Who Breaks First (Clearwater University)

Leslie’s still gazing at me with awe in her eyes, so I snort a laugh.

“I don’t wear perfume. But if I did, I’m pretty sure whatever I wear would be called scandal.” I scrub my hands over my face. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“Well, I think it’s awesome that you just take what you want, no matter the consequences. That’s how I live. It’s the best way to make sure you don’t miss out.” Leslie beams at me, waggling her brows. Then she drops her voice, scooting a little closer to the edge of her bed. “Besides, you know sometimes people share, right? It’s, like, a thing.”

“What?”

“I’m serious. This is the real world. It’s not all roses and chocolates and monogamy. In fact, lots of people share. That’s what a harem is.”

I throw a pillow at her, blushing hard. “Oh my God, I cannot believe I’m having a conversation about harems. Besides, that’s between a guy and many girls, isn’t it?”

She shrugs, unconcerned by that little detail. “So reverse it. One girl, three guys.” A dreamy look comes into her eyes. “That’s what I want. Or four. Or five.”

“That’s crazy.”

“It’s not crazy!” she assures me. “It’s a real thing, Emma. Look it up.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Okay, that’s a lie. I’m definitely looking that up later.

My mind skips back to the images that flew through my head on Saturday morning as I made myself come. I didn’t know there was a name for it, but that’s exactly what I was picturing.

Is that something I would want?

Yes.

Truthfully, as much as it scares me, the idea thrills me too. I tortured myself for months in high school because I thought falling in love with my best friends meant I’d have to pick between them, to choose only one. It’s why I panicked so badly when each of them asked me out.

But maybe there’s another option?

Of course, that would only be an option if I was seriously considering taking things any further with the guys. And I’m not. I can’t.

We had our chance in high school, and maybe we would’ve found our way to a relationship eventually, but then Trent threw a pipe bomb into our group, blowing everything to little pieces.

When I arrive in anthropology class the next day, I’m totally expecting the worst. I’m certain all three of the Icons are going to revert back to their cruelest selves, and we’ll start this game all over again.

But when I sit at my desk, I look over at Reese to find him smiling warmly at me. Even Trent turns in his chair.

“Hey, Emma,” he says, and I don’t sense that he’s forcing himself to be nice.

“Hey,” I say back.

“Did you have a good weekend?” Reese asks, heat reflecting in his glittering green eyes.

“Yeah. Um, I did.” I bite my lip to keep from smiling. Memories of what Reese and I shared come flooding back into my body, as if every touch is imprinted on my skin like a brand.

When West walks into the classroom, he doesn’t say hello, but there’s something thoughtful and warm in his gray eyes as he nods at me.

What happened to all the tension? What happened to all the rage? It’s weirding me out how it seems to have just dissipated.

As class continues, my phone buzzes with a text, and I pull it out surreptitiously to peer at it.

TRENT: I’ve missed you.

I don’t know how to respond. It’s been over a week since we had sex. I’ve been avoiding him ever since, because I know I have to keep my guard up. But… he’s missed me? Is he lying? Is he fucking with me?

Before I can decide, another text comes through.