Who Breaks First: A New Adult Bully Romance (Clearwater University Book 1)

by Eva Ashwood

  “Yeah. We’re in a good place.” There’s a strange, almost soft, undertone to Trent’s voice, and when he catches Emma’s gaze once more, he holds it for a few seconds.

  Yeah, you are in a good place, aren’t you?

  I’m seriously pissed right now. I feel like punching my fist through a wall, which I’m pretty sure that I could do. The tone of the meeting abruptly changes as Reese sits up, knitting his brow in confusion as he looks at Trent. Yep, he’s figured it out too. All of a sudden, Emma is blushing, Trent is clenching his jaw because he must know what we know, and from the looks of it, both Reese and I are seeing red.

  “Okay,” Emma says awkwardly, fiddling with her hair. “Anything else to go over before we wrap this up?”

  She looks like she’s about ready to sprint out of here, and Trent looks like he can’t decide whether he wants her to stay or go.

  What the fuck happened between them? Did it change how he feels about her? Why the hell didn’t he tell us?

  But, deep down, I know why.

  The same reason I never told either of them about me and Emma either.

  Because it meant something to him. Even if he can’t admit it to himself, it meant something.

  Jesus. It’s insane to think that the other two guys still don’t know that I fucked Emma in high school. Looking at Trent, it’s so totally obvious that I can’t imagine it not being just as obvious after I hooked up with her.

  “Oh, there is one more point in the fourth paragraph that I wanted to talk about,” Emma says, obviously trying to change the subject. Reese chimes in, although his tone is pretty distant, and the two of them talk about the paragraph in question while I remain silent, staring over at Trent.

  He won’t look at me.

  So, that’s how it’s going to be, then? Out of all three of us, Trent is going to be the one that she screws first in college? The one who’s treated her the worst and made plan after plan to bring her heartache and pain? That’s the guy she hops in the sack with?

  It’s goddamn infuriating, and I don’t know why I’ve gone along with all of this bullshit up till this point. I always trust Trent, and he’s one of my best friends, but this kind of behavior is just insulting. Keep it in your pants, asshole, and stick to the plan.

  Then again, I could’ve said those exact words to myself.

  Maybe that’s why I’m so fucking pissed at Trent right now. Because he caved just like I did. Because I thought he was stronger than that. Stronger than me.

  “I think that’s all that we have to do for today,” Emma finally says.

  “Great. We’ll meet up next week,” Trent replies, and I catch the two of them looking at each other, yet again.

  My hands clench into fists, the uncontrollable desire I feel around Emma warring with a burning anger in my chest.

  As soon as she’s gone, Trent turns to me, his expression carefully neutral. “We’re headed over to Luca’s Cafe. Grab a bite.”

  Reese nods his head in acknowledgment, although he’s still looking at Trent like he’s trying to figure out what the fuck his game is. Maybe he actually thinks Trent banging Emma is all part of his master plan.

  It’s not. I know it’s not.

  “Okay,” I say shortly. “I got plans.”

  Then I walk away, heading in the opposite direction—toward where Emma disappeared.

  Yes, I’m following her. Big fucking deal. After what I just observed, I figure I can do what I want. Apparently, all bets are now off when it comes to her, and if Trent thinks that’s the game he wants to play, then fine. We can play that game.

  I’m in hunter mode, and I have my eyes firmly set on the prey. She walks toward a building on the west side of campus, but before she can make it inside, she’s intercepted by that guy—the one we saw her with at the party. Did a little research this past week and learned that his name is Peter. I haven’t seen him around her as much recently, and believe me, I’ve been watching.

  So what the fuck does he want with her now?

  I hang back around a corner and listen for a moment.

  “Where you been?” The fucker’s voice grates on my nerves.

  “Just been busy,” Emma replies evasively.

  “I miss seeing you more often. I miss you, Emma.”

  Motherfucker. I bring my head around and watch as Peter tries to put a hand on Emma’s hip, but she pulls away.

  “Why are you being so distant?” he asks, clearly frustrated.

  “I’m not being distant, I’ve just… had things to do. School’s been keeping me busy.”

  “I feel like you’re lying.” The preppy looking fuckwad gives Emma a slightly condescending stare, like he’s a teacher trying to instruct a naughty child.

  Blood roars in my ears. What the fuck?

  Yeah, Emma might drive me insane, and I might want her out of here for both our sakes—I’m not good enough for her, and I know it—but at least I can see the spark in her. I know she’s got fire inside her, and I’d never condescend to her or treat her like a damn child.

  “Why would I lie to you?” she asks, that spark flaring to life in her eyes as annoyance tinges her voice.

  “I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” A moment of silence follows that, and then I watch Peter try once more. “I miss this,” he says, leaning in for a kiss.

  Nope.

  No fucking way.

  I don’t care whether the fuck he’s trying to kiss her or not, I’m not having it. Any of it. I just want this shit to stop. I storm around the corner and stride toward Peter, grabbing him by his preppy little collared shirt and shoving him away from her. I don’t even break a fucking sweat doing it, and as Peter stumbles, trying to regain his balance, I’m nearly overwhelmed by the urge to grab his shirt again with one hand and hold him steady while I punch him until my fists are bloody.

  Sucking in a ragged breath, I force the beast inside me to stand down.

  Then I take Emma by the hand and drag her along with me, pulling her away. We make it around the corner I just came from before she digs her heels in, her shoes skidding across the cement walkway as she tries to stop me.

  She’s not strong enough to even slow me down. But I stop anyway, turning around to face her. I’m breathing heavily, my nostrils flaring with every inhale.

  “What are you doing?” Emma asks in horror, her voice higher than usual and her eyes wide.

  “Getting that piece of shit off you.”

  “He’s not a piece of shit.”

  I scoff, my lips curling. “Come on, Emma. Open your eyes.”

  She shrinks away from me, a flash of fear passing through her eyes. And that stops me. I realize that I’m absolutely filled with rage and jealousy. It’s coursing through me, and because my body has grown so much since high school, I’m almost afraid of what I’m capable of—just like Emma is.

  “I don’t understand why you’re doing this,” she whispers. “You were so quiet this afternoon.”

  I look deep into her eyes, losing myself in the rich brown. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful, and I know I never will.

  But I don’t get to have her. She was never mine.

  “You’re throwing yourself at that guy because of what’s going on with Trent,” I grit out.

  “What?” Her eyes fly wide.

  “You heard me. There’s no point in denying it.”

  “Please, West.”

  “Don’t please, West me,” I growl, the anger surging to the surface so strongly I can’t contain it. “Is that why you turned me down in high school?” I demand, my heart pounding in my chest.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t pretend you forgot. You fucking turned me down, Emma. Was it because you were in love with Trent?”

  I watch as she freezes, not knowing how to reply. There’s so much emotion and vulnerability in her eyes. It makes me want to grab her and hold her still, freeze her in time so I can stare into those mesmerizing eyes and read eve
ry little detail in them like a book.

  I want to know her deepest secrets and desires. I want to know if any of them are about me.

  I know all of mine are about her.

  “Why the fuck are you doing this, West?” Emma’s jaw clenches, and she shoves against me, pushing her hands into my pecs. I find it so amusing that a feral smile tilts my lips. Does she truly think she can push me away?

  She can’t. I’m bound to her. If it was possible to sever this tie, I would’ve done it a long time ago.

  “You know,” I grab her wrists, stopping her futile attempt to shove me off balance. “Maybe you’re only throwing yourself at that Peter guy because there’s so much frustration in your body. You gotta take it out on another guy.”

  “I’m not throwing myself at him,” she bites out.

  “Ha!” I lower my head to meet her gaze, bringing us practically nose to nose. “You’ve been dragging that guy around with you because you’re trying to make all three of us pissed.”

  Her gaze shifts sideways. “That’s not true.”

  “Don’t look away from me,” I demand, moving my head and tugging on her wrists so I stay right in her eye line.

  “You’re being such a shit, West!” she snaps.

  Her words stoke the anger inside me, and I keep my hold on her wrists. My hands are locked around her thin, dainty little wrists, keeping her from escaping, but the grip isn’t tight. As insane as she makes me, deep down, I have no real desire to hurt Emma. In fact, sometimes, I even fucking fear that I love her.

  “You don’t know how big of a shit I can be,” I finally say with a cruel smile. “Answer my question. Are you trying to make us jealous? Do you still want us?”

  Her body goes stiff.

  I don’t think she’ll answer. I expect her to try to break my hold on her again, to curse me out or try to headbutt me or knee me in the groin. I wouldn’t put it past her—this beautiful girl is fierce as fuck.

  But she does.

  And as she speaks, tears form in Emma’s eyes.

  “West, I don’t know how to talk about any of this,” she says, her voice low and thick. “What happened between you and me was… crazy and intense. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but I—I think about it all the time. And what happened between me and Trent was insane too.” Fire flashes in her eyes, and she yanks against my grip. “Goddamn you, why are you all like this? Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

  “Why can’t we leave you alone?” My eyes narrow. “You came back here, Emma. No one made you do that.”

  Her lip curls in a snarl, and when she pulls again, I finally release her wrist. She doesn’t run, and she doesn’t shove me again. But she steps toward me, rising up to her full height as if she can intimidate me.

  “No. No one made me. But I was invited here. Given a scholarship. And that could change my entire future. So I’m not leaving, West. No matter how much you all want me to. And I’m not trying to make you jealous!” she spits out.

  “No? Then why are you dating a guy you have no interest in?”

  “I’m not dating him!” she screams, tears welling in her eyes. “And you know why I went out with him in the first place? Because I just wanted to see what it would be like to be with a guy who wouldn’t break my heart!”

  My body goes still. Her eyes are still flashing, and I don’t think she has it in her to lie to me right now. She’s too fucking pissed off.

  “Emma,” I ask softly. “Why did you turn me down in high school?”

  She blinks, a single tear sliding down her cheek, but a glare still contorting her features.

  “I had feelings for all three of you in high school, you asshole. Then all three of you came to me, asking me out—asking me to choose you. What the hell was I supposed to do? I was falling in love with all three of you, in different ways. Was I supposed to pick one? Break two hearts to make one happy? I wouldn’t even be happy with that. I didn’t want to ruin what we had, the four of us. All four of us.”

  Time seems to slow down. People are still walking across campus, some slowing in their tracks to watch our very public altercation. But I don’t give a fuck about that.

  What Emma said rings true. I never knew for sure, but I always suspected it was something like that… then, of course, it stopped mattering anyway when she betrayed Trent.

  “So, you turned all three of us down?” I ask slowly.

  “Yeah. I did.”

  Emma tears her gaze away from mine, looking down. But that’s not right. I need to see her eyes. I put my hand under her chin and tilt her face up toward mine.

  “I would have treated you best, Emma,” I say, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that’s the truth.

  For a split second, tenderness and longing flash in her eyes. She’s gorgeous like this. She looked this way in the closet that day after she came, although I know she tried to hide it from me. She looks small and vulnerable and so fucking sweet, and I want so badly to kiss her—

  Then I feel her hands on my pecs again, pushing me back with all her might.

  Well, she doesn’t push me hard enough because I barely fall back on my heels, but as she stalks off, I let her go.

  My heart pounds madly in my chest as mad thoughts spiral through my head.

  I would have been the best one for Emma. Still am the best one for Emma. I’m convinced of it.

  The slightly fruity scent of her shampoo—of her—still hangs in the air, or maybe it’s clinging to my clothes where we touched. But it doesn’t matter. The scent invades my nostrils, filling me up with thoughts and feelings I shouldn’t be having.

  But I can’t stop them.

  And it finally occurs to me as I stare after Emma, gaze still glued to the place where she disappeared from view, that I don’t want to stop.

  I no longer want to get her out of my system.

  I want her to stay there.

  I want to win her back.

  And this time, I want to keep her.

  18

  Reese

  I’m lying in my room, and I’m bored as fuck.

  After what went down at the meeting today with the guys and Emma, I’ve got a funny feeling bouncing around in my chest that I don’t know how to explain. Rage? Jealousy? Probably all of it. I’m hoping my suspicions aren’t true because sadly, as much of a pussy as it might make me, it would break my heart if they were.

  I hear my phone buzz, and I pick it up to find a text from some chick I banged a few times last semester.

  JESSICA: Hey, hot stuff. What are you doing right about now?

  It’s a booty text. I always find it weird and awkward when girls send booty texts. Isn’t that what guys are supposed to do? I should text her back and take her up on her offer, just to take my mind off shit. But I find I have little interest. The only girl that I can think of is Emma.

  I actually haven’t even gotten laid since I came back to Clearwater U after the summer break. I hooked up with a girl at a bar the night before school started, but ever since I saw Emma on that first day, my sex life has dried up. I think it’s because I’m seriously lacking in interest for any other girl. I know that sounds lame, and believe me, if I could change it, I would.

  But my fucking dick isn’t having it.

  ME: Sorry, busy.

  That’s all I say. I don’t hear anything back from her, so I presume she’s taken the hint. Trent and West are both out, so instead of lying around in the house we all rent together, I decide that I might as well do something. I take my laundry basket, which is seriously filled to the brim, and I head to the laundromat.

  As I drive over to my favorite spot, I pass by a couple holding hands as they walk down the street. The guy leans over and whispers something into the girl’s ear, and she laughs, leaning into him as his arm pins her to his side. I can tell they’re going to fuck tonight. And it’s gonna be good.

  My dick twitches, and I focus back on the road, not wanting to be caught staring and looking like some jealous perv. But if I
’m being honest, that’s what I want right now. To be out with someone who’s more than just a fuck. Someone I crave in all ways.

  It’s shitty, I guess, but I’ve never had sex with anyone I feel that way about.

  When I arrive at the laundromat, I park my car on the street a few spaces down from the door, and as I’m hauling my basket up to the entrance, I look through the window and almost drop all my clothes.

  It’s Emma.

  What are the odds that Emma Holloway is in the laundromat right now?

  Pretty decent, I guess, considering that’s exactly where she is.

  I feel my heart squeeze in my chest. She looks so sweet and innocent folding laundry in a hot little sundress, completely natural and graceful. There’s no artifice with her. She doesn’t pretend. She just is.

  It’s fucked up to think that we bully her the way we do when she’s such an essentially good person. I know she hurt Trent, but I’ve started to think maybe he’s wrong for blaming her. Maybe she had a reason for what she did. Fuck, he never even gave her a chance to explain herself. And I understood his reasoning at the time. But damn, how long can her punishment last? Even convicted criminals get released once they’ve done their time.

  Sometimes, I want to just take her by the hand and lead her far away from this place, where she and I can be alone together and we can cut through all the bullshit. I want to try to make her happy—to make up for everything I ever did to make her sad.

  But every time I think that, I worry that I’ve just been blinded by my desire for her. That Trent is right, and she pulled that shit with his mom and dad on purpose, knowing full well what she was doing. She’s so beautiful, but that’s what makes her so dangerous, isn’t it? It’s hard to imagine anyone like Emma doing anything bad.

  She was always gorgeous, but she’s fucking stunning now. It’s hard to think straight around her sometimes. Even though the meeting this afternoon was super awkward, Emma still looked gorgeous in the sun. Her shoulders are slightly tanned now, and I wonder what the rest of her looks like; the skin that I can’t see. Is it still pale as ivory?