Mac Meyers Needs Me (Tilton University #2)

Chapter 1

FEE

“Should we place bets on how long it takes Meyers to get back here?” Gage Steele leans back until he’s balanced on the legs of his chair. He, like Mac, plays for the Tilton U hockey team.

“One of these days your balance will fail you and you’ll end up breaking the chair and your head.” Brody Stiles, his teammate and roommate, shuffles his cards around and avoids making eye contact with anyone at the table. It means he has a good hand. I know all his tells.

Gage ignores Brody. “I put twenty on twenty minutes.”

“I put twenty on less than two.” I do the wave with my eyebrows—it’s one of my many skills—then toss over my shoulder, “Mac, if you’re not back here in thirty seconds I’ll play the top card in your hand, regardless of what it is!”

“Don’t you dare!” Mac Meyers, roommate to Brody and Gage, and my secret crush, shouts.

“Then stop flirting and get your ass back in your seat and play your hand, Meyers,” Chase Lovett, boyfriend to my bestie Cammie, friend and teammate to the guys, and my current favorite of the group, adds.

Cammie rolls her eyes, Enid tries not to look at Brody—she always tries not to look at Brody—and Tally raps her nails on the table while smirking in my direction. I pretend not to notice.

“Puttin’ the Hammer down, eh, Forrest-Hammer.” Mac slides into the chair next to mine.

I immediately want to die every single death because one, that was such a dad joke, but still manages to be cute coming out of his sexy, full-lipped mouth, and two, he just last-named me. Like I’m one of his teammates. Like we’re buddies.

Because we are. Friends. Pals. Buds. It’s the worst. My ego shrivels into a sad raisin.

“Some of us want to finish the game before the next millennium is over,” Enid offers for me.

“I didn’t want to be rude.” He consults his cards. “Look at you with the queen, Fee.” He tosses a king on the table. “But I can do better.”

“And I can do even better.” Chase drops an ace.

Gage huffs. Brody frowns. Tally’s gaze catches on something behind us.

Two seconds later a girl drops into Mac’s lap.

I immediately wish that Mac was less inviting.

“Macky! I knew I’d find you playing cards!”

Mac smiles his panty-melting smile at her. “Hey, Kelsey. When did you get here?”

Ugh. He even knows her name.

“Just like, ten minutes ago. How long will you be playing cards?”

“Depends on how many interruptions there are,” Gage grumbles.

I say nothing. I wish I had the guts to drop into Mac’s lap like that. I wish more that he would pull me into his lap and keep me there, and also tell me that my crush is reciprocated.

This is how it always is with Mac. He flirts with literally everyone.

It doesn’t matter who it is, or if he’s even remotely interested.

Kelsey isn’t the first girl to interrupt this game, and she likely won’t be the last. I can’t even blame her for the inconvenience or the slight discomfort that comes from her using him as a chair.

Because when Mac Meyers’ attention is focused on you, it makes you feel like you’re the most important person in the world.

Like everything you have to say is the most riveting, intellectual topic and all he wants is more.

No one at the table is immune to Mac’s charms. Even Chase, Gage, and Brody succumb to his wide smile, and the dimple in his right cheek, and the smooth way he operates.

Mac ignores Gage, his warm smile still aimed at Kelsey. “Why don’t I come find you when we’re done here?”

“Sure. Cool. I’ll probably be in the living room with some of the girls from cheer.”

“I’ll see you in a bit, then.”

“Okay!” She kisses him on the cheek, waves to the rest of the group, and flounces off.

“Okay, where were we?” Mac consults his cards again.

I pull a tissue from my pocket and hold it out to Mac.

“What’s that for?”

His fingers brush mine, sending a jolt of warmth traveling up my arm.

What would happen to my body if I actually summoned the nerve to sit in his lap?

I’d probably combust. Or melt. I picture myself reduced to a puddle on the floor at his feet, the only remaining features my eyes, nose and mouth.

“Kelsey left some glitter gloss on your cheek.”

“Oh, thanks.” He swipes at it, but the gloss remains. “Am I good?”

I shake my head. “It’s still there.”

“Help me out, Fee?” He bats his pretty lashes at me and angles his cheek toward me.

My nether regions get inappropriately excited.

I reclaim the tissue and our fingers connect briefly again.

I prepare for an onslaught as I angle his face with two fingers and rub at the spot on his cheek.

I’m touching Mac and he’s letting me, but not for any of the reasons I would like.

Still, I bask in the warmth of his skin, of the heady scent of his cologne, of the light stubble against my fingertips as I linger in his personal space.

By the time I’m done, he has a red spot on his cheek and I’m pretty sure my whole face is the same color.

Enid, Tally, and Cammie are all smiling into their cards and the guys are all staring as I pull myself out of Mac’s orbit.

“Thanks, Fee. You’re the best.”

“No problem.” I chug my cola and hiccup when the bubbles hit too hard.

“Have you hooked up with Kelsey before?” Gage asks.

Mac gives him a look. “No, dude. We have a class together.”

“Does she sit in your lap during class?” Brody plays an ace.

Mac flips his middle finger up and blows Brody a kiss.

“It’s a legit question. I’ve never seen anyone play chair better than you,” Gage needles.

“She’s just being friendly,” Mac says defensively.

“By that logic, I should sit in your lap every time I say hi to you, Mac.” Cammie side-eyes Chase.

He stiffens beside her.

“I’m making a point.” She pats his arm.

“You could make it differently,” Chase grumbles.

“I rest my case.” Cammie grins.

Enid coughs into her drink.

Tally and Brody snicker.

“I thought you all wanted to play the game. Why are you giving me such a hard time? It’s not my fault I’m a nice guy,” Mac replies.

“You’re right,” I agree. “It’s not your fault you’re a nice guy.”

“See? Fee is on my side.” He holds out his closed fist.

I give him a bump, because I can’t leave him hanging, and he can’t know that I’m crying on the inside.

“She’s also looking at your cards,” Gage offers.

Mac folds his hands protectively around them and tsks. “Bad girl.”

The table goes silent for a beat until Cammie cough-chokes on her drink.

I’ll be your bad girl any time I think, but don’t say.

The thing about Mac is that no girl has ever confirmed sleeping with him or doing anything beyond kissing. Anyone he’s ever dated—however briefly—has remained suspiciously quiet about what does or doesn’t happen behind closed doors.

Which obviously just adds to the mystery that is Mac Meyers.

Tilton Hockey star. Epically hot, and literally the nicest guy I know.

It’s better that we’re buds. I have no interest (mostly) in dating someone inside my friend group.

Besides, he’s in his final year and I’m in my third.

It’s a terrible idea to get involved, especially with someone who might end up on the other side of the country next year if he secures a pro hockey contract, or even if he plays for a farm team.

Chase and Cammie might be couple goals, but the chance that more than one of us in our friend group could end up in a lasting relationship is tragically low. Better to stay friends than make things awkward when someone decides it’s not the right fit.

Half an hour and two more interruptions later, we end the game. I have an early class and can’t afford to be tired. I excuse myself to the bathroom before we leave, and when I come back, Mac’s hands are on his hips and his dimple is tucked away behind a frown.

“What’s going on?”

“My hoodie is gone!”

“You were literally just wearing it.” I would’ve noticed if he wasn’t because his forearms are an absolute delight.

“I hung it on the newel post. I was going to take it to my room after I said bye to you guys.” He motions to the empty post with both hands. “But it vanished.”

“That’s like what, the fifth one?” Brody’s lip twitches.

The sixth. At least that I know of.

“I don’t know, but that one was my favorite!”

“That’s what you get for being everyone’s number-one fantasy,” Chase teases.

“It’s not funny, man. I love that hoodie. I’ve had it since high school. It’s irreplaceable.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry, Mac.” I mean it, too. I would hate to lose my favorite hoodie.

My parents bought us all matching ones on our last vacation together.

I try to only wear it at home, and only once a week to preserve it.

I’ve already had to perform light surgery on the right cuff.

Callie’s grown out of hers, so she has our mom’s now, and I have our dad’s.

For a while they smelled like them, but that’s faded, and now they’re just a reminder of what we had and lost.

“It’s not your fault.” He reaches for me and I brace for impact.

This is my favorite part of the night. Mac is a great hugger.

His arms circle my waist and mine link behind his neck.

He lifts me off my feet. I can’t help it; I giggle and then he squeezes and it turns into a wheeze reminiscent to a squeaky toy.

I huff his aftershave for a second and imagine what it would be like if he didn’t let me go.

If he held me like this all night long, preferably shirtless.

And then he sets me back on my feet and pats my back, not quite like I’m one of his bros, but still. Then he hugs Enid, and Cammie, and chest bumps Chase, so the special feeling melts away like a snowfall in April.

I remind myself that it’s better this way. I’d rather have a solid friend group than a boyfriend who could break my heart.