Fallen Crest Forever (Fallen Crest High #7)

But I couldn’t lie, not about this, not about something I was proud of.

“No. She’s my fiancée now.”





SAMANTHA


An hour earlier.



“Sam.”

I was lacing up my sneakers. Mason had gone to tell his coaches what was going on. We’d slept super late, and half the day was gone already. I wanted to get a run in before he called to let us know their plan. I looked up from the back patio when Logan said my name, opening the back door. My heart sank at the look on his face.

“What is it?” My hands were suddenly clammy. I rubbed them down my running pants and stood.

He gestured behind him. “Just come in. You need to see this. It’s on the university’s cable channel.”

I think I knew even before I stepped inside.

Mason had been calm when he left, too calm. He’d been like that all night too, and the way he’d made love to me last night—I suppressed a shiver, one of the good kinds. He’d been tender, loving, giving. He’d worshiped my body, and then he’d taken us both on an almost-frenzied ride. It had been exhilarating, but now I knew why.

I heard his voice from the television in the living room. “ . . . My father is James Kade. He owns and runs a multimillion—”

Logan growled behind me, his arms crossed over his chest and his jaw clenching. “This is fucked up. He went alone.”

“Did you expect anything different?”

Nate came down the stairs. He wasn’t shocked like me, or furious like Logan. He was resigned, and a hint of fondness played over his features. He ran a hand over his face, then held it out toward the television. “This is what he does, Logan. You know that.”

“This was all of our decision.”

“No.” Nate shook his head. His voice was so calm, so understanding. “This is his career, his life. It was his decision. It was never really ours.”

“Nate—” Logan whirled to him, his eyes blazing. He took a step like he was going to hit him. He stopped, and his jaw clenched again. “Shut up.”

“No.” Nate was firm. He stepped in front of the television. He raised a finger in the air. “You need to give him this space.”

“This affects all of us.”

“It affects him the most,” Nate shot back. His eyes blazed right back at Logan, just not as much. He wasn’t as angry. “He won’t name us. He won’t put any of us in danger, and you know it. He’s taking the whole blame. I don’t even need to hear it to know I’m right.”

Mason’s voice filled the silence in the room. “ . . . I found statements on the computer there that showed a discrepancy, and it also showed—”

“You see that?” Nate turned and looked at the television. “I. He’s saying I. He’s not saying we or my name, your name. If you’re going to be angry, at least be angry for the real reason.”

Logan had grown silent, but flicked his eyes to Nate.

“You’re mad because he shut you out,” Nate murmured, almost too quietly for us to hear. He rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing. “But that’s his way of protecting you, and you know it.”

Logan remained silent, his chest rising and falling as he breathed.

I sank down on one of the couches, placing my hands in front of my mouth. I couldn’t listen, but I couldn’t leave. He was doing this all on his own. My stomach twisted. He must’ve been so scared, but Nate was right. He was protecting us in his way.

I focused for a moment and finally realized the two reporters were helping him. They were flipping his story into something else, something where he was the victim, where Adam and his father were the bad guys.

Good! A part of me growled.

“You were never charged,” a reporter said to Mason.

Mason frowned at him. “What?”

The reporter’s voice sounded from behind the camera, “They can’t do an investigation if you were wrongfully picked up by your local police. It seems to me they did the right thing.”

Logan swore, sitting in the chair closest to the television. “They’re helping him.”

“That’s my fault.”

I closed my eyes. I knew Taylor’s voice, and it all started to make sense. She was wringing her hands together when I looked at her.

She flashed an apologetic smile. “I couldn’t not say anything.”

She turned to Logan, but I knew what she was going to say.

“You disappeared last night after we got here,” I said. “You called your dad, didn’t you?”

She jerked her head in an unsteady nod. “I had to.”

Logan was quiet again. She kept skirting her gaze to him, then back to me.

“This isn’t the first time an athlete has been in trouble,” she said. “My dad knows guys. They can pull some strings and get favors. I had to let him know ahead of time. He needed a chance to see if he could help. Mason deserved that.”

Logan pointed to the screen. “It’s working.”

She nodded, sitting down across from him. She was on the edge of her seat, her hands pressed together on her knees. “Are you mad at me?”

His eyes softened. “No, baby. Never.”

She sighed, her shoulders relaxing.

One of the reporters was speaking again. “Did they arrest him?”

Taylor nodded toward the television. “That reporter and the other one you guys heard talking, those are heavy-hitter sports reporters. They’ve always tried to help my dad, if they can. Sometimes they can, sometimes they can’t, but they’re going over and above in this press conference. My guess is that they don’t like Steven Quinn for some reason.” She lifted a shoulder. “Or they just really like Mason.”

We all looked at each other.

“Nah.” That came from Nate.

Logan shook his head. “No way. Who likes Mason?”

I only laughed, content to hear the jokes from them. My stomach had stopped twisting, and the press conference seemed to be coming to an end. I stood. I needed to be there for Mason now, and I moved to grab a sweatshirt and my purse when I heard, “. . . You stated before that your girlfriend was your ‘girlfriend at the time.’ Why is that? Did you two break up?”

No.

I froze, my hand in mid-air, and then I heard Mason answer, almost too quickly.

“—she’s my fiancée now.”

I gulped.

He hadn’t.

He had.

I turned swiftly. Everyone in the room stared at me with varying expressions of surprise. Nate’s eyes were wide, Taylor had the beginning of a smile, and Logan—he was the one I was most afraid to look at—his eyes were hooded, his face unreadable.

I started for him. “Logan.”

He held up a hand, stopping me in my tracks. He didn’t say a word, just stood and walked outside.

Taylor stood too. Her eyebrows pulled together. “Sam, I—”

“Go after him.” I stepped back.

She rushed past me, but squeezed my arm on the way and whispered, “Congratulations!” Then she was gone, slamming the door behind her.

It was just Nate and me.