Who Falls Hardest (Clearwater University Book 3) Read online

  “That sounds a bit extreme, Ms. Holloway,” he says dubiously.

  “I know.” Tears burn my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. As frustrating as this is, if I give in to my emotions, I’ll only be giving Leslie what she wants. “It is extreme. It’s been a nightmare, honestly. But please—I’m already in the building. I came here for my interview, and I really do need this job. I have my real resume right here. Can I please come up and speak with you for a few minutes?”

  I try to keep my voice steady and even, but there’s a note of desperation that creeps in. Maybe Devon Clarke can hear it, because after a long pause, I hear him sigh.

  “Alright. We’ll do your interview as planned, and you can explain all of this a little more clearly.”

  “Thank you.” My breath rushes out in a relieved whoosh, and I press the elevator call button several times, praying the damn thing gets here before he has a chance to change his mind.

  “I’ll see you shortly.”

  There’s a click as he hangs up, and a moment later, the elevator doors swing open. I ride up to the third floor, digging into my bag as I do. Thank fuck, I really do have a hard copy of my resume. I printed out dozens of them when I first started job-hunting, and I double-checked that I had one before I left the house today.

  When I reach the Sterling Minor Law Firm’s floor, the secretary greets me before ringing Devon to let him know I’ve arrived. He steps out to greet me, and I stand tall as he approaches, holding my resume tightly in one hand.

  “Miss Holloway.”

  He shakes my free hand firmly before leading me into a small conference room. We settle into seats on opposite sides of the table, and he takes my resume, which I practically throw at him.

  His gaze scans the paper, and I watch a line appear between his eyebrows as he reads over the document.

  “Huh.” He looks back up at me, leaning back in his seat. “Well, you weren’t lying. This doesn’t match the resume you emailed me at all. To be honest, I almost didn’t call any of the listed references. It was mostly a formality. Reese is one of our best new hires, so his recommendation counts for a lot. But I did call one, and after that, I felt obligated to call the others.”

  My hands twist around each other in my lap, anxious energy coursing through me. “If this is because of my hacker like I think it is, I can only imagine the kinds of things the people you spoke to told you about me.”

  He huffs a laugh, cocking his head as he studies me. “Yes. It wasn’t exactly glowing praise.”

  “I promise you,” I say earnestly. “If you call anyone on my real resume, they’ll have much better things to say.”

  He’s wavering. I can tell he is. The last thing I want to do is air my dirty laundry at a job interview—or drag Reese’s name through the mud—so I’m careful to avoid going into the details of how and why, but I quickly explain the way Leslie has been using her vast computer knowledge to dismantle my life piece by piece.

  Devon’s eyes widen as he listens, and when I finish speaking, he’s nodding slightly.

  “That sounds truly awful, Miss Holloway. I’m sorry. But I will tell you, I respect the fact that you stuck to your guns and insisted on the interview. A lot of people would let this get them down, let it beat them, but you’re fighting it, and I admire that.”

  “Thank you,” I say quietly.

  I don’t quite know how to respond to his compliment, and I definitely don’t feel all that strong most of the time. All the guys and I have been doing so far is weathering the storm, surviving the hurricane that is Leslie. But surviving is the first step toward beating her, so I’ll take it for now.

  Devon studies me for a moment. Then he breaks into a smile, tapping the edge of my resume against the desk. He sets it down and picks up another piece of paper. I see my name printed at the top, and I assume that must be the fake resume Leslie sent him.

  Before I can pick out any more details on the sheet of paper, Devon rips it cleanly in half.

  “Alright then, Miss Holloway. What do you say we start fresh?” He puts aside the shredded resume and reaches across the table to shake my hand again. “Thank you for coming in today. Let’s begin your interview.”

  9

  Emma

  I leave the Sterling Minor Law Firm’s office floating on cloud nine.

  This won’t be my forever career. It’s not the same as getting back into school. But it’s a win, and I really need one of those right now.

  After the initial awkwardness of our phone call, the interview went amazingly well. Everything felt like it just clicked into place, and the more I talked to Devon about the job and what it entailed, the more confident I became.

  I can do this job.

  And I will be doing it. I’ll start early next week, working part-time with an eye toward going full time in the future if everything goes well.

  The grin on my face doesn’t fade as I ride the elevator back to the first floor, and I even spare a smile for the security guard who was so entertained by my private drama earlier.

  I step out into the cool, wintery afternoon, already reaching into my pocket to grab my phone and text the guys. But before I can do that, my gaze catches on a figure striding toward me from across the street.

  My brows draw together. “Reese?”

  The man with the gorgeous emerald eyes and rich brown hair beams at me as he heads up the sidewalk toward me. “Hey, Ems. How’d it go?”

  “Good.” I nod. “Really good. What are you doing here? Don’t you have class?”

  He shrugs. “Yeah. But I ditched. I wanted to be here to congratulate you.”

  My heart beats a little faster in my chest, but I grin at him to cover for the wave of emotions that rises in me. “How did you know you’d be congratulating me?”

  Reese stops in front of me, one arm snaking out to wrap around my waist and pull me closer to him.

  “Because Devon’s not an idiot. And only an idiot would be dumb enough not to hire you.” His expression shifts slightly, becoming uncharacteristically serious. “And if he was stupid enough to turn you down, I wanted to be here for you.”

  My hand rests on his chest, and the steady thrum of his heart beneath my palm seems to sync up with my own pulse as I gaze up at him. A memory flashes through my mind of the night I screamed at him in the laundromat. Even after the harsh words that flew from my mouth like poison darts, he held me in his arms as grief overwhelmed me.

  He was there for me that night too.

  He’s here for me today.

  If I was waiting for proof that he’s on my side now, that he’s truly trying to make up for what he did in the past, I don’t think I could ask for better than this.

  Still, I can’t help the shake of my head as I breathe in his woody citrus scent. “You shouldn’t have ditched your classes. I could’ve told you all about it tonight after you got home.”

  Amusement glimmers in his eyes as he raises a hand and runs one knuckle down the curve of my cheek, his touch feather-light. It’s the barest of contact, but I swear I can feel the ripples of that small touch spreading through my entire body.

  “I didn’t want to wait that long, Ems.” He dips his head and presses his lips to mine in a chaste kiss that weakens my knees. “I’m proud of you. I wanted to be here for you. Will you let me take you out to celebrate?”

  My hand tightens, my fingers clutching a fistful of his shirt as he pulls back enough to look at me, his eyes bouncing between mine. Then, instead of answering him with words, I just tug him closer to me, going up on my tiptoes to kiss him again. And this time, there’s nothing soft or chaste about it.

  This kiss is hunger and fire, desire and possessiveness.

  I’m well aware that the security guard can still see us through the glass doors of the building, and that we’re probably giving him the best entertainment he’s had all day.

  But I don’t fucking care.

  Reese is here. I got a job. And nothing can ruin this moment for me.


  When our lips finally break apart, I can still taste Reese on my tongue. We’re both breathing a little harder, and his arm is like a steel band around my waist, holding me pinned to his body.

  “Is that a yes?” he asks with a teasing grin.

  I nod, grinning right back. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

  “Good.”

  He takes my hand and leads me down the sidewalk, leaving my bike and his car where they are. I’m not very familiar with this part of downtown, but Reese doesn’t hesitate as he steers me toward a little hole-in-the-wall sushi place. It’s so tiny I probably wouldn’t have even known it was here if he hadn’t taken me, but the minute we step inside, I know it’s going to be amazing.

  “Best sushi in Clearwater,” he murmurs as we grab seats at one of only a few tables in the whole place. “Best in SoCal, probably. This place is amazing. I found it on my second day at Sterling Minor, and I’ve been dying to bring someone here. I’m glad it’s you.”

  A blush works its way up my cheeks, and I look away from his striking eyes to focus on the menu. If he were anyone else, I might think he was laying it on a little thick with his sweet words and intense glances.

  But with Reese, it’s not like that. He’s not putting on an act. If anything, it’s like now he can finally say all the things he’d been wanting to for a long time. Like he’s been holding all of this inside his heart for too many months, too many years, and now it can finally come out.

  “I didn’t know you were such a discerning foodie,” I say, nudging his foot with mine under the table as I grin at him.

  His answering grin sends a wave of butterflies cascading through my stomach. “Oh, there are definitely some things you still don’t know about me, Ems.”

  “Really?” I cock an eyebrow. “Like what?”

  “When I was little, I once wore a ninja-turtle costume to school three days in a row.”

  A laugh bursts out of me, filling the small restaurant with the sound. “Oh, I knew that. West sold you out a long time ago, buddy.”

  Reese rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling. “That fucker.”

  Still chuckling, I pick up my menu. “Hey, isn’t that what friends are for? To know you better than you know yourself?”

  Reese goes quiet for a moment, and my amused grin slips a little. Shit. I probably shouldn’t have mentioned their friendship when things are so strained between him, West, and Trent.

  I’ve finally come to accept that it’s not my job to try to preserve their friendship—they need to do that on their own—but I doubt calling attention to how close they used to be is helping anything.

  “Yeah,” Reese says finally, reaching across the table to tangle his fingers with mine. “It is what friends are for.”

  The conversation shifts to other topics, and a few minutes later, a waiter comes by to take our order. We talk and laugh and eat so much sushi I swear I’ll have to be rolled out the door afterward, and as we’re finishing up the last roll, it strikes me how much I like this.

  All of it.

  I like spending time with Reese that’s just about enjoying each other’s company rather than dealing with some crisis or rehashing the fucked up history between us over and over again. I like how easy and right this feels. I like the way he watches me while I speak, as if he’s absorbing everything about me, and the way his sharp wit matches my own.

  He used to be my closest confidant back in high school, and after the Icons turned on me, I never really found anyone else to fill that role. It feels like I’ve been missing an essential part of myself for years, and now I’ve finally found it again.

  It feels incredible.

  Reese pays for lunch with cash since the guys are still sorting out the shit Leslie did to their credit cards. When we step outside and start heading back down the sidewalk, I veer toward my bike, but he catches my hand, tugging me back toward him.

  I go willingly, unable to resist the almost primal urge to be close to him, to feel encased against his muscular body. But I wrinkle my nose as I meet his gaze.

  “I should get my bike. And you have to go back to campus, don’t you?”

  He shakes his head, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. “Should. Don’t have to. Don’t want to.” He reaches up to tilt my head a little more toward his, his fingertips lingering on my chin. “Will you stay with me, Ems? Come home with me? I’ll come back for your bike, I promise.”

  A shiver works its way through my body at the clear need in his words. If I say “no,” I’m sure he won’t force me or give me a hard time. But I can hear how much he needs me to say “yes.”

  And in truth, it’s all I want to say.

  So I do.

  “Yeah.” I smile, catching his gaze. “I guess I can support you playing hooky for one day.”

  His fingertips play across my waist as we turn away from my bike. He holds the passenger door on his car open for me, and when he slides in behind the wheel, another memory flashes through my mind—the first time Reese and I had sex. He was sitting in that exact seat, the car parked in a small, hidden lot behind my dorm building.

  I had never had sex in a car before, but it wasn’t even a question that night. I needed him too badly to even think of stopping.

  Similar feelings are building inside me right now, and I shift a little in my seat, a slow ache building between my legs. Reese doesn’t miss the movement, and his pupils dilate as he starts the car with a rumble of the engine. Then he whips out of his parking space so fast I swear we leave a trail of burned rubber in our wake.

  We don’t speak as we drive back to the Icons’ house. Our conversation at lunch felt so easy and natural, but now I don’t trust myself to say a word without giving away the feelings rampaging around inside my chest.

  Tension builds between us as we drive, making all the nerves beneath my skin prickle with a sort of unnamable anticipation. I feel hyperaware of every little movement Reese makes, of his large hands on the wheel and the way beams of light coming through the window pick up the bright highlights in his brown hair.

  He glances at me once, probably feeling the weight of my gaze as it consumes him, but I don’t look away. My stomach fills with liquid heat as electric energy sparks between us.

  The bike ride to my interview earlier didn’t feel all that long, but the drive home feels interminable. When we finally reach the Icons’ house, Reese pulls quickly into the driveway. The other two men are probably still on campus, not having ditched their classes like he did.

  Without missing a beat, Reese turns off the car and shoves his door open, sliding out before coming around to open my door for me. I can’t tell if his gesture is chivalrous or just born of desperation to get me the hell out of the car already—but I honestly don’t care.

  Keeping his hand wrapped around mine, he pulls me toward the door, both of us moving so fast we’re almost running. We lose a second as he fumbles to shove the key into the lock, and a second later, we’re inside.

  And just like that, the thread snaps.

  All the tension that’s been gathering between us breaks, and our lips collide with bruising force. Reese’s hands delve into my hair as he holds my head, angling my face as his tongue slides past the seam of my lips. I welcome his inside, my own tongue battling with his as I struggle to taste all of him, to touch every bit of him.

  Our hands are everywhere—groping, squeezing, caressing. Sliding under clothes to steal touches of bare skin, fingernails raking over sensitive flesh. No one else is home, so the only sounds inside the house are our panting, gasping breaths and low groans as we stumble across the living room, trying to navigate our way across the floor without breaking apart for even a second.

  “Fuck, Ems. You’re so goddamn gorgeous. It took every damn bit of self-control I had not to kiss the fuck out of you back at the restaurant. To lay you out on the table and eat you instead.”

  Reese’s voice is strained, his words coming out with a low rasp as I drag my teeth and tongue down the muscled
column of his neck. When I bite down on the place where his neck meets his shoulder, he growls, hauling my body against his as he shoves his bedroom door open.

  I’ve been staying here long enough that there’s evidence of my presence around the room. A few clothes lie on the bed, and my suitcase sits against one wall.

  Reese lifts me in his arms, holding me effortlessly as my legs wrap around his waist. For a second, he pulls his attention away from me, casting his gaze around the room. “God, I fucking love having you in here. I love knowing that my sheets smell like you. That you sleep in my bed every night.”

  His tone is full of such raw possessiveness that it makes my clit throb. I never knew words alone could turn me on so much, but all three of the Icons seem to have a special gift for saying just the right thing to push me even higher, making need gather inside me like a pool of lava.

  “I wish I wasn’t sleeping alone,” I admit breathlessly.

  He must hear the truth in my voice too because he claims my lips in a deep kiss the moment I finish speaking. I lose myself in the feel of his body against mine, his broad shoulders and trim waist and muscled arms.

  A second later, we reach the bed. He lays me down on the covers, draping his body over mine as he continues to ravage my mouth with demanding lips. I lift my hips a little, beginning to scoot upward on the mattress, but Reese breaks our kiss, catching me before I can get too far.

  With a feral, hungry grin, he pulls me back toward him until my ass is nearly hanging off the bed.

  “Uh uh, Ems. I want you right here.”

  Keeping his gaze on me, he reaches deliberately for the waistband of my pants, flicking the button open and sliding the zipper down. One hand slips inside the opening, his fingers running over my pussy and feeling the dampness of my panties. He teases me with his touch, the thin barrier of my panties still separating us, until I’m writhing on the bed, shifting my hips as I chase his fingers, begging silently for more pressure.