Watch Me Fall (The Emerson U Series Book 1) Read online

  WATCH ME FALL

  THE EMERSON U SERIES #1

  KC KEAN

  Copyright © 2022 KC Kean

  www.authorkckean.com

  Published by Featherstone Publishing Ltd

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it wasn’t purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referred to in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorised, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Cover Design: Bellaluna Designs

  Proofreader: Sassi’s Editing Services

  Watch Me Fall / KC Kean – 1st ed.

  CONTENTS

  1. Lou-Lou

  2. Lou-Lou

  3. Lou-Lou

  4. Lou-Lou

  5. Lou-Lou

  6. Lou-Lou

  7. Lou-Lou

  8. Lou-Lou

  9. Lou-Lou

  10. Lou-Lou

  11. Lou-Lou

  12. Jameson

  13. Lou-Lou

  14. Ezra

  15. Lou-Lou

  16. Jagger

  17. Lou-Lou

  18. Lou-Lou

  19. Ezra

  20. Lou-Lou

  21. Lou-Lou

  22. Leo

  23. Lou-Lou

  24. Jameson

  25. Lou-Lou

  26. Lou-Lou

  27. Ezra

  28. Lou-Lou

  29. Lou-Lou

  30. Lou-Lou

  31. Lou-Lou

  32. Lou-Lou

  33. Lou-Lou

  34. Jagger

  35. Lou-Lou

  36. Jameson

  37. Lou-Lou

  AFTERWORDS

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ALSO BY KC KEAN

  To always following your dreams, and being a badass bitch when you do.

  Hurt comes in all different forms. There’s always someone worse off than you, but that doesn’t make your pain any less real, any less heartbreaking.

  EZRA CAMPBELL

  LOU-LOU

  THREE YEARS AGO

  I bring the bottle of cheap vodka to my lips, taking a gulp without care, teaching me a valuable lesson as the liquid burns, trickling down my throat. That’s what I get for being cocky and thinking I can take a shot smoothly.

  Coughing and spluttering, I bring my hand to my mouth, my eyes watering but even over all the noise I’m making, I can still hear the snicker to my right, and embarrassment floods my veins. It’s a good thing it’s only the two of us up here, otherwise, I might have died from mortification. I can picture my obituary now, ‘Lou-Lou Carter died from humiliation after attempting to prove she had a big set of lady balls by choking down a big mouthful of vodka straight from the bottle. Unfortunately, her throat had other plans and rebelled against the fiery liquid.’ Fucking traitor.

  “Quit fucking laughing, asshole,” I say with a chuckle once I can catch my breath, and I sigh in relief after checking to make sure I didn’t spill any down my vivid-pink mini dress.

  I swipe my blonde hair back off my face, and look expectantly at the culprit by my side.

  Leo Cooper.

  His favorite gray baseball cap sits backward on his head, covering his blond hair as he laughs into his elbow, but I see the sparkle of humor in his gray eyes. He’s always here for the fun and jokes, but he’s beyond sweet too. Which is why we decided to boycott the party and drink alone up here in his bedroom.

  “Don’t look at me like that, Lucy. It was funny. I knew you wouldn’t like it, but you wouldn’t listen,” he responds knowingly, and I roll my eyes as I stare down at him.

  “If you had brought the expensive stuff instead of this cheap shit, I wouldn’t feel like my insides are on fire,” I retort, taking the seat beside him on the old couch with a huff. The music playing downstairs vibrates the floors, offering a hint of background noise as I relax back in my seat.

  These parties are always boring as hell with all the stupid rules the guys lay out for me.

  No getting drunk.

  No being alone with any guy that isn’t one of the four of them.

  No dancing with someone with a dick.

  Blah. Blah. Blah.

  I thought I was going to finally get completely shitfaced tonight, but the taste is fucking nasty. So that’s definitely not happening, unless I miraculously find an acquired taste for this crap.

  I glance down at the bottle in my hand, pleading with it to magically turn into the fancy vodka we drank at my mom’s birthday party earlier this year, but it doesn’t work. I remember my mom gave me no lunch money in the build up to her birthday, all to have the expensive shit to celebrate, and there was no way we were going to be able to afford that tonight.

  “Who the fuck gave Luella that?” Jagger’s thunderous voice booms around us as the bedroom door swings open. I purse my lips in agitation as he storms toward me, and I huff in frustration.

  “What is it with you motherfuckers not hearing me? I don’t care if my birth certificate says Luella Carter. I don’t like it. I want to be called Lou-Lou. Lou-Lou,” I repeat for the hundredth time, but the scoff from Leo beside me gives me an answer.

  Fuck what I think, they’ll call me what they want.

  Always have, always will.

  Dicks.

  Jagger crouches down before me, snatching the vodka from my hand dismissively, before glaring at me. His leather jacket is tight around his thick muscles as he rubs his jaw, his menacing glare doing nothing but melting my panties.

  I can’t stop my thighs rubbing together as I take him in. It’s hard when one of my guys is around; two are far too tempting, and all four of them? Fuck, I’m ready to self-combust.

  The girls at high school call me a whore because I’m forever with my best friends, and I honestly wish I was; a whore to these guys at least. But nope, I’m a fifteen-year-old virgin, desperate for one or all of them to claim me.

  Jagger Izaro is my bossy, alpha asshole and his identical twin, Jameson, a close second in the brooding department. But they protect us all fiercely, and that’s their way of showing they care. Jagger’s angry glare only turns me on, and I don’t think that’s the reaction he’s going for.

  “Lay off, Jagger, we’re having fun,” Leo adds calmly, and I turn to him with a smile as he throws his arm around me.

  “You’re fifteen, idiots,” Jagger grunts, pointing his finger at us, and I throw my hands up in the air in annoyance.

  “Have you got your I.D. there too, Dad?” I toss back with my eyebrows raised, and Jagger shakes his head.

  “I’m older than you,” he mumbles, swiping a hand over his face, his deep brown eyes silently pleading with me to turn off my sass, but he should know by now the sass controls me, not the other way around.

  “By a year, asshole. I didn’t know sixteen was the new legal age to drink in Nevada,” I argue back sarcastically, as he swipes a hand over his face for the second time. I freeze, spotting his bloodied and busted knuckles. The rawness of the torn skin means this happened recently.


  My heart pounds in my chest as I reach out for his hand instinctively, and I hear the hiss on his lips, but I refuse to meet his gaze as I scan my eyes over the rest of him. I know I’ll find the usual grimace, his eyes glaring into the side of my head already. It’s the same every time.

  “It’s nothing, Luella,” he mumbles, attempting to pull his hand from my grip, but I cling to his fingers, knowing deep down he could release my grip on him within seconds, but he chooses not to.

  “Nothing wouldn’t look like this, Jag,” I respond, finally lifting my gaze to his. My mouth goes dry as I watch him lick his bottom lip, his eyes scanning my face, trying to decipher my mood like we haven’t danced this same dance before.

  I feel Leo move closer, but he remains silent, knowing full well I’m close to going nuclear.

  I hate seeing any of my guys bruised, never mind cut, and it’s my responsibility to keep them in check. They’re always in some kind of trouble. Or that’s what I tell myself. Why else would four hot guys keep my loser ass around all these years?

  We’ve been friends since I was six-years-old, the memory forever in my brain, but the problem in front of me is more important than getting lost down memory lane.

  “I want everyone out, Leo,” I state, and without a word he’s up on his feet and out the door, ready to kick everyone out of the party just because I told him to.

  Jagger reluctantly moves to the newly vacated seat as I rise to my feet. Glancing around the navy blue painted bedroom, I take a second to remember where Leo keeps everything.

  His double bed is to my left, the television on the wall to my right, angled perfectly for when we relax on the couch. Leo’s closet is straight ahead, and I’m sure that’s where I left it.

  “You don’t—”

  “Shut the fuck up, Jagger,” I interrupt, not wanting to hear his excuses as I rush across the room in my heels, swinging the closet doors open to reveal Leo’s chaotic mess.

  Clothes are thrown everywhere, but the neat stack of boxes at the bottom left is a beacon, and I relax a little when I spot the green medical kit sitting on top from the last time I had to use it.

  Grabbing the supplies, I hear the bedroom door reopen, and when I step back out I find all four of my best friends in one spot.

  H.O.T.

  It should be illegal.

  They treat me like a goddamn queen, even if they’re assholes at the same time, but rightfully so; it makes them my kings. Always.

  “Lou-Lou with the box of magic, do your thing. I have another idiot,” Ezra calls out, his brown curly hair bouncing as he looks over his shoulder at me with a wink, his glasses framing his face, and my teeth sink into my bottom lip as his crooked grin melts my soul.

  It definitely helps that he’s finally started to call me Lou-Lou, unlike these other assholes, and that definitely makes him today's favorite.

  Moving toward them, I understand what he means when I spy Jameson now in my spot beside Jagger with his hands in the same state as his brother’s.

  Side by side they’re almost too similar, brown hair, brown eyes, chiseled jaws, and wide shoulders, making them every girl's wet dream. Especially at high school, everyone wants a piece of them, even trying to befriend me to get closer to them.

  But I see the differences. Jagger’s hair is longer, to his chin with a slight wave to it, while Jameson always keeps it above his ears and styled. Jameson also has a tiny red mark in his left iris that I’ve never seen on another soul, not even Jagger’s, and I swear it looks like a tiny heart.

  “Someone better explain to me what the hell has been going on,” I grumble, opening the med kit on the bed as Leo walks back in.

  “Everyone’s gone,” he murmurs, dropping down on the bed in front of me, and I mutter my thanks.

  No one answers me, refusing to offer any details in regards to the two-cavemen-with-bloody-knuckles situation.

  Taking a deep breath, I sigh, pulling my shoulders back, and place my hands on my hips as I turn to glare at the bloodied twins sitting casually on the couch.

  “Answers,” I say firmly, giving them both my best don’t fuck with me face. My eyes narrowed, lips pinched and a raised eyebrow, but they both stare at me blankly, frustrating the hell out of me. “Listen, assholes, I was about to get drunk with Leo and find me a yummy piece of man meat to finally get hot and heavy with. Now, I’m giving all of that up to tend to your stupid fucking knuckles, so at the very least, you could explain what the hell happened.”

  I sound like a demanding brat, I know, and I’m definitely letting that little tidbit of information slip in hopes of making them jealous. I’m instantly rewarded with anger burning in both of their eyes, offering me a hint of satisfaction.

  They might be my guys, but they’re not my guys. Not how I want them, and I’m done sitting around waiting to explore my sexuality like every other teenager in this town seems to be doing.

  “No one is fucking touching you,” Jameson growls, his voice like venom.

  “I know and I’m trying to rectify that, numb nuts,” I sass back, turning to grab the rubbing alcohol and gauze as I ignore what he actually meant by ‘no one touching me’.

  “Like fuck you are,” Ezra says quietly, which catches me off guard, and I chance a peek over my shoulder in his direction to see his hands clenched at his side and his eyebrows scrunched together.

  He’s the same age as the twins, a whole year older than me. He doesn’t usually think he can boss me around, so I don’t know why he’s trying now. It’s not his usual character.

  “Don’t tell her what to do, Ezra, we all know it pushes her to do the complete opposite because she’s, and I quote, ‘a boss-ass bitch’,” Leo says with a grin, and I frown.

  What the hell?

  When the fuck have they talked about this?

  “It does not,” I quickly respond, knowing full well I’m full of shit.

  Jagger scoffs. “Luella, I beat the fuck out of some punk tonight who thought he had a chance with you,” he bites out, his eyes swirling with something I hadn’t noticed there before, and my jaw hits the floor in surprise. “What makes you think I’m going to let you get wasted and go looking for dick when there are four right here in this room?”

  My mouth goes dry as my eyes remain locked on his, completely shocked at his words, but a shiver runs through my body just like I expect.

  I’ve flirted around with him for years, all of them actually. It’s natural between us, but no one has ever taken it further with me, and I’ve had enough of waiting around.

  Throwing the rubbing alcohol and gauze into Jagger’s lap, I clench my hands at my sides.

  “That’s not for you to decide. Everyone in my class is doing it, talking about sex like the devil himself licked their tight cunts, and I’m up here dry as hell. I want to experience it, Jagger. Me. It’s my choice,” I rant, my face getting redder with frustration with every word that passes my lips as I jab my finger in his direction.

  Silence descends over the room, and I feel four sets of eyes glaring holes into my head, but I hold my ground and say nothing.

  This isn’t the first time I’ve had an outburst about still being a virgin. I’m usually shut down with some crap about my age, but I’ve never complained in front of all four of them before.

  When no one responds to me, I sigh in frustration, swiping a hand through my hair.

  “Well then. If that’s all, you can take care of your own fucking wounds tonight, I’m going home,” I declare, glancing at Jameson out of the corner of my eye who continues to stare at me in a state of shock.

  I turn for the door, avoiding Ezra and Leo’s gaze in fear of pity or rejection. Putting one foot in front of the other, I don’t even complete one step, when an arm bands around my waist and I’m pulled back against a solid chest, making me gasp in surprise.

  The smell of leather immediately tells me it’s Jagger. My body is desperate to fall back into his touch, but I mentally fight against it, not wanting to giv
e him the satisfaction of being able to read my body.

  Remaining still in Jagger’s arms, I watch as Ezra rakes his teeth over his bottom lip, Leo swipes a hand over his mouth, while Jameson adjusts his cock, and I shiver at the bulge at my back too.

  They’re all as affected as I am, but they’re not willing to do anything about it. Otherwise they would have by now.

  My body tingles from head to toe in anticipation as each second goes by. Waiting to see what’ll happen next. Waiting for their next move or if they’re just fucking with me. The silence is its own version of foreplay. And I am all for it.

  Jagger’s breath blows against my ear as he adjusts his hold on me slightly, his voice barely above a whisper as he finally breaks the silence. “I think it’s about time we gave our Luella exactly what she wants, boys.”

  My heart pounds in my chest, my neck tilting slightly as his words dance along my skin and hit me in my core. For far too long I’ve dreamed about them touching me, the way I touch and explore myself. But I know I’ll fall apart at their hands easier than my own; I crave it so much.

  “For once, I’d have to agree with Jagger,” I murmur, wetting my lips as I try to keep my eyes focused on the other guys, but I’m needy for it all now. “Just don’t get used to it.”

  “I one hundred percent approve,” Leo says from the bed, wagging his eyebrows, and I grin.