The Forever Crew (Adamson All-Boys Academy, #3)

by C.M. Stunich

“Butt cheek of dawn?” he asks, looking slightly perplexed. “That’s not a phrase, Chuck.” “Sure it is. Why is butt crack of dawn a phrase, but not butt cheek? What’s the difference?” “It’s crack of dawn, Chuck-let,” he argues, but I shake my head and hold up a finger. “I’ve heard butt crack of dawn used plenty of times.” “Yeah, by you.” Spencer shakes his head at me, and then sighs, pressing his forehead to mine.

“I was jealous,” he admits. Spencer opens his eyes and crooks a wily half-smile. “Doesn’t look too good on me, does it? All this jealousy?” “I’d be worried about you if you weren’t jealous,” I whisper back, wanting to kiss him so bad my lips hurt. “I mean, if you were dating another girl … let alone multiple girls—identical twins, no less—I’d lose my shit. I couldn’t do it; it’d break me.” “Break you?” he says, and then chuckles, his cedar and hyssop smell taking over me. “It’d take a lot more than that to break you, Chuck-let.”

“Ah, covered in red wax. But I can explain that.” “Dude, you sound guilty as fuck,” Tobias murmurs, giving his brother a sidelong glance. “Even I don't know why you have a lighter covered in red wax in your hoodie pocket.”

Somehow, I feel like I'm surrounded by sharks in this room. Just … are they going to eat me or eat the fuckers who are trying to kill me? “Listen up, Jaws,” I start, only vaguely realizing that perhaps my Jaws movie reference only makes sense to me.

“Even though I like sharing girls with you, sometimes I want to be my own person for five fucking seconds.”

There are the murderers … And then there are the guys. It's a whole other shit show I'll have to eventually go through, but now isn't the time.

Gah, I’m such a girly, romance-obsessed weirdo! If I ever get to that point where I’m smelling sweaty t-shirts, so help me …

The only good guys are standing in this room. No matter how the evidence looks, do you believe that?” I start to respond, but Church cuts me off by leaning down and capturing my lips in a torturous kiss that's equal parts reassuring and terrifying. The sweet, sharp taste of danger lingers on his lips, but I find myself falling for it anyway. A great kiss does not a trustworthy person make, and yet …

I shiver as Church steps away from me, trying not to catch the gazes of any of the other guys. Kissing one in front of the others is just … well, weird. Not sure I'll ever get used to it. Although I wish this was a thing, a group relationship. I mean polyamory is real, so why not?

“Do you think I make up rules just to torture you?” “Sometimes,” I admit, and the look he gives me is pure hell. “What? You could try explaining things to me once in a while. Instead, all you do is give vague orders that I'm supposed to follow like a soldier.”

“Being in a healthy, happy relationship with more than one person doesn't make me a bad human being,”

He holds out a hand, and I hesitate just a split-second before taking it. An enigmatic smile curves over Church's lips, his eyes sparkling. “Come, Chuck. I don't bite—not unless you want me to.” Tentatively, I place my hand in his, and he yanks me forward. I nearly trip over the edge of my yukata, stumbling into his arms, and finding myself gazing up into that handsome face and wondering what it'd really be like to be engaged to someone so perfect. Church Montague is smart, accomplished, handsome, and a member of one of the richest families in America. Basically, he's a dream.

“You're still afraid of me,” he says, but not like he's angry, more like that's expected. “I'm not,” I protest, but maybe I am. Just a little. “But it would be the ultimate prank, to draw me in, and then finish me off after I already, you know, sort of like you guys and stuff.” “Sort of?” Church asks, and then he leans down and hovers his lips just above mine, that lilac and rosemary scent we share mingling in the cool air. His breath is minty and fresh, and I realize that as much coffee as he drinks, he never has coffee breath. Never. See, he really is perfect. Almost too perfect though, right? Is there such a thing?

“Wow, look the faggot has a harem of gays all to himself.” Mark sneers as he walks by, and Church's face flashes with this dark energy. He pulls a fan from his pocket, one that's all folded up, and then he chucks it with two fingers hard enough to hit Mark right in the throat. The idiot gags and starts choking, grabbing at his neck. “Did you seriously just throw that at me?!” “Prove it,” Church says with a dreadful looking smile. “You've been uppity lately, Mark. Tell me: are you up to something the Student Council should know about?” “Eat some dick. Clearly that's your thing, right?” Mark storms off, rubbing at his neck, and Church releases me, sauntering over to pick up the fan and tucking it back into his pocket.

The twins started off bickering, but now that they're asleep, somehow Micah's arm is over Tobias. It's pretty cute actually. Spencer is all tangled up in his sheets, and Ranger is curled up, like he's trying to protect something.

I wonder if he’s wearing any underwear beneath his robe? I facepalm for even thinking that. When I look up, Church is raising a single, skeptical brow at me. “Did you just literally facepalm to your own thoughts?” he asks, and I grimace. I have a bad habit of wearing my heart on my sleeve.

“You're blushing. Pray tell: what thought’s just skittered through that pretty little head of yours?” “Pretty little head … that's kinda sexist, don't you think?” I murmur, flushing even harder, and Church laughs again. It's a low, soft sound, almost dangerous. I can't believe I ever thought he was a sociopath (or psychopath, whatever, I can't remember the difference). He's just bottled up, full of emotion he refuses to submit to. Me, I'm a slave to my emotions.

Our mouths brush, just the slightest touch of lips, and a sea of butterflies takes off in my belly, making me feel dizzy. We can't have a full-on make out session with the other guys in the room, now can we, I tell myself, but it's hard to figure out group dating etiquette when, you know, there really isn't any available.

“Chuck and I were about to get hot and heavy, and you interrupted us,” Church finishes before I can stop him. My cheeks flame as the other four boys in the Student Council glance my direction. Uh-oh. “We don't particularly like being watched.”

Like, he was my first time, and I'll never be able to forget that. Scratch it: I wouldn't want to forget that. But I'm also aware that dating five guys isn't a super realistic life choice. At some point, I'm going to have to choose between them, huh? The thought flitters through my mind like a moth, and I brush it away to the dark recesses of my brain.

“Mark is a serious cum wad,” I point out, and all five boys give their agreement in murmurs, nods, or shrugs. Also, note to self: don’t say cum around all five of your boyfriends, Chuck. It takes on a less gross and more, um, sensual sort of tone.

“Honestly, finding out that he murdered his bestie would be less surprising than learning he has”—dramatic eye twitch—“groupies. Total vom moment.”

Our Chuck? I think, licking my lips as I take a seat near the table. Glancing around the room, I realize I kind of like that idea, of being their Chuck. Weird, huh? I mean, they used to crack eggs down my shirt and dump jars of spiders on me, give me swirlies and lock me out of the dining room at Culinary Club. And now, these Student Council Boys feel like they could be my forever crew.

The next morning, I wake up in a puddle of drool with my hair stuck to my face, just like Anna in fucking Frozen. Unlike Anna in fucking Frozen, I have Micah McCarthy grinning at me and taking pictures with his phone. “If any of those end up on social media, I swear, I will destroy you.”

“I'm cool with it—as long as you get naked first,” I say, and Micah grins at me. It's one of those cocksure little grins of his, and it gives me chills all over. Did I just invite a dude to get naked in a communal bathroom, surrounded by classmates, and with my dad prowling the halls? Yes, yep, I totally did, and I'm not ashamed of it.

“You are not screwing anything up, Chuck Carson,” Micah says with a little laugh. There's a nervous warble to it that I've never heard before. I'm used to him being the confident, cocky one.

He cuts me off midsentence with a kiss that I can feel down to my toes. They curl against the pebbled floor as I grab onto the front of his robe and bunch the fabric up in quaking fingers. He tastes like peppermint and cherries. “Exactly why I had Church and Ranger watch over you while I snuck into the bathroom this morning to clean up.” He chuckles against my lips, and I grin back at him. “You're not the only one who's worried morning breath might fuck this up.” Micah pauses suddenly and pulls back, grabbing my hand and taking me with him.

“Would you like to explain to me what the two of you were doing in the restroom together?” I was going to seduce Micah, but then I got all nervous, and he wants to confess something to me, so … “Brushing our teeth?” I blurt, but it's almost a question and not particularly convincing.

“After I tell you this story, you might hate me for it.” “Impossible,” I say, exhaling and glancing over at him. I'm starting to learn that just because people make mistakes, it doesn't make them disposable. Even if the mistakes are big. If there's love there, and you care enough about another person, you work through it and you both become better people. I don't mean keeping toxic or abusive people in your life, but … Micah is human. Whatever he did to Tobias, he's a good person now, and that's what matters.

Our past isn't an anchor that keeps us tied to a shipwreck beneath the sea; it's the sail that we can collect wind in so that we can soar.

“As usual, she preferred Tobias over me.” One of my brows goes up, and I lean down, trying to get at eye level with Micah McCarthy. “What do you mean, as usual?” I ask, and then one of the koi fish slaps its tail on the surface of the water and splashes the tops of my feet, making me squeal. Micah grins and chuckles as he lifts his head up. “It's been like this forever,” he says, shrugging his shoulders like he doesn't care. I can tell that he does. “Our parents, our friends, girls. What do you do when there are two twins? You pick one. Tobias has always been the nicer of the two of us, the more relatable.” He lifts a brow and then glances my way. “Even you were attracted to him first.”

Tobias has a gentler demeanor, but I have to admit, there's something about Micah's sharp edges that I like. I don't prefer his twin over him. Hell, I don't prefer any of the Adamson Student Council boys over the others, and I have a feeling that by the end of the year, that could be a problem.

“But it’s understandable to wonder what-if. You just can't let it destroy you. We make choices every day that don’t seem important. Usually, they’re not. But every once in a while, something big happens. It’s impossible to predict; you’ll drive yourself crazy if you try.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to dump my ass and just date Tobias? I’d understand if you did.” I snort and bury my face in his robe. “You’re being stupid right now,” I murmur, watching the cherry blossom petals skirt around in the breeze. Lifting my head, I glance up at him and find his green eyes on mine. “You guys share girls now, remember?” This time, it’s his turn to snort back at me. “Well, not girls. Girl. Singular. One. Just me, Chuck the Micropenis.” Micah finally smiles as I take a step back.

“That he fucked up, he loves you, and he’s sorry,” I say, and Micah groans from behind me. “Not verbatim,” he mumbles, but I can already see Tobias softening slightly toward his twin.

“He admitted that he messed up, and he said if I wanted to date just you, he’d understand.” I test the waters to see Tobias’ reaction, and he frowns. “No.” Just that one word as he lifts his face up to glare at his brother. “That is not an option. You’re not getting out of this so easily. Apologize and admit you screwed up, and maybe I can apologize, too, and admit that I overreacted.” I flick my gaze between the two of them and then carefully and quietly try to back away to give them some space. Instead, they both flash matching grins at me. “Oh, no you don’t, Chuck Carson,”

“Losing Amber was awful. Thinking Spencer was dead just about killed me. Life is too short, too weird, and too shitty to stay pissed at my brother for wanting to woo our girlfriend.”

“We've only, uh, ever shared one girl. As in, we've only ever slept with one girl at the same time … once.” Tobias looks sheepish as hell, swiping his hand over his red-orange hair. “We just decided that we'd share girls after the thing with Amber. We work better as a unit.” “Not better,” I say, dropping my hands and the onigiri into my lap. “You're great as a unit, but I like you both individually, too.” I pause for a moment, and then cock my head to one side, finally processing what they've been saying. “One girl. You mean … us, the Pirates of the Caribbean …” “Just that,” Micah murmurs, shoving a full rice ball in his mouth so he doesn't have to keep talking. He looks up at the ceiling as I cock a brow. “Your bad boy façade is starting to crumple like tissue paper,” I snort,

“The matching yellow Lambos? The drag racing? Running over my ex-boyfriend with your car? The tattoos? Stealing the staff's keys? Fighting in illegal MMA fights?” “Whoa, whoa, whoa, first of all, it was Tobias that ran that cum stain Cody over with his car. Second … uh, second …” Micah flicks his belt aside and then reaches up to rub at his chin, eyes flashing with amusement. “Yeah, okay, fine, the bad boy label was fair.”

I've got identical twins on either side of me! I think with a little internal squeal, biting my lip as they both move down my chest and toward the bindings on my breasts. Two fit, tall, gorgeous, rich, funny … I cut myself off, so the list of adjectives doesn't get too ridiculous, but come on? How is this not every girl's dream?

I'm most definitely not a boy. No, I'm a secret girl, with my ruthless boys … my forever crew.

“You're so fucking tight, Chuck,” Micah whispers in my ear while on the other side, Tobias says, “Your lips taste like candy, Chuck.” Just a little sneak peek into their personalities, similar, but different enough that I couldn't imagine giving up either.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Micah whispers, thrusting into my grip as he bites my ear. Tobias tries to push my hand away, but I won't let him, taking a firmer grip on his body and working him until he's doing the same thing as his twin.

“Do you know how many dirty, rotten things I want to do to you right now?” “Um, I can take a wild guess based on how many dirty, rotten things I want to do right back to you,”

“Crap, shit, fuck.” I chew my bottom lip and wonder if I can't fit in a quick shower before I— Oh, nope, wait, there he is. Storming toward me. Face is … that funny purple-red color. My mouth twitches.

Archie’s nostrils flare and his hands curl into fists by his sides. Is this it, the moment he finally snaps? I wonder. It might be hard to understand why, exactly, I’d want my father to go into a rage, but it’s actually pretty simple. He rarely shows much emotion, so little that at times I wonder if he truly cares about me. But if he got mad, then I’d actually get to see that he has feelings, that he does love me.

He just stares back at me, surrounded by the Student Council, and then he snaps. For the first time in his fucking life, Archibald Carson loses it. He reaches out and snags me by the upper arm in a tight grip, making me cry out. “No.” That one word from Ranger, booming like a thundercloud. He steps between us, breaking my father's grip on me. “I won't allow you to touch her like that.”

“Are you ashamed?” he asks, reaching out to stroke some of my hair away from my forehead. “About being engaged to me?” “Me?!” I choke out, lifting a brow and trying not to tremble under that blindingly brilliant amber gaze of his. “I figured you were the one who’d be ashamed. Wouldn’t you be better off marrying some heiress or something?”

“This may come out as arrogant,” Church says, and I cock a brow, crossing my arms over my chest. “May come out as arrogant? Well, since most of the things you say are peppered with arrogance, I'm just going to assume that it's bad.” I nod my chin and then gesture up at him. “Alright, go ahead and say it. Come on, Churchie.”

I'm nervous right now. Why am I nervous? I mean, this is just Church Montague, President of Adamson All-Boys Academy, and prince of the school, the richest person in Connecticut, and my future fake-husband. Hah. Hahahaha. Nothing at all to be nervous about.