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Maybe she’s different now?
We were just teenagers at the time. Now, I’m twenty years old and going into my second year at Clearwater U. I have my boys with me, and the three of us together can take on the world. But with Emma showing up on campus out of nowhere, I’m pretty sure shit is about to blow up.
Or maybe I’m the one who’s going to explode, from the heady mix of feelings and impulses that spring up just from seeing Emma Holloway again.
“Dude? What’s up?” Reese asks, laughing as he takes in my expression.
I can feel my jaw clenching, and my legs feel fucking numb. What the hell is wrong with me?
And that’s when I notice Emma duck behind the bush.
“Did you see that?” I ask.
“See what?” West grunts.
Instead of pointing, I just nod toward the bush Emma is crouched behind, her blonde head ducked low as if that’ll keep us from noticing her.
Yeah. Right. She’s mostly obscured from view, but she still stands out like a damn beacon as far as I’m concerned.
“Emma fucking Holloway,” I reply flatly.
My boys turn toward the bush, and I wonder if she can feel all three of us looking her way like a pack of hungry wolves. I hear Reese laugh to himself, but West is silent as ever.
“Isn’t that amusing,” Reese says darkly, focusing his attention forward again.
I make a noise in my throat. “Yeah. It is.”
Of course, it’s about the furthest thing from amusing I can imagine. It’s intoxicating and infuriating. Memories of the old feelings I was developing for her come back again in a rush, and I grit my teeth, reminding myself why it’s better to hate her.
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.
