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

by C.M. Stunich

“Charlotte, do you think I want you to suffer?” he asks, dropping his hands in his lap and studying my face. “Um, yes?” “Charlotte Farren,” he groans, looking like he’d rather take a long walk off a short pier than keep talking to me right now. “Eric Warren is a dangerous man, and you have no business traveling to a foreign country with a bunch of boys that you barely know—” “I’ve known them for over a year,” I correct, “and we’ve been through a lot together. We almost died in those tunnels; we all grieved Spencer together. They took me to Disneyland. Why can’t you just accept that they’re in my life and they probably will be for a long, long time.”

“The children,” Dad begins, emphasizing that awful word in a way that only he could, “were discussing a trip to London over fall break. As you can imagine—” “London? Oh, yes, we have a flat in Hyde Park. That sounds like a lovely way to spend break.” I realize two things in that moment: Church’s mother is beyond nice, and she’s also beyond privileged. She doesn’t know the meaning of the word no.

“It’s your wedding dress!” Mrs. Montague says, draping it across her arms and holding it out to me. “It’s the same one I wore when I was seventeen years old.” She sighs and looks up at the ceiling, like she’s already caught up in a vivid daydream of David Montague as a young man. “It’s bad luck for a groom to see the dress before the wedding,” Church says, looking slightly paler than usual.

Slowly, I push open the door and shuffle into the foyer. Elizabeth slaps her hands over her mouth while my dad turns a shade of red that hasn’t yet been identified in nature. He looks like a vat of cranberry sauce. “Charlotte,” Spencer breathes, his jaw tightening as he looks me over. “You’re beautiful.” “So cute,” Ranger murmurs, closing his eyes against the sight, a slight pink color tinging his skin. “You look … good, Chuck,” the twins say, blinking in surprise, like they’re not quite sure how to react. The only one who stays silent is Church. “Well, son, don’t you have something to say to your bride?” his mother chastises, giving him a very pointed look. Those amber eyes are locked on my face, but I’m having trouble discerning what, exactly, it is that Church might be thinking. Is he disappointed in me? Do I look like the bride he’s always wanted? Why am I feeling so freaking self-conscious all of a sudden? Slowly, carefully, he opens his mouth to speak. I cut him off. “I … need to grab something,” I say, and Church pauses, giving me a curious sort of look.

Church steps into the room behind me. He closes and locks the door, looking down at me with a brow raised in questioning. “Miss Carson,” he says, almost like a soft chastisement that makes me wrinkle my nose. “You ran from me.” “I wasn’t running from you,” I protest weakly, looking away toward the miraculously clean space under my bed. Never in my life have I managed to keep a clean room, but Church tidies it up for us. He says he likes to do it, and I can’t decide if he’s full of shit or if it really does please his OCD or something. “I just had to get something.”

“Is that it? You think that by running away, you’ll protect me?” I look up, from the ring to his face, watching me without judgment, just a hint of concern glinting in his eyes. “I don’t want to unpack … all of this,” I say, gesturing at my chest to indicate the strange mix of feelings resting there.

“Are you afraid you’ll hurt my feelings?” I shake my head, shrug, and then nod, just a mess of contradictory body language. “Do you believe I actually have them now? Or am I still a possible psychopath waiting in the wings?” I snort.

“But at least you guys wouldn’t be in danger,” I mumble, wondering why my stupid heart won’t stop beating so fast. “And then we wouldn’t have to lie to your family about getting married.” Church releases my hands and leans back on the bed, his palms flat against the comforter, ankles crossed. “You’re very concerned with our well-being, aren’t you?” he asks, but I don’t know how to respond to that. I am. I’m a million times more worried about them than I am myself. “Are you afraid of getting married? Or maybe you just don’t like the idea of marriage?”

“But, I guess … if my parents didn’t make it? Why would we? Maybe the way I feel about you guys is just crazy teen stuff. Besides, that’s another problem with marriage, right? I can only marry one of you.” The smile that takes over Church’s mouth surprises me. “Only legally, but there are other ways to be committed.” I blink back at him in shock as his face takes on this determined edge. “Not to sound like an asshole, but maybe your parents didn’t care about each other the way I care about you.” Whoa. Far from sounding like an asshole, his statement floors me. He may as well have admitted that he feels like we’re written in the stars or something.

sometimes forever means just for now.”

“You really like me, Church? I mean, I know you said you did at the hot springs, but … you shouldn’t have to be engaged to a girl you don’t want.” “Who said I’m engaged to a girl I don’t want?” he replies,

He’s holding back. I’m sure of it. But why? It doesn’t even occur to me that he might be just as scared as I am, just as unsure, but just as in love. Love. That’s come up a lot lately, hasn’t it? “You’d actually marry me? The weird, dorky poor girl with a maid for a mom and a teacher for a dad?” “You know my secret,” he says, his face taking on just a hint of sadness. “My biological mother was a maid, too. We’re no different, you and me.” Church’s long fingers tease the waistband of my panties, causing me to suck in a sharp breath. He’s avoided touching me for so long, and now I can see why. Each place our skin comes into contact tingles. It’s like there are these little bolts of energy darting across my skin. “I’d be honored to marry you—but only if you want me, too.” “I do …” I whisper, but the way I trail off gives him pause. Church stops kissing me, looking down into my face with a sweet mixture of frustration and longing. “I want them, too.”

“What are you waiting for?” I ask, sweating and doing my best not to writhe beneath him. But I’m desperate for him to touch me. Desperate. “I’m savoring the moment,” he replies easily, mouth sliding to the side in a devilish little smirk.

“I don’t mind sharing, in general, but certain things are just for me. This is one of them.” “You really are an arrogant ass pig, aren’t you? And for a second there, I actually thought you were nice.” The nightstand drawer slides open and out come the condoms. “You thought I was nice?” Church asks, smirking. “That’s your mistake.” “Did I really just … agree to like … marry you or something?”

“Why’s that?” he asks, looking down at me. “Because I wasn’t even sure if you liked me for the past year.” “We all have our secrets, Chuck,”

“Church,” I moan, trying to pull my arms down by my sides. But I’m trapped, and not just physically. My heart’s trapped, too, stuck right here in Adamson Academy.

“But … you’re really good at it,” I choke out, breathing hard, my arms burning but that ardent heat in my lower belly burning more. “I read too much,” Church says, gesturing at his manga stack on the nightstand. “Lots of hentai,” he whispers, putting his mouth up against my forehead. Hentai is Japanese porn, by the way. “The occasional romance. You know what my favorite genre is?” “Am I about to find out?” I look over at him, still breathing hard, still tied up. “Bully romance,” he says with a smile. “I like to see the bad guys get redeemed in the end.”

“You. You are the bully, Chuck Carson. You knocked my project into the water, and then refused to apologize. When we asked you to help fix your mistake, you acted like we were in the wrong. So, you’re the bully in this scenario, trying to regain my trust because you’re madly in love with me.” “Is that what’s happening here?”

“He uses his cock, his tongue, and his fingers to bring me to pleasure over and over again, until I feel like I’m breaking apart. And then I let him put me back together with his body. That’s when I knew I belonged to him—fully and completely.”

“So you want to belong to me, fully and completely?” I ask, getting a bit of that snark back in my voice. Hah! Take that, Church, big old dominant douche-canoe. “That works for me.” “No, Charlotte Carson. You might be the bully, but I’m the boss.” He smiles

I’m still recovering from the embarrassment of the other day, you know, when the others found me and Church cuddled up with a wrinkled wedding dress. I’d just as soon stay over here.

This is never how I saw my life going, but … I like the direction it’s taking. I like being engaged to Church, and baking naked with Ranger, watching gay porn with Spencer (we totally did once), drag racing with Micah, practicing martial arts with Tobias.

“I like this kind of shit.” “No, you want to like this kind of shit,” Spencer says, turning his phone around and flashing a video of border collie puppies herding ducklings. “But in reality, this is your thing, man. Just accept it.” Ranger slaps the phone away from his face and pretends not to be interested, but there’s that twinkle in his eyes that he just can’t hide.

“My bra is showing, isn’t it?” I ask, thinking of that scene in Mean Girls where the teacher tries to pull her sweater off and ends up taking her shirt along with it. Yep, that’s what’s happening to me now. “The one with the see-through lace and bows?” “That’s the one,” Spencer says, pushing the sweatshirt back in place and then kissing me quick on the lips as the twins high five each other and continue on up the path. “I’m going to murder those fuckers,”

My breathing quickens up just a tad, and Spencer notices. He’s attentive like that. I bet he’d make a good dad one day. I freeze up like a deer caught in the headlights. “Are you okay?” he whispers, trying not to interrupt our tour guide’s enthusiastic speech. “I’m not having kids until I’m thirty,” I blurt, and Spencer gives me the weirdest look known to man before bursting out laughing. “Aww, Chuck-let,” he says, doubling over with laughter as the others glance back to see what all the fuss is about.

I’m in the back of the group with Spencer, trying to avoid his teasing about all the babies he’s going to give me,

They followed us all the way here, all the way to a different country. I mean, I knew they could and would follow me, but this? This is next level.

“This is so not my job,” one of the hoodie-dicks growls, and it’s definitely a male voice, but not one that I recognize. Trust me: I’ve heard Mark’s irritating little quips enough times to know what he’d sound like.

If I get into that car, and it takes off, I’m dead. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

“Drive,” the bleeding man commands, shoving me out of the way and heading for the door. But if he thought I’d be easy to subdue, he’s wrong. I’m not a superhero, but I’m a little scrappy. Shit, I really should’ve been Scrappy-Doo for Halloween, huh?

He doesn't hesitate either, throwing a punch into the side of the man’s head that makes a cracking sound. I can hear it, even from all the way over here. Damn. My friends are as ruthless as my enemies, aren't they? Ranger doesn't stop punching the guy until he goes still.

When the mask comes off, I find myself … slightly less shocked than I should be. “Hello Mark,” Church says, and the way those words come out of his mouth … I’d be scared if I were Mark fucking Grandam.

“Get off of you?” Ranger asks, his voice this cloud of darkness that makes me shiver. “You just attacked our girlfriend, and you want me to get the hell off of you?” “It was a practical joke,” Mark sneers, as if he’s got the moral high ground here.

“I’m not surprised,” Church says, looking back at me, Spencer, and the twins. “But I am intrigued. What does this move mean, exactly?” “That they’re on a timeline?” I suggest,

That’s when I notice it, his split lower lip. My gaze widens, but I’m clearly not the only one who sees it. Eric is wearing the same injury that I gave the man in the limo. Ranger’s shoulders tighten, and his mouth flattens out. “How are you?” Eric asks, but not like he particularly cares. More like he has no soul. “Just fine, Dad,” Ranger replies, tossing his apron aside and stepping out the door. Let’s just say, I don’t sleep very well those next few nights.

“Hello, Charlotte,” Aster says, beaming brightly as she eyes me and Ranger together. “Church, I hope you know that your girl here’s got a side thing going with this one.” “We’re a polyamorous group, thank you for noticing,” he says, but the words might as well be fuck you and the horse you rode in on. “It’s not like the thing you’ve got going, slinking around and screwing Mark behind Selena’s back.” The quip works and Aster’s face flames before she marches around us, crunching through the snow with the other two Everly transfer students behind her. “That was … reasonably harsh,” I say as the twins grin. “We put condoms in her locker, too.” They each grab one of my arms and turn us back toward the main building. “We figured she might think Selena put them there,” Tobias adds. “Oh, and also, we hate her,”

“Part of me thinks we should try to win the elections through fair play,” Church begins, glancing up at the curved stone ceilings above us. “The rest of me knows that if Mark is involved with the Fellowship, then I’d rather die than hand him my school.” “So, let’s do this, our way,” Spencer says, sliding his phone from his pocket. “I have an idea.”

particularly since one of my boyfriends called Aster out for having an affair with Selena’s boyfriend, two of my other boyfriends stuffed her locker with contraceptives, and the silver-haired one is actively plotting against her behind the scenes. The fifth and final boyfriend decides to wait until our Culinary Club meeting on Tuesday to piss her off.

Spencer rolls his eyes and exchanges a long, studying look with the twins. Surely, they’re up to no good, but there’s also a very good chance that Aster Hayes is guilty, so … fair is fair.

Sometimes, we have to face our own problems. And sometimes, those problems turn into blessings.

“Nice of you to show up,” Dad says, pausing next to my seat and looking down at me like I'm the biggest disappointment of his entire life. “I'd almost forgotten that you attended this school.” “That's on you,” I quip back, crossing my arms over my unbound chest, and shrugging. “You're the one that said you didn't want to treat me like a daughter anymore.” “That's not what I said,” he bites out and then sighs, pausing to run his hand over his thinning hair. “You're misinterpreting my words for your own gain, behavior that’s rather childish, especially for a woman who’s engaged and planning to marry.”