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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.
