by Eva Ashwood
I was convinced at the time that I was falling in love with her, which is rare for me. Even as a junior in high school, I was pretty much used to having my way with whatever girl I wanted and then moving on. But the second I met Emma, I knew she wasn’t that type of girl. She was more than that, so fucking much more. Reese, West, and I became best friends with her in the space of about two weeks. We just fucking clicked, and we did everything together for an entire school year.
Even though I was happy when the four of us were together, I couldn’t shake the desire to have Emma for myself—to have her mind, body, and soul. I finally worked up the nerve to ask her out, and when she refused, rejecting me without more than a half-second of thought, it was like someone had torn my heart out of my chest. I’ve done everything I can to try to erase the memory of Emma Holloway from my mind. But nothing has worked.
I did some drugs, screwed some chicks, and spent my first year at Clearwater living like a fucking king.
But the honest truth is, the hole in my heart is still there.
“Looks like second year is gonna be a hell of a lot more interesting than I thought it would be.” Reese cracks a predatory smile.
“What are the odds?” West’s entire body is tense. He’s ripped as fuck, and it looks like he’s about to Hulk out.
“Must be fate.” I huff a humorless laugh.
I can’t help but be impressed that Emma even has the balls to come to the same school as us. And she had such shit grades anyhow, I can’t even figure out how she got into Clearwater U in the first place. She was a good student before we effectively tanked her GPA by torturing her mercilessly. There were dozens of days where she was late to class or missed class entirely because she was dealing with the fallout of our latest prank. And other days when I’m pretty sure she just didn’t have the strength to face us.
A twinge of guilt twists my stomach as I have a vivid memory of Emma walking into class late, her gaze darting around the room to find me and the guys.
Her gorgeous blonde hair fell around her shoulders, her wide, earnest eyes revealed more than she ever meant them to, and her high cheekbones made her look like a damn queen. She was beautiful in high school, but she’s only become more breathtaking since then—as if escaping our torture allowed her to bloom.
For a moment, I wish we could take back everything we ever did to her.
But my emotions change on a dime, like they often do when it comes to Emma, because the very next thought I have when she stands up from behind the hedge and begins to walk toward Davis Hall is that I still have a desire to punish her. I still have a need to watch Emma squirm, to make her pay for the harm she inflicted.
“Let’s do this,” I say grimly, waving for my boys to follow me.
Reese laughs. “Feels like old times.”
“I can’t believe this shit is happening,” West growls, his voice dark.
Emma is headed toward Davis Hall at a fast clip. Her head is held high, and her hands are on the straps of her backpack. She’s wearing a pair of white shorts, and her legs are more shapely than they were in high school, long and lean.
Been working out, have we?
I have to admit her body looks amazing, even though it was amazing back in high school as well. West and Reese are both pretty tall, but I’m the tallest, and I always enjoyed the feeling of towering over her petite form—which I’m about to do again with no less enjoyment than before.
“Well, well, well. Emma Holloway,” I drawl, and she jumps at the sound of my voice. It sets off every predator instinct in me, and I step smoothly in front of her, cutting off her path. “Going somewhere?”
Reese flanks me on one side and West on the other. Working together, it’s easy to block her, and from the deer-in-headlights look in Emma’s eyes, I can tell she’s intimidated by our size. Our wall of intimidation brings a pleasant familiarity with it, making me grin.
“Yes. I have to go to class.” Emma refuses to meet my gaze, looking past me at the large building beyond the quad.
I try to keep my tone as smooth and casual as possible, but I can’t seem to hide the bite in my voice. “How about having a chat with old friends before you go?”
“Been a long time,” Reese says, his lopsided grin proving he’s just as happy as I am to see her. In an extremely fucked up way.
West remains quiet, which is standard.
“I would appreciate it…” Emma begins to say, then throws back her shoulders and stands up tall. When she speaks again, her voice is hard, and her words are a demand, not a request. “Leave me alone.”
I pause for a moment and stare at her, then watch as her gaze moves up to meet mine, her chocolate eyes flashing.
“I’ll think about it,” I reply, cocking my head.
Baring her teeth, Emma steps to the right to get around our physical barrier, and without missing a beat, West steps out to prevent her. Reese laughs, and a look of fear breaks through the stony expression on her face.
“Get out of my way,” she says to West, obviously trying not to sound afraid.
“Let her go,” I finally say, jerking my chin at him.
That’s enough for one day. Or at least, one morning.
West steps out of the way and Emma walks at a feverish clip toward Davis Hall. My friends and I turn to watch her go, and the sight of her round ass swinging fast from side to side floods me with a surge of desire.
Fucking Christ. Why the hell can’t I let go of this? Of her?
I can literally have any girl I want, and Emma isn’t like those Barbie doll kinds of girls who are always gravitating toward me. Emma is natural—untouched.
That’s probably why I want her so badly.
I also have to admit that it stirs something dark in me to see Emma so vulnerable, like she was when we all stepped in front of her. She puts on a show of strength, but the truth is, she’s like a lamb awaiting the slaughter.
You never should’ve come back, Emma Holloway.
3
Emma
Walking away as fast as I can, I hustle toward Davis Hall. I don’t bother to turn around and look behind me, although I’m pretty sure the three Icons are still watching me. I remember how in high school, it was like the three of them were constantly watching my every move.
The Icons. I don’t know where that name came from—it was what everyone at Amundsen called them—but it fits. They always seem a little larger than life, as if they’re the descendants of gods or something.
As I reach the building, someone pops out from behind a pillar near the large front doors, and I nearly scream.
“Oh, my God, Emma!” Leslie says, her eyes wide with surprise. “Are you lost too?”
I put a hand over my chest, trying to contain my racing heart. Leslie is my new roommate, a computer science major who’s a freshman too. We only briefly met at orientation, and she seemed very cool and vivacious at the time. I got the sense we’ll be good roomies, but we haven’t seen each other since that first brief meeting; Leslie wasn’t around when Dad helped me move into the dorm.
“Yes, I… I am lost,” I manage to say, noticing for the first time that my throat is bone-dry.
“Good, me too.” Leslie laughs. Then she cocks her head at me, frowning. “Is everything okay?”
“I, um…” I begin to say, hoping to explain. Leslie narrows her eyes as though assessing the situation, looking back behind me to where I’m sure the guys are still standing, then back to me, then at the guys again.
God, I hope I won’t have to explain this.
“We can walk together,” she offers, maybe sensing that something is wrong but changing the subject.
“That would be great,” I blurt, relief filling me.
As we walk along slowly, I try to breathe evenly and slow down the pounding in my chest. I can’t deny that part of it is from fear—I feel like I’ve seen a fucking ghost, and in a way, I have. The ghosts of my past are crawling all over this campus.
But I’m also pissed.<
br />
I’m furious that West, Reese, and Trent are here, that on my very first day of college, they’re already tormenting me again. Coming to Clearwater U is my chance to finally start over and make something of myself. Since I have a conditional acceptance to this school, I have to get passing grades and stay out of trouble. With those three guys around, that just became a hell of a lot harder—it’s almost like trouble will be following me wherever I go.
“So did you bring shit to decorate our dorm?” Leslie asks as we walk along. I’m not only comforted by her presence, I’m also kind of in awe of her. Leslie has quirky features, but the most beautiful brown hair I’ve ever seen. It shines like melted chocolate in the sunlight. She also has one blue eye and one green eye, which I’m convinced is the sign of a seriously interesting human. She carries herself as if she’s seen some things, as if she has an innate understanding of the ways of the world, and it makes me curious to get to know her better.
“Like what?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I dunno. Like posters or something.”
“Oh. Uh, nope, I didn’t buy any posters.” I wrinkle my nose, grateful to be talking about something mundane and chill.
“I thought you’d put up something smart, like a Van Gogh painting.”
“I’m not that smart, but I do like art.” I shrug.
“You seem smart. I dunno. I barely know you.”
“I go to bed pretty early.”
“Oh, cool,” Leslie says, although she doesn’t sound too enthused by that. “Well, maybe I’ll try that. I’ll have to do my partying during the week though, because my parents want me to come home a lot on the weekends.” She holds up a hand, turning to face me as we walk. “And I’m trying to stay away from guys. At least during the semester. Who knows how long that’ll last though!”
I go silent, thinking that this girl might be the perfect roommate for me. Hell yes to “no guys.” That’s a really smart plan. But considering that Reese, West, and Trent are pretty much on me like hawks, am I going to be able to live up to that goal?
“I… I’ll try to stay away from guys too,” I finally say, even as my stomach clenches.
If Leslie and I are going to be living together, how much should I tell her? If she finds out the truth, she might run from me like I have the plague. That’s what everyone in high school did when the guys turned on me, even though it wasn’t like I’d done anything wrong. Had I?
Ugh. There’s still so much uncertainty wrapped up in my relationship with my former best friends. There’s a truckload of unresolved feelings as well, emotions so intense I don’t really know how to deal with them all.
“College is gonna be awesome. I’ve got a good feeling about this.” Leslie waggles her eyebrows at me, looking mischievous and excited.
Casting a furtive look over my shoulder, I check to see if the guys are still there. To my great relief, they’re gone. I know they’re still on campus somewhere, but for the moment, I can breathe again.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “I’ve got a good feeling about it too.”
I’m feeling better now that they’re gone, but I gotta say, the joy that infused me as I rode my bike to Clearwater U this morning is gone. I can try to pretend the three of them aren’t here, but I’ll just be fooling myself. Trent, Reese, and West seriously wrecked my chances at success once before, and I’m not entirely confident they won’t try to do it again.
But there’s something in Leslie’s eyes that gives me hope. She seems like the type of girl who hasn’t had anything seriously bad happen to her, and if something has happened, she’s managed to be tough enough to let it roll off her back.
If that’s the kind of person she really is, then I need to take a page out of her playbook. Things get to me too easily, and I take them personally. That’s why what those three former friends of mine did cut me to the bone; I took their betrayal personally. If I’m going to survive this college experience, I have to take a new perspective on them.
I have to teach myself to feel nothing for them.
It won’t be easy though. Even now, I can still feel the effects of Trent in my body. My breathing is erratic, my knees are still weak, and I feel flushed. It’s annoying that someone can have such power over your body no matter what your rational mind thinks.
I don’t have to like him—in fact, I can hate him—but it doesn’t stop some primal part of me from wanting him.
“I’m definitely late now.” I give a little shake of my head as I look up at the sign on the door that reads 110.
“It’s totally okay,” Leslie assures me. “I’m sure all the professors understand when you’re late on your first day. Tell them you got lost.”
“That’s what I was going to do,” I say with a smile. “And thanks so much for… helping me.”
I try not to give away that she saved me from Trent, West, and Reese, but there’s a look of recognition on Leslie’s face, like she’s been trying to hold off talking about it this whole time but just can’t anymore.
“Hey, who were those guys?” she finally asks.
I look over to the classroom door again. I can easily make excuses and say I have to go.
“Just old friends.” I shrug evasively. Shit. Why can’t I just say it? Why can’t I just admit what was going on? Honestly, I don’t know whether I can trust Leslie yet, and what’s more, I don’t want to push her away so soon.
“Ah.” She nods, her brows still drawn together. “I couldn’t tell if it was, like, sexual tension, or just dislike.”
“What do you—? You mean, with all three of them?” I blink.
“Uh, yeah. All three,” she replies, looking at me like it should be obvious to anyone who witnessed our exchange.
I glance down at the ground, my cheeks flushing. I barely even talked to them. I’m not surprised she could read my body language during our little encounter and figure out I dislike them, but I hate that she picked up on the insane response my body has around them—and realized that the sexual tension was with all three of them. If that isn’t mortifying, I don’t know what is.
“They’re just old friends. Some things went down.” I speak casually, trying to make it sound like no big deal. But from the look in her green and blue eyes, I can tell she’s on to me. There’s a wisdom in her eyes, even though they’re so whimsical looking, and I have a sinking feeling there isn’t going to be a whole lot I can get past her.
“I need to go,” I finally say.
“For sure. I’ll see you later, okay? Maybe we can have lunch in the quad.”
“That would be awesome.” I nod enthusiastically, thinking that some kind of distraction at lunchtime is just what I need.
As Leslie and I say goodbye, I open the door to my Applied Psychology class and say a little prayer. There’s something really ironic about trying to lie to a psych teacher, isn’t there?
“I’m sorry I’m late,” I mutter, looking over to where the teacher is standing. He’s a rather handsome guy, I have to admit, even though he is older. Is it just me, or is everyone at Clearwater University attractive?
“Ms. Holloway?” he asks, looking down at his sheet of paper.
“That’s me!” I reply with awkward enthusiasm.
“Have a seat.”
Shamefully, I look down at the paper with my room assignment to remind myself what the professor’s name is.
“Thank you… Mr. Johnson,” I finally say, seating myself. Scott Johnson is his name, and if you ask me, he’s going to be a great teacher. He looks at me warmly, thoughtfully, and suspiciously. Yep, Mr. Johnson can see right through me too. Or am I just being paranoid?
“This class will cover the basics of Applied Psychology,” Mr. Johnson continues, seeing that he has the class’s attention once again. “And we’ll examine how we can use this teaching in our everyday lives.”
As Mr. Johnson continues to expound upon the basics, it occurs to me that this class might be a blessing for me, because it will help me analyze Trent, Reese, and W
est, and the effect they have on me. But is analyzing and rationalizing enough? It’s like the power that they have over me is more physical than anything else. And not just because they’re bigger and more physically dominating than me, but because my own body betrays me when they’re around.
Can that really be rationalized in order to tame it? I’m feeling doubtful.
More importantly, can psychology help me to take control of my own life and grab that fresh start I’ve been praying for?
I open up my textbook and take out a yellow notepad, more determined than ever to make something of myself here. To do well. To show I truly do deserve a place at Clearwater U.
As the lecture continues, I hang onto Mr. Johnson’s every word as though they’re pearls. I take notes, chew on the back of my pen, and try to focus.
But all the focus in the world can’t stop my thoughts from drifting to Trent. The deep rumble of his voice seems to echo in my ear, and a shiver works its way down my spine. I picture his lips, the way they curved slightly as they taunted me, and I wonder what they would feel like against my skin.
God fucking dammit.
I grip my pen so hard I almost bend the plastic. What the hell is wrong with me? Why do these thoughts pop into my head, even when I try to banish them?
Why do I sometimes have dreams about all three of them?
It’s frustrating, it’s infuriating, and I’m afraid it’ll never stop.
A thought pops into my head, and even though I quickly try to quash it, the germ of an idea has already been planted. As much as I wish those three men were anywhere on earth besides Clearwater U, maybe fate brought us all back together for a reason.
Maybe the only way I’ll ever be able to get closure will be to face my demons, to prove they don’t have the same sway over me that they once did.
To make those three men pay for what they did to me.
It’s a stupid thought. Like I said, I can’t afford to get in trouble here, and starting a war with my three tormentors would be a one-way ticket to disaster. The smartest course of action is to stay the hell away from all three of them.