Convenient Fall (Players of Marycliff University Book 2) (18 page)

He forced his brain to grind out some kind of answer. “I’ll think about it.”

Coach nodded once. “Good. Do that. Tell me which Combine you plan on registering for by our last game.”

Chris's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything in the face of Coach's stare. Instead, he nodded. “Okay.”

Coach waved a hand toward the door indicating his dismissal and turned back to the papers he'd stuffed in a folder. Chris collected his bag and headed out, his mind churning with thoughts of the future.
 

* * *

“Charlie? This is unexpected.” Megan slid a few more things into her bag, packing up to leave the tutoring center. She'd just finished with her last appointment when her phone rang and flashed her brother's name and the picture she’d taken of him last Christmas when they'd all been home.

“Hey, Megan.” His baritone voice carried over her phone, and she could tell he was smiling just from the way he said her name.
 

She smiled back. “What's up? Did someone die? You never call me.” Her tone was half-joking but a niggle of worry squirmed in the back of her mind. They only called each other on their birthdays and major holidays. Since it was November 4, it was neither of those things.

Charlie laughed. “No, everything's fine. A guy can't call his little sister without having a death notification these days?”

“Ha. No. It's just unusual for you to call me out of the blue. How's it going? How's school?” Charlie was at Seattle Pacific University. A year ahead of Megan in school, he would graduate at the end of May.

“Good. Just jumping through all the hoops so I can finish this year. You know how it goes.”

Megan pinched her phone between her head and shoulder as she finished gathering her things to head out. “Yeah. I'm not quite there yet. Next year, though.”

“Yeah. So've you given any thought to getting your teaching certificate?”

Switching the phone to her left hand, she grabbed her bag and slung it over her right shoulder, heading for the door. “What? No. Why would I do that?”

Silence greeted her question. Finally, with a sigh, “No, I guess not. Why get something you know you could make money with?”

“Seriously, Charlie? You called to lecture me about my life choices? I get enough of that from Mom and Dad.” She stopped in the hallway, halfway to the door, frustration tensing her muscles. Her brothers didn't understand her much more than her parents did, though they were usually more tolerant. They were both good little boys that toed the line, Logan, the oldest, had gone to law school and Charlie, fun-loving Charlie, became serious and studious, majoring in theology, with plans of getting his Master of Divinity next. Their parents were so proud of their sons. She was the black sheep, and they constantly tried to bring her back into the fold.

Charlie's sigh carried through the phone. “I just care about you, Megan. I want you to be able to support yourself once you graduate. I just don't think—”

“Yeah, that's the problem.” God, she was tired of getting lectured about this. “You don't think. You don't think I can succeed as an artist. You don't think I should blow off Mom and Dad so much. You don't think that I know what I want and have what it takes to get it. You don't think about me.” Charlie's disappointment with her was the hardest to take. They'd been so close when they were kids, but had started to grow apart in high school once she began to take her art more seriously. When he'd left to go to college their relationship had fractured further to the strained truce they currently operated under where they saw each other at their parents' house when they both happened to be there and talked on the phone for a few minutes a few times a year.

“Megan, come on.”

“No, you come on. Look, I know you don't agree with all of my choices. And that's fine. You don't have to. I don't agree with all of yours, either. But I at least respect your right to make those choices and don't try to pressure you to be different. The least you could do is extend the same courtesy to me.”

Charlie blew out another long breath. “You're right. I'm sorry.” A few moments passed in silence. Megan wasn't sure what to say, so she didn't say anything. She still didn't know why Charlie had really called. It was a busy week, with two papers due and a major test on Friday, not to mention her ongoing projects for figure drawing and painting. All she wanted was to get off the phone and get home so she could relax for a little while and get started on her homework.
 

She walked the rest of the way toward the door. The oppressive clouds from earlier in the afternoon had opened up and now it was pouring. Cold and dark and raining like Niagara Falls. “Shit.”

“Megan!” Oops, she was still on the phone with her theology-student brother who never cursed.
 

“Sorry, Charlie. It's pouring out and I have to walk halfway across campus to get to my car to go home.”

“At least you have your car today. Don't you usually walk?”

Megan shifted her feet. “Um, didn't Mom and Dad tell you? I moved. I don't live close enough to walk anymore.”

“Oh, yeah. Well, do you have an umbrella?”

“No. I didn't bring it today.” She let out a long sigh. “Look, I need to go. I don't want to walk through pouring rain on the phone. Did you need to talk to me about something? And if it's an in-depth discussion, can I call you back later?”

Charlie let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, right. Like you'd actually call me back.”

“Charlie, I really don’t—”

“No, it's fine. I get it.” It was Charlie's turn to interrupt this time. “I was calling to see if you’re going to come home for Thanksgiving.”

Megan froze, one hand still on the push bar of the door. “Uh, I hadn't really thought about it. I might be going home with a friend.”

“With Abby?”

Megan snorted. “No. Come on, Charlie. You know what her mom's like. That Thanksgiving would be worse than one at our house.”

“Be nice. Anyway, what friend?”

“Just, y'know. A friend.” She was stalling, and doing a terrible job of it. She didn't want to promise to go home, but she hadn't gotten an invite elsewhere yet. It hadn't come up at home, but she was hoping that Chris might invite her to go with him. If he did, that would put some of her doubts to rest. But she didn't want to bring it up. He needed to do it unprompted or it wouldn't mean as much.
 

“Does this friend happen to be male?” Charlie's voice was overly casual. Megan snorted at his attempt to find out more without trying to be obvious about his insane curiosity.

Megan decided that ignoring the question was the best plan. “I’ll think about coming home if I don't get invited elsewhere. I gotta go, Charlie.”

“Okay. I know Mom and Dad would really like it if you came.”

“I’ll think about it. That's the best I can give you right now.”

“Fine. I'll talk to you later.”

“Okay, sure. Bye.” Megan ended the call and stared out the glass doors. The rain hadn't let up at all during the few minutes on the phone with Charlie. She'd hoped it would, but with her luck right now, it wasn't surprising. Busy, crappy week. Unpleasant phone call with her brother that she used to be close to. And a command to come home for Thanksgiving.
 

It had been issued as an invitation, but she harbored no illusions about the true nature of it. She was sure her parents had put him up to that, hoping that her brother would be able to have more influence over her than they did. He didn’t. It was hard to maintain a close relationship with someone who disapproved of your every decision, whether that was her parents or her brothers.
 

And now Charlie suspected she had a boyfriend. She didn't even know what to do with that, because she wasn't sure where her relationship with Chris stood. That was why it was easier to just dodge Charlie's questions and get off the phone as quickly as possible. More things to think about and figure out. She wouldn't figure it out standing in the entryway of the tutoring center hoping it would stop pouring. Like everything else, she'd just have to suck it up, put her head down, and get through it.

With that thought, she zipped her jacket up as far as it would go, pushed the door open and made her way to her car as fast as she could with her head down and arms crossed, trying to protect herself as much as possible from the rain and the cold raging outside.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Laughter from the kitchen caused Chris to get off the couch to see what had Matt cracking up.

Matt was almost doubled over, pointing at Megan. “You look like a drowned rat!”

Megan stepped closer to Matt and punched him in the arm before she calmly took off her shoes. Matt was right, though. Her hair was plastered to her face, and he could see where it had dripped all down her neck, making the collar of her t-shirt wet. Her jacket, which was now draped over the back of a kitchen chair to dry, had protected her torso from the worst of the downpour, but couldn't stop the water that drained directly down her neck. Her jeans were soaked through.

Chris crossed his arms and propped his shoulder against the doorway, not saying anything. Matt continued to laugh and Megan glared at him, flipping him off before turning to see Chris blocking her exit.

“Hey.” Her voice didn't give anything away. Chris had expected her to sound more pissed off, at least from the way she'd punched Matt and flipped him off. Not that he could blame her. Matt was still chuckling and shaking his head as he went back to making dinner. Instead, she sounded calm, controlled. It was odd. Megan was many things, but controlled was rarely one of them, at least in his experience. She felt things strongly and had no qualms about sharing her opinions and feelings with others, especially with him and Matt.
 

“Hey.” Chris straightened up and held out a hand to her. “Let's get you warm and dry.”

She stared at his outstretched hand for a moment, then her eyes flicked to his face, searching. Finally, she cracked a little smile and took his hand. “Sounds good. Thanks.”

He led her to their bedroom, leaving her for a moment while he turned on the shower for her. When he went back out to the bedroom, she still stood in the middle of the room where he'd left her. She looked almost lost. Her head was down and the part of her hair not plastered to her face had swung forward, hiding her expression.
 

He reached out and touched her shoulder. “Hey. I got the shower started for you. Want help undressing?” He gave her a suggestive wink. She laughed, which made him let out his breath in relief. He'd never seen Megan act like this before, and her laughter made him think she was alright after all.

“Help undressing? The shower's too small. You know you can't fit in there with me.” Her eyes twinkled back at him, and he gathered her in his arms, uncaring if she got him damp. She rested her head against his chest for a moment before she pulled back, her brows drawn together in consternation. “I left a wet spot.”

He shrugged. “It's okay.”

She smiled and took a step back, pulling her shirt over her head and tossing it toward the hamper. Her bra followed behind it. She struggled a little more getting her jeans off, the wet denim sticking to her legs. “God, I'm soaked to the skin.” She pulled off her panties, tossed them behind her, and headed into the bathroom.

Chris followed her in. She turned just before she stepped into the shower stall and arched an eyebrow at him, a small smile playing over her lips. He grinned back and enjoyed imagining what might be going through her head.
 

It would be fun to join her in there, but she was right, they wouldn't both fit comfortably. And if he got in, he'd block the water from reaching her, making her cold, and the point of this shower was for her to warm up. Him getting in the way was the last thing she needed. He wouldn't object to helping her finish warming up afterward, though.

The wet spot in the middle of his chest from where she'd rested her wet hair was kind of annoying, so he stripped off the t-shirt. It made it more comfortable to stay in the humid bathroom while the shower filled the tiny room with steam. He sat on the lid of the toilet while Megan showered.
 

He waited a few minutes until he figured the worst of the cold was burned out of her by the hot water. “So what's wrong?”

He'd spoken quietly, but the way she stilled made it clear she'd heard him. She stayed frozen for a moment before she resumed running her hands through her hair under the water. “Nothing. What do you mean?”

He quirked an eyebrow, even though she wouldn't be able to see it through the foggy plastic of the shower stall. “You acted like you were pissed at Matt for laughing at you, but then you didn't seem pissed when you saw me. You seemed … wary, like you were hiding something. So, what is it? What's wrong?”

She didn't freeze this time, but she still took her time answering. “Nothing. I'm just tired. It was a long day and then it was pouring when I left the tutoring center. I had to walk all the way across campus in that and I got really wet. It was just a sucky end to a sucky day.”

He nodded. “That makes sense.” She didn't respond. “Why was today so sucky?”

She stilled again. Not as long as before, but he still caught it. “No particular reason. Just one of those days, y'know?”