Who Falls Hardest (Clearwater University)

Honestly, I kind of hope not.

“You do deserve me,” I whisper, and Trent makes a noise low in his throat.

“No. I don’t. But I’m trying to. So I went to see your dad yesterday. I want to fix things for him and my mom, and I figured the best way to do that was to talk to the man himself.”

My eyes open a little wider as my heartbeat picks up in my chest, and Trent shakes his head.

“I didn’t tell him everything. Not because I don’t want to own up to the shit I did, but because it’s not my story to tell. But I did tell him that he didn’t have to put his own personal life aside to try to take care of you, because you have people in your corner who have your back.”

“Thank you, Trent.”

My voice is soft and low. He’s downplaying it a lot, but I know what this means. For a long time, he blamed my dad—and me—for splitting his parents up, so him actively working to get my dad and his mom back together is huge.

Then my brows pull together, and I make a face. “But wait. What does that have to do with you getting into a fight with West?”

He snorts a humorless laugh. “When I got home, West asked where I’d been, and I told him. He didn’t like me trying to paint myself as some protector. Not when he and Reese have done more to take care of you than I have.”

There’s pain in his voice, and it strikes me that even though Trent fought with West over what his friend said, he probably believed West’s words. Still believes them.

“That’s not what this is about,” I argue. “It’s not a point system. You’ve all helped me. You’ve all hurt me. And I was doing my best to hurt you too, before Leslie went psycho.”

Trent chews on his bottom lip thoughtfully, his hand sliding down to brush over the skin of my bare shoulder.

“I know. That’s what we were all missing. What you showed us last night. We were all fighting over who gets to protect you, who gets to look out for you and take care of you. But we all missed the obvious fact that if all three of us do it, that’s better than it being any one of us. We’re stronger together. We’ve known that for a long time, but we forgot it when it came to the most important thing. You.”

“We don’t plan on forgetting again,” West murmurs from behind me. He must’ve woken up sometime while Trent was speaking. He pulses his hips against my ass, making me unconsciously grind against him. “And we don’t plan to let you forget either.”

Turning my head slightly, I meet West’s cloud-gray eyes, feeling a smile tug at my lips.

“I don’t think I could even if I wanted to,” I tell him. “And I never want to.”

“Good.” Reese’s head pops up behind Trent’s shoulder. His brown hair is sticking up a little on one side, and he looks sleep-rumpled and sexy as fuck. “Because you’re stuck with all of us now, Ems. There’s no

way you’re getting rid of us after last night.”

“Agreed.” Trent pulls me toward him and presses a hard, fast kiss to my lips. “And the first thing we’re gonna do is kick that bitch Leslie to the curb.”

16

Emma

Despite the urgency of Trent’s declaration, the four of us take our time getting up.

I sort of expect the guys to all slink back to their rooms to get dressed, or drag the sheets with them to cover themselves when we finally stumble out of bed—but none of them seem embarrassed about their nudity at all.

Maybe I should’ve known it would be like this. After all, none of them have anything to be ashamed of. They’re all fucking built, and none of them are lacking in the size department. And I guess after the things we all did last night, it’s a little late for any of us to get shy.

I gotta admit, I don’t hate it. The sight of West, Reese, and Trent all sliding out of bed in their naked glory is enough to make my still sore pussy throb with need.

But once we’re all showered and dressed, Trent slips into serious mode. As Reese cooks eggs on the stove and we all sip coffee, Trent talks us through exactly what happened yesterday, detailing every minute of his conversation with Leslie.

“God, so she really did do all this just because she wanted to come between us?” I ask, wrinkling my nose in disgust as I blow on my coffee.

“Yeah.” Trent’s hand clenches into a fist on the table. “And when she realized it wasn’t gonna work, that we weren’t gonna turn against you, she decided to fuck us all over.”

“Damn.” Reese glances over his shoulder. “That’s messed up.”

“She’s obviously got some kind of personality disorder,” I say, although I’m having to dig really deep to find any sympathy for her anymore.