Always Crew by Tijan
BREN
“Hey.”
I was sitting on the perch in my room, overlooking the backyard. Turning, Cross was coming in, the music from downstairs blaring louder. It muted as he closed the door, coming toward me. He flipped on the fan for extra sound, and suddenly we were in our private sanctuary. The party sounds were still there, but much quieter now as he moved behind me, sliding in. Lifting his legs, he put me between them and folded me back against his chest.
I leaned all the way back, almost feeling lazy now.
Rolling my head, I went back to watching outside.
Jordan and Zellman had the bonfire going, each with a girl on their laps. There were a bunch of others sitting with them, drinking, laughing, and flirting. A lot of flirting.
A part of me was perplexed, because not four hours ago we’d shared words with Cross’ brother. Zellman punched him, and Blaise was now one of the guys sitting at the bonfire, Aspen on his lap. She was folded in, her head against his chest, and I was pretty sure she’d fallen asleep an hour into the party. Blaise hadn’t moved an inch, stroking her back almost the entire time.
I just shook my head, watching Zellman now laughing at something Blaise said.
I commented, “How the fuck did that happen?”
Cross’ arm tightened around me. I felt his laugh behind me. “At this rate, who the hell knows.”
We couldn’t stand the guy this summer, then we were reluctantly inviting him over. Words had been shared multiple times. Zellman hit him. And he was down there, sharing a beer, and making not only Zellman, but Jordan, laugh.
“And who are the guys?”
Cross sighed into my ear. “Jordan said he and Aspen ran into them when they were coming back. They’re on Blaise’s soccer team. I’m pretty sure that’s who Blaise wants to be Zeke’s friends, not the frat assholes he hangs with now.”
I moved my head, tipping it so I could see him. “He told you that?”
Cross shrugged. “Not in so many words, but I know he either wants Harper out of the frat house or he wants Zeke out.”
Huh.
That was it.
Just, huh. I had no other thoughts or feelings, just always perplexed when it came to Cross’ brother, mixed with mild to severe irritation.
“Your brother’s like a skin rash. He won’t go away. Then he’ll go away, and we’ll be like, ‘where’d he go?’”
Cross laughed, his head dipping as he dropped a kiss to my shoulder. “No. Blaise is not a skin rash. He’s just straight up hives. The more stressed I get, the worse he becomes.”
Hives. It fit.
“Jordan and Zellman seem to like his teammates, though.”
“I know.” He sounded disappointed.
We sat there for a bit in silence. It felt nice, hearing the soft sounds of the party now, watching the flicker of the bonfire below, and somehow I felt full inside. Full of life, memories, or just family. I wasn’t going to question it too much. I felt good. I was going with that.
Then Cross’ arm tightened again, and my stomach took a dip.
His chest tensed behind me, and my stomach really took a dip.
If Cross was going to whisk me away from the window for the bed, he wouldn’t have tensed. He would’ve just done it, and then landed on top of me. This, he was preparing himself to tell me something, and I knew innately that it wasn’t something I wanted to hear.
I was going to take a guess. “I can only think of one reason my employers would keep me out of the offices.”
Cross froze behind me.
“And I’ve given it some thought, but I’m wondering was it only my father they had on a wall, or was I up there, too?”
It’s the only explanation that made sense, and why Cross kept me out and why he called Channing first.
Cross cursed behind me.
I was right.
Forget churning, my stomach fell out.
I knew, but… I’d been hoping I’d been wrong.
Cross filled me in on everything, and afterwards, I just sat there. I couldn’t move. Think. Feel. Nothing. Because I knew. I knew.
My dad. This was all about my dad.
It was finally time that I dealt with my dad.
