Convenient Fall (Players of Marycliff University Book 2) (3 page)

“I’m late getting started. I have to catch up.” She took the cup from him and took a long drink.
 

“Well, why don't you stay right here, and I'll help you.” He gestured to a bar stool across from him. “I’m Cooper.”

“Megan.” She slid into the seat, leaning over the bar and drinking some more. It was strong, almost half Jack. Just the way she liked it. She'd seen the cans of Rolling Rock around. It was a popular party beer, but she wasn't a fan. She was snobby about her beer anyway. Hopefully the guys kept good beer in the house.
 

Cooper mixed himself a drink and apparently decided to give up bartender duties, because he pulled a stool close to hers and sat down. They chatted, and Megan started to enjoy herself more, the warm feeling from the alcohol spreading through her letting her relax. After she’d drained the last of her drink, she slammed the cup down on the counter and grabbed Cooper by the hand. “Let's dance.”

He didn't resist, just followed behind her until they were in the small open area where people were dancing. He slid in behind her, one hand on her hip, and moved with her to the beat. They danced together for a couple of songs, then he vanished. Megan stopped dancing and looked behind her, at a loss. She’d thought they were having a nice time. He'd had his hands on her hips and stroking around her waist not that long ago. Now he was nowhere to be seen.
 

Matt approached with a drink in each hand. “Thirsty?” He held out a cup to her. She frowned up at him, but decided that another drink sounded good. It was another Jack and Coke, nice and strong, just the way she liked it. She moved off the dance floor, hanging with Matt for a while, drinking and chatting. More people joined them, team members and the girls hanging around them. Some of them were girlfriends, some of them were just football player groupies. She'd heard the guys refer to them as jersey chasers, which made her wonder how she was categorized. She wasn't a girlfriend, but she definitely wasn't a jersey chaser. Not that she'd necessarily turn down any of the hot guys that she got to ogle today, but she wasn't here just to try to get banged by a football player. She was the female roommate of two of the seniors on the team. That apparently put her in a category all her own.

After she finished her drink someone else asked her to dance. Again, after a few songs, he was gone. When she stopped to look around, Chris raised his drink at her and lifted an eyebrow. She nodded. She definitely needed to get more drunk if she couldn’t keep a guy dancing with her for more than two or three songs.
 

Chris met her on her way off the dance floor with another drink, handing it to her, watching her take a long drink. “Having fun?” His eyes glittered with some unreadable emotion.
 

She gave him a quizzical look. “Um, yeah. Or I would be if my dance partners didn't keep bailing.”
 

Chris just gave a “hmm,” in response and buried his face in his cup. Megan couldn't figure out what his deal was tonight. He kept acting strangely. Like he was annoyed with her or something. But he'd been the one to invite her, and when they were in the pool, he hadn't seemed to be bothered by her being there. If he didn't seem so annoyed the rest of the time, she'd think he was attracted to her by the way he insisted she partner with him for the chicken fight, the way he ran his hands over her thighs while she sat perched on his shoulders, and the way he held her against him when he let her down at the end. But he'd been distant since then and was giving her weird looks now. He wasn't even keeping up the easy flirtation they'd started over the summer. She had no idea what she could've done to irritate him. Maybe he felt like her being at the party was cramping his style? Then why did he invite her in the first place? She could've gone to another party by herself, or just stayed home and unpacked and gone to bed early.
 

“Wanna dance?” Chris's low voice near her ear sent shivers down her spine and pulled her out of her thoughts. She looked up at his face, gauging his sincerity.
 

“Sure.”
 

He led her by the hand back onto the dance floor. He was still shirtless, his shorts hanging low off his hips, giving her a full view of his defined muscles. The football team had been training and practicing for weeks now, and he was at peak condition. With one hand around her back, he pulled her close, and she could feel the heat he threw off. His smell, a spicy mix of cologne and him, filled her nose. She looked up at his face and his lips curved up in a small smile, his eyes darkening.
 

Megan's lips parted, her breath coming a little faster at the undisguised desire on Chris's face. She could feel him hardening against her belly where he held her pressed against him.

This time she saw it when Matt pulled Chris away from her. He tapped Chris on the shoulder, and Chris turned, the look on his face morphing to annoyance. He let go of her to face Matt and pushed her behind him. She took a step to the side and watched, surrounded by gyrating bodies, unable to hear them over the music. Matt had an unreadable look on his face. He leaned in, said something close to Chris's ear, and shook his head. Chris's shoulders slumped, he cast a glance over his shoulder at her, his eyes hard, and walked away in the direction of the kitchen.
 

She watched Chris walk away before turning to Matt. “What was that about?”

He looked down at her and hitched up one side of his mouth in a crooked smile. “Nothin'. Another drink?”

His face didn’t give anything away. She agreed with a shrug, and they made their way back to the kitchen. Chris was nowhere to be found, which seemed strange to her since he’d headed this way. Matt stayed with her at the bar until she wandered off in search of a more comfortable place to sit. She found a spot on a couch in the living room. The house had an open floor plan, so she could see into the kitchen as well as out the open patio doors to the pool area. The party was in full swing around her. People were drinking, dancing, making out, having fun.
 

She wasn't having fun anymore. Her dance partners kept disappearing, and after the way Chris and Matt kept showing up with drinks just as she found herself alone combined with their little performance on the dance floor, she had the sneaking suspicion they were responsible for that. She couldn't figure out what Chris's deal was. He acted like he wanted her, but then he kept shutting down. It was probably for the best that way. She just wished he wouldn't go to the trouble of making her seem off-limits to everyone else if he wasn't going to follow through.

She looked up and saw Chris across the room, a redhead hanging off him, her hands all over his arms and chest. Not long after that it looked like they were having a competition to see whose tongue could go further down the other's throat. She tore her eyes away, not wanting to see any more of that.

* * *

Chris pulled away from the redhead—Brianna?—who'd just given him a taste of what she'd been drinking. Something sweet and fruity from what he could tell. She ran a hand up his chest. “Should we find an empty bedroom?”

He looked toward the living room just in time to see Megan turn her head away from his direction. Damn. Any thought he had of getting laid tonight vanished. He shook his head, taking the girl's hands off his chest. “Thanks for the offer, but not tonight.”

She turned her head to follow the direction of his gaze. She snorted. “Have fun with that.” Chris turned his gaze to her, hearing the bite in her tone. He didn't like it when girls got catty, especially over him. It's not like he was trying to find a girlfriend by sleeping with some random chick at a party. He never even remembered their names once he was done, sometimes before he even got started. What was the point of acting jealous and possessive of a one-night stand?

“On second thought, not ever.” He dropped her hands and went into the kitchen. He needed another drink. These pool parties were usually fun. It was a great way for the team to blow off steam together before the season started. They were done with two-a-day practices since classes started on Monday and their first game was next weekend. The next few months were busy, with only one Saturday off between now and Thanksgiving. The annual pool party before classes started cemented the bond the team formed during the preseason practices and got them game-ready. But Chris wasn't feeling it this year.
 

Matt found him at the bar, downing a few more shots. He wore a frown. “I thought you were the DD tonight, man.”

Chris knocked back another shot of tequila and shrugged. “Plans change.”

Matt crossed his arms. “Don't you think you ought to tell the other potential drivers if you need to change plans?”

“Fuck off, Schwartz. You've been in my face enough tonight. You can sober up enough to drive in an hour or two if you stop drinking now.” He gestured toward the living room. “Or tell Megan to stop drinking so she can drive.” He poured himself another shot and drank it in one swallow, barely feeling the burn of the liquor anymore. Normally when he'd had this many shots he had a nice buzz going and a warm feeling of contentment centered in his chest. Now he was just pissed. In more ways than one. He was angry and drunk and the alcohol wasn't doing anything to make him feel better.

He raised his eyes to Matt's face. Matt made a sound of disgust and headed for the living room. Chris figured he was going to talk to Megan, but he didn't care to watch. The two of them seemed closer than he liked. He didn't see her giving Matt the same searching or wary looks she shot at him. And Matt had been touching her off and on all night long. Way more than he had. He'd only touched her under the guise of playing a game, and then for the one time they’d danced together before Matt interrupted them.
 

The more he thought about it, the more pissed off he became. At Matt. At Megan. At the whole fucking situation. And he wasn't even going to be able to get laid, because he kept seeing the look on Megan's face when he'd looked up from kissing that other chick. It was a mixture of hurt and disgust.

Fuck that. What right did she have to be hurt or disgusted? He was a man. He had needs. This was a party. She hadn't been disgusted when she'd been dancing with his teammates and they'd had their hands all over her ass. What right did she have to be disgusted with him? They'd just been kissing. It wasn't like he was fucking her against the wall in front of everyone. Which sometimes happened at these parties. Not that he would do that. He wasn't an exhibitionist. But other guys didn't seem to care if anyone saw them.

He'd been planning on getting laid tonight. He didn't want the redhead anymore. She seemed like she could turn into a clingy bitch, and that was the last thing he needed. Someone else, though. There was always a whole crowd of jersey chasers at these things. Surely he could find one to take care of him for tonight.

CHAPTER THREE

A shaft of light from the split in the curtains fell across Megan's face. She groaned and rolled over, her head pounding. The familiar roiling in her stomach had her lurching out of bed and stumbling into the bathroom, where she heaved up whatever was left in her stomach.
 

She sank onto the floor in the unfamiliar bathroom. A wan smile crossed her face.
Breaking in the new digs.
She was christening her new bathroom with her first hangover. It had taken much longer to do this in the apartment she'd shared with Abby. She'd always felt a little bad about leaving Abby at home by herself when they'd lived together. Partly because she'd felt like she was abandoning Abby, despite Abby's protestations that she liked staying home and reading or watching a movie or whatever it was she did while Megan was out partying. Partly because she'd always thought Abby needed to break out of her shell a little more.
 

And she'd been right. Except it had been a guy that had done what she'd begun to think was impossible. Megan felt justified in taking some credit. She was the one that had dragged Abby to the party where she'd met Lance. And she'd helped push them together a little bit along the way, encouraging Abby to give Lance a chance, even when Abby kept insisting it couldn't be anything serious. The best part had been organizing their reunion. When Lance had called her to get her help, she'd jumped up and down and had to avoid Abby for hours afterward so Abby didn't think she was crazy because she couldn't stop smiling.
 

She was so happy for Abby. Sad for herself since she wasn't living with her best friend anymore, but happy for her friend to find someone that cared about her and wasn't afraid to show it. Who wouldn't be easily pushed away and wouldn't bail like the other men in Abby's life had.
 

Thinking about Abby and Lance had her feeling so happy that she forgot for a second that she had a splitting headache. She got up off the floor. And immediately regretted it when the room spun and her head felt like it was filled with cement. She let out a groan with a hand on her forehead, her pulse pounding in her temples.
 

A soft knock sounded at her bedroom door. “Megan? Can I come in?” It was Matt.

She stumbled to the door, opened it wide enough to lean in the opening, and gave him her signature hangover death glare. He grinned down at her and held up a glass of water. “I have water and ibuprofen. I thought you could use it.”

Megan eased up on the death glare and opened the door further so she could take the water and painkillers. She eyed him over the top of her cup after throwing the pills in her mouth. His blond hair was messy, but that wasn't unusual. He didn't look all that bleary eyed. She took a few swallows, making sure the pills didn't get caught in her throat. Then drank some more to get the residual vomit taste out of her mouth. “Thanks. How come you're so chipper?”