Who Falls Hardest (Clearwater University Book 3)

by Eva Ashwood

  “It’s okay. I’m okay,” I reassure them. My gaze flits to Trent. “I woke up this morning knowing I had to do something. And that thing you said a while ago kept flashing through my mind. That Leslie was bound to make a mistake sooner or later because this was personal. It was emotional—not calculated and cold.”

  “Yeah.” He’s watching me warily, as if he still can’t quite believe I talked to Leslie and made it out unscathed.

  “Well, when I was going through my Facebook account the other day, I realized that the only people she sent that message with the virus to were people I knew from CU. Other students. That got me thinking that Detective Walton was probably right—she had help on the outside, someone at Clearwater.”

  I take a deep breath, my fingers twisting together.

  “I don’t know if there’s anyone in the world Leslie hates more than me. I still don’t understand why she hates me so much, but I knew she wouldn’t be able to keep her cool talking to me the same way she would if she was questioned by the cops, or even by you guys. She’s angry at me and jealous of me, and no matter what, she wants to one-up me. So I poked her.” My smile finally breaks free. “And she slipped up.”

  Reese’s emerald eyes gleam as he takes a step closer to me. I can see the hope expanding inside him, see the gleeful grin ready to erupt over his face. “What are you saying, Ems?”

  “I know how she’s been hacking us. And if Detective Walton is able to move fast, it should give him enough to connect her to everything that’s been done to us.”

  My body buzzing with adrenaline, I tell them everything. Their expressions harden as I recount my conversation with Leslie, and I see Trent’s hands clench into fists. But I keep going, forging ahead until I reach the end.

  “I called Walton,” I add. “He’s on it. He said he’ll keep me posted.”

  There’s silence for a moment after that. All three men are still watching me closely, their gazes burning pathways over my skin. Finally, West speaks, his voice rough.

  “You didn’t have to do that, Emma. One of us could’ve gone to see her. Or we could’ve all gone as your backup.”

  “I know.” My voice softens as I shake my head slightly. “I know you would’ve, West. All of you. I really do believe that. But this was something I had to do on my own. Because Leslie was threatening people I loved, and I couldn’t let her do that anymore.”

  The words hang in the space between us, infusing the air with something I can’t even put a name to. The three Icons freeze as if they’ve been struck by lightning.

  When Trent told me he loved me last night, I don’t know if he even realized he said it. It was more like a truth he had thought in his head dozens of times finally slipped out of his mouth, something he was so used to thinking that it didn’t even strike him as strange when he spoke the words out loud.

  But my statement was deliberate, and I know the men felt every word.

  They move at the same time, prowling toward me like hungry lions. Humor and heat glint in Reese’s green eyes, while West’s gray irises churn with a cacophony of emotions. Trent’s nostrils are flared wide, and when Reese wraps his arms around me and pulls me to him, the other two men converge on me too, pinning me between three solid bodies.

  “You love us, Ems?” Reese asks, his voice low. “All of us?”

  I chuckle, although the sound is breathless. “Of course all three of you. I told you I could never choose.”

  West’s demanding, possessive hands roam over the curve of my waist. He grips my hip tightly as he presses closer to me, nuzzling his face into my hair as he murmurs, “We love you too.”

  My knees go soft as noodles, and I grab on to Reese tightly to stay upright as Trent’s hand comes around my neck—not squeezing, but just tight enough to make every cell in my body aware of his touch.

  “We love you so fucking much that we won’t stand for you putting yourself in harm’s way ever again. Not for us, not for anything. We take care of you, got it?”

  “A-fucking-men,” West adds. He’s still got his face buried in my hair, and his warm breath sends tingles down my spine.

  “Yeah. And I hate to break it to you, Ems, but we outvote you on this one. It’s three to one.” Reese’s voice is playful, but his grip on me tightens, the same warning in it that I feel in Trent’s touch.

  My heart is hammering against my ribs, and heat is gathering in my belly like lava. My pussy clenches around nothing, the slight ache in my ass only making arousal spike higher.

  “You know,” I joke breathlessly. “I’m not sure I like you all ganging up on me like this. I think I should get three votes to make things even.”

  Trent chuckles. His grip on my neck loosens as his lips find the skin of my shoulder.

  “Not gonna happen, Ems.”

  “And besides, you like it when we gang up on you.” Reese rolls his hips against me as he speaks, letting me feel how hard he is and sending a cascade of butterflies flapping through my belly.

  My laugh turns into a groan as West’s hand slides up my shirt, his fingers finding my nipple and sending little jolts of sensation through me.

  Fuck. They’re right.

  I do like this.

  I really, really do.

  20

  West

  Steam from the shower fills the small space as hot water pours over me. I dip my face beneath the spray and scrub a hand down my face as I shake droplets of water from my hair.

  It’s almost over.

  It’s almost fucking over.

  This thing with Leslie was more of a nightmare than any of us bargained for, and I can’t wait until that crazy bitch is behind bars. Not that I still won’t sleep with one eye open or get touchy anytime someone even looks at Emma funny. But it’ll be one less thing to worry about, and that’s good.

  Emma’s face floats through my mind. Her soft, bow-shaped lips that smile so easily. Her big brown eyes, the soft waves of her hair.

  When she first showed up on campus, I fucked my fist till my dick was raw trying to get her out of my mind. I wanted her gone. I wanted the things she made me feel to stop. It was too much for me to handle—or at least I thought it was.

  But now I realize it was just because even then, I was grappling with my feelings for her. Refusing to see them for what they were.

  Love.

  Possessiveness.

  A need to make her mine.

  Now that I have her, now that all of us have her, those feelings that used to make me think my chest might explode fill me up like air—like the very thing I need to survive.

  Emma is my lifeline. My savior.

  Fucking hell, I guess falling in love turned me to a damn poet.

  I smile lazily, reaching down to stroke my cock lightly. It hardened as my thoughts drifted to Emma, although I don’t feel the same desperate need for relief I used to. I don’t feel like my need for her will tear me apart.

  Because I have her. And that knowledge sits inside my chest like the most precious treasure in the goddamn world.

  My eyes drift shut, my strokes becoming a little harder.

  When I hear a soft click, my head jerks up in time to see the door open. And when Emma steps inside, it feels for a moment like I summoned her with the sheer force of my desire.

  I make no move to hide what I was doing, letting her take in the sight of me surrounded by a haze of steam and water, fist clenched around my cock. Her cheeks flush and she draws her lower lip between her teeth as she closes the door behind her.

  “Detective Walton just called,” she says, still gazing hungrily at me through the glass of the shower stall. “They arrested Rory this morning, and he gave them everything they needed. They’re heading to Sun Valley this afternoon. He just wanted me to know. It’s done.”

  The last bit of tension in my body breaks, and a slow smile spreads across my face as I stare back at her.

  “Emma,” I say, my voice a deep growl. “I love the fuck outta you. But next time you say Detectiv
e Walton’s name while I’m fisting my cock, I’m gonna make you pay for it on your back.”

  Her eyes fly wide in surprise, and then she laughs. A cocky smile tilts her lips as she reaches down with both hands to tug off her t-shirt. It’s been a lazy Saturday morning, so she’s still wearing her sleep clothes, but it doesn’t take long for her to kick off her shorts and panties too, leaving her completely naked.

  Then she slips into the shower stall with me, her nipples peaking instantly at the contrast between the hot steam and the cool air outside the shower.

  “Say what?” she asks innocently, her gaze landing on my cock again. I was semi-hard while I was thinking of her and lazily stroking myself, but now my dick is like steel in my fist, pulsing angrily against my palm as it demands to feel her sweet wet heat. “Walton?”

  I grunt, releasing my shaft and wrapping my arms around the little tease, pulling her against me and pressing my aching dick into her stomach. Her body is already slick from the water, and she feels so fucking good in my arms.

  “You feel like being bad today, do you?” I growl.

  She shrugs, her gorgeous brown eyes glinting in the light. “I’m just so glad it’s over. So glad Walton called.”

  With a feral noise, I lift her into my arms, wrapping her legs around me and spinning her so her back is against the tiles. She’s pinned there, and I used that to my advantage, grinding against her, pulsing my hips in small movements as my dick runs between her wet folds. Teasing her but not quite giving her what she wants.

  “I told you, Ems. I’ll make you pay for that.”

  She grins, undulating against me, teasing me right back. “But you’re not fisting your cock anymore. So I can say Walton all I want.”

  This started out as a game, but the further we push each other, the more intense my need for her becomes—and the less I want to hear her say that fucker’s name.

  Yeah, he helped us nail Leslie, and he does seem like a good cop and a good guy. But I don’t want Emma saying any name that isn’t mine, Trent’s, or Reese’s.

  So I grab her ass in a tight grip, lift her slightly to line myself up, and then drop her on my cock, impaling her in one hard stroke.

  “West!” she screams, her legs locking around me as her fingernails dig into my scalp, her hands clenching fistfuls of my wet hair.

  That’s better.

  Grabbing a handful of her hair, I force her to meet my gaze as I draw out and slam back into her. We both let out raw noises of satisfaction, and her mouth drops open slightly as she gasps for breath.

  “You like this, baby?” I mutter as I begin to fuck her in earnest. “You like knowing how crazy you make me?”

  “You… make me… crazy,” she whimpers back, her voice broken up by the force of my thrusts.

  Good. I’m glad the feeling is mutual. That’s how it should be.

  Hot water cascades over us as we fuck, turning her skin a gorgeous shade of pink. My mouth latches onto the spot at the base of her neck, and I bite down hard, sucking hard on her delicate skin. Her pussy clenches around me like a vice, and I make her scream my name twice more before she finally comes, twisting and writhing against the tiles as I hold her up.

  I’m right there. Ready to follow her over the edge.

  But even knowing this isn’t the last time between us, that there will be hundreds more times, I always hate to let it end. I never want to stop being inside her.

  “Look at me, Emma,” I command, and she blinks her tired eyes open, breathing hard as she meets my gaze.

  I thrust hard and slow, burying myself to the hilt to punctuate each of my words.

  “I. Love. You.”

  On the last word, I come hard, filling her with my cum as I rock my hips against hers, grinding against her clit and dragging her into another orgasm with me.

  We stay like that for a while, letting our breath return to normal. My cock is softening, cum sliding out from where her pussy still clenches around my dick. And still, I’m not ready to let go. I’ll never be ready.

  “As much as I like you getting me dirty,” she finally says, pressing kisses to my neck and shoulder. “We should get clean. He Who Shall Not Be Named will be going to Sun Valley soon, and I want to be there. I want to see.”

  I’m amused and satisfied by her new nickname for the detective, but the quiet vulnerability in her voice as she speaks those last words distracts me from our game. I pull back, looking into her eyes as I brush wet strands of hair off her face with one hand.

  “We’ll be there with you, Ems. We’ll be right there with you.”

  She turns into my touch, nuzzling against my hand like a cat. When her brown eyes tilt back up toward me, I see warmth and truth and love in them.

  “I know you will.”

  21

  Emma

  There’s no need for us to be present for Leslie’s arrest. Detective Walton got all the evidence he needed, as well as a full confession from Rory—who clearly has issues of his own if the thing that made him get back together with Leslie was the prospect of breaking the law with her.

  But I want to be here.

  I need the closure.

  I need to see it with my own eyes so I’ll really believe it’s over. And honestly, I think the guys do too. They’ve forgiven me for sneaking off to see her on my own a week ago, but I want them to be here with me for this. For Leslie to see the four of us standing strong and tall, a completely united force.

  That’s the image I want her to carry in her mind as she’s carted off to jail to await a trail.

  A reminder that she didn’t break any of us.

  She made us stronger.

  “Ready?” Reese murmurs, his voice tense. “Here we go.”

  We’re standing across the street from Sun Valley Rehab Center, and as he speaks, the doors open. Leslie blinks in the bright sunlight, her blue and green eyes squinting against the harsh rays as she looks around. Her hands are behind her back, and Detective Walton leads her with a firm grip on her elbow.

  As she follows him grudgingly toward the waiting police car, her gaze lifts, landing immediately on me. I didn’t say a word, and none of us even moved—but she knew we were here anyway.

  A dozen different emotions flash across her face as she takes in the sight of us, but there are two I don’t see.

  There’s no guilt.

  And there’s no triumph.

  She’s not sorry, I think. I’m not sure if someone like Leslie can ever be sorry, can ever truly understand the wrongness of what they did. Trent, West, and Reese were horrible to me once upon a time, but all three of them worked to make amends for what they did. They regretted their actions. And that’s why I forgave them.

  Leslie probably won’t ever reach that point.

  But that’s okay.

  I don’t need her apology, and I don’t need her amends. Because she didn’t win.

  We did.

  West and Trent both shift closer to me on either side, and Reese’s hands settle firmly on my hips, my back pressed to his front. I feel all three of them around me, supporting and comforting me.

  Protecting me.

  We stay like that, watching silently as Leslie is put into the police car. Walton glances our way too, tipping his head in acknowledgement before sliding into the car as well. It rumbles off, and the street grows quiet.

  “That’s it,” I murmur, shaking my head in something almost like disbelief. “It’s done. It’s over. Life can go back to fucking normal now.”

  “Not exactly.” Trent’s voice has a hard edge of determination to it, and I glance over at him, startled. He cocks his head at me, his blue eyes glinting. “Normal would be you going to school with us, Ems. Going to class like you’re supposed to. On a scholarship you earned.”

  I pull away from Reese a little so that I can turn around and face all three of the guys.

  “That was the old normal,” I say, shaking my head. “My new normal is working and figuring out where to go from here. And I’m ok
ay with that. I like my job, and I’m ready to move forward.”

  Trent just shakes his head stubbornly, and West and Reese have the same expression on their faces too. It looks like I’m about to be outvoted again, although I don’t know how much that really matters. What’s done is done. Just because the four of us worked through things and managed to get to a much better place, that doesn’t mean we can just snap our fingers and make things magically reset to how they were.

  I open my mouth, but before I can say anything, Trent takes my hand, cutting me off.

  As if he knows exactly what I was about to say, he shakes his head. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot, Ems. And I think there might be a way. It’ll involve a lot of work, and a lot of groveling, but I’m willing to do it. We all are. Will you let us try?”

  It does take a lot of work.

  But the guys and I are a much better team than we were last semester, so I think we manage to put together a much better final presentation than we did when we were paired up the first time.

  It takes us two weeks of late nights and early mornings, fitting in writing and research around work and the guys’ other class projects. But we get it done.

  Now all that’s left is the groveling.

  All of us will have a part to play in this phase of Trent’s plan. I know he plans on groveling the most, but the truth is, none of us are entirely guiltless in this story. Maybe that’s why we were eventually able to forgive each other.

  Professor Sykes looks up in surprise as Trent raps on the door frame of his office. His gray hair is just as wild and untamed as it was last semester, making him look a bit like a mad scientist.

  His bushy eyebrows lift when he recognizes us, and he leans back in his seat. “Can I help you?”

  “Yeah.” Trent leads the way into his office, and all four of us gather in front of his desk. West is carrying the new binder that holds our completed project—a new version, better and more detailed than the first.