? You’ve barely said three words today and yesterday combined. I’ve never seen you like this.”

  He shrugged, knowing that he was only proving her point. “It’s personal, Janine. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Yeah, that’s not going to work with me.” She crossed her arms on top of the cubicle wall like she was settling in for a long conversation. “If it’s affecting your work then it does matter. And you’re not even filing things correctly. You’ve been here long enough that you know better, so either you can
tell me here, or we can go in my office, and I’ll ask a million questions until I pull it out of you. Which would you prefer?” One manicured brown eyebrow arched up.

  Fine. She wanted to know what was wrong? He’d tell her and wait for her to gloat. He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes never leaving hers. “I told Hannah about our conversation on Tuesday.”

  “I take it that it didn’t go well?”

  “Ha.” It was supposed to be an ugly laugh, but he couldn’t even pull that off. It was like he was just saying a word. “Yeah. You could say that. She dumped me.”

  Janine’s other eyebrow raised up to match the first, but she didn’t say anything. He waited for something. An “I told you so” or an apology or something, but she just continued to stare at him. Finally, she shrugged a shoulder. “It’s probably for the best. If she’s going to break up with you that easily, she’s definitely not worth ruining your career over. Count yourself lucky it ended now before you got in too deep.”

  He stared at her for a moment, blown away at her callous dismissal of their relationship. But instead of blowing up like he wanted to, he just grunted, making sure his mask of indifference was firmly in place.

  Hannah was right. He couldn’t stay here. He didn’t like this place enough to give her up for a career that he hated.

  Turning away from Janine, he went back to the pile of mindless paperwork and data entry she’d given him to do today. “Sorry for screwing things up. I’ll pay more attention from now on.”

  “Good.” She waited a few beats, still looking at him over the wall of his cubicle, but he didn’t look at her again. Finally she left, heading back to her office. He was glad that he faced away from his cubicle opening so that his back was to her, and he didn’t have to see her while she sat working at her desk.

  Now he just needed to just figure out how to do what he really wanted and get paid for it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  After work on Friday, Matt made a spur of the moment decision to go home for the weekend. It would be a quick trip and lots of driving, but he needed the time and space to think and figure himself out. He’d lost Hannah from being too chicken-shit to realize that she was more important than a crappy job that he didn’t even like that much. Sure, it paid the bills, but she was right. There were lots of ways to pay the bills. And lots of time to get stuck into a rut where paying the bills was the most important thing. He was twenty-two, almost twenty-three, and he was the only person he was responsible for. He had some money saved up, because his parents had always taught him to save for a rainy day.

  It was late when he got to his parents’ house, almost midnight. He’d called on his way out of town to warn them that he was coming. One lamp glowed in the window when he pulled his truck into the driveway, letting him know that his mom had waited up for him. She sat in her favorite chair reading a book, wearing a robe, ready for bed as soon as she saw that he’d gotten in safely.

  She stood when he walked in the door and gave him a hug. “Are you hungry?”

  He hugged her back, already feeling more grounded just from the drive and the anchor his mother provided. The familiar smells of home surrounded him—fresh baked bread mixed with the lemony smell of cleaners and the scent of the fabric softener she used floating up from her clothes.

  Pulling back, he nodded. “Yeah, I could eat.”

  She smiled up at him and headed into the kitchen, pulling out the rolls she must have baked that evening. “It’s a good thing I was making stew for dinner tonight. I always make a big batch and freeze half so your father and I can have it again later. But when you said you were coming I left it in the fridge.”

  Matt sat at the dining room table, happy to let his mom fuss over him a little. He hadn’t been home since Thanksgiving, and it was nice to have someone just take care of him. After she’d warmed up his food in the microwave she set it next to him, running her hand over his hair and down to his back in a show of maternal affection. He looked up into her face and noticed her concerned eyes.

  “Is everything alright, Matt? It’s not like you to just up and drive across the state like this. Are you in trouble?”

  Swallowing down the first bite of stew, he shook his head, giving his mom a reassuring smile. “No, Mom. I’m not in trouble. I just needed to get away and clear my head a little. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.”

  She nodded, covering a yawn. “Okay. Well, it’s late for me, so I’m going to bed.” She dropped a kiss on the top of his head. “Goodnight. See you in the morning.”

  “Night, Mom.”

  The next morning Matt woke up early, eager to get out on the water. That was the real reason he’d come. He planned on discussing everything with his parents, too, but first he needed to get his own head straight.

  March was a little iffy for surfing in Westport, but the weather was cooperating this weekend, thank God. After checking the surf report, grabbing a quick breakfast, and his longboard and wetsuit, he headed for the Jetties, not wanting to have to pay the fee to get into the state park today.

  He sucked in his breath when he got in the water, the cold permeating his wet suit. It was just warm enough out today that he didn’t go for the dry suit, but it had been so long since he’d spent much time in the ocean that he regretted that decision. Not enough to get out and go home to change, though.

  Paddling out, he used the cold to focus his mind and spur him on, glad that there weren’t too many people out competing for the available waves. It wasn’t great surfing, but it felt so good to be on a board again, one with his body, fully present, moving with the flow of the ocean. The only other time he’d felt like this recently, this feeling of completely inhabiting his body instead of living mostly in his head, was when he’d been wrapped up in Hannah. She did this to him, gave this to him, and he didn’t even think she realized how necessary this feeling was to his sanity, how necessary she was to his sanity. He needed it like he needed air.

  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 was stuck living 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 was why everything had gotten so fucked 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. Maybe Hannah was onto something with her suggestion that he put together corporate travel packages for executives, taking them to fabulous surf spots. 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 was good enough for the local surf shops to give him a job teaching. This last summer was the first time in years he hadn’t come home for the summer, opting instead 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 work at the surf shop, and on a few weekends when they had more students than they could handle and taught some Saturday groups.

  He’d have to run some numbers, research what it would cost to go different places along the Pacific coast, and figure out where and how to potentially 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 probably not only be willing to invest in Matt’
s fledgling company, but he’d probably get together a group of friends to use his services once his first football season was over. 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 figured out. Once he had that plan in place, he’d figure out 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 was determined to get over him once and for all, and did everything possible to avoid seeing him at work or thinking about him any other time. 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 allowing herself to masturbate to relieve the pressure, and threw herself into some homework or an ongoing project for work.

  Since Matt was no longer managing the interns, it was pretty easy to avoid him there. She rarely left the marketing department, and she imagined he was busy with whatever grunt work Janine had him working on as punishment. She resolutely 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.