Fallen Crest Campout: A Fallen Crest/Crew crossover novella

by Tijan

Channing grunted, returning to Heather’s back. His hand went to her hip. “You guys been there the whole time?” He was eyeing the alcohol. “You been drinking those the whole time too?”

  Cross moved ahead, his arm grazing against Bren’s. “We were wondering if we could join the party or not.”

  Again. I noted the lack of acknowledgement about the alcohol.

  The other two had noticed what Nate and Matteo were doing. The shorter one hit the taller one, nodding to the guys, and soon they broke off, going over to them. “Are you guys doing fortyhands?”

  Nate straightened up. “No, because that’d be dumb and immature, and Matteo and I are both adults. We’re mature…”

  The shorter one smirked. “So you’re doing twentyhands?”

  “Exactly. I’m going to have to piss in five minutes anyway.”

  Cross and Bren watched the exchange before returning to where they’d been hiding.

  A second later, they came back carrying a picnic table. Their other two friends went over and helped bring it over to Nate and Matteo, and then the four climbed on and got comfortable.

  Two of them sat on the bottom bench part, taking the tape from Matteo to stick their own bottles to their hands. The taller one offered the tape to Cross, who shook his head.

  “Not a fucking chance, Jordan.”

  “We’re not going to finish this. It’ll make us sick, but for a while. You know?” Jordan grinned. “I was thinking we should have a crew circle tonight.”

  A slow grin appeared on Cross’ face. “Yeah, maybe.” He jerked his head up, indicating the rest of us. “But not in front of these people.”

  Jordan nodded.

  Heather bit her lip, her eyes skating from Bren to Taylor and settling on me. “I thought there’d be fireworks tonight, and I’m not talking about the Fourth of July kind.”

  “I did too.”

  Channing leaned into her. “I’m thinking the married couples are going to be turning in soon.” His eyes were on Logan, who had pulled Taylor into their camper.

  We could hear their raised voices, though we couldn’t make out the words, and then the camper started rocking.

  Well. Goodnight, then.

  Mason shook his head.

  Channing started chuckling.

  A moan came from inside the camper, and that was loud enough that everyone else heard it. Conversation stopped on the other side of the campfire, and Jordan pulled his phone out. No word was spoken. No request made or suggestion given, but music filled the air in the next moment. When another moan came over the music, he just turned the volume up.

  “Yep. The night’s drama is finito.”

  Heather figured right.

  We didn’t all leave right away.

  Mason sat, and I was tugged into his lap.

  Channing and Heather mirrored us.

  We talked with Nate and Matteo, and the group of four seemed content to do their own thing, and once in a while joining in with our conversation.

  Logan and Taylor never joined us again.

  10

  Samantha

  We stayed up around the campfire until two in the morning.

  We talked. We told stories. And we laughed, a lot.

  At one point Zellman (the shorter one from Bren’s crew) asked Matteo about his football prospects for next year, and a hush fell over the group.

  “Z!” Bren hissed.

  Jordan laughed.

  Zellman didn’t seem to give a care about what he asked.

  Cross was eyeing the rest of us, a wariness coming over him, but it was the same wariness that I felt sometimes before I knew a fight might break out. Normal Sam and I’d feel the same sensation. Drunk Sam was distinctly disappointed because nothing popped off from that question.

  Instead of replying, Matteo had looked at Mason. “I’m sorry for being an asshole again. Me not playing and you playing is not on you. That’s my issue.” A beat again. He was grimacing. “I have to say, I was jealous. I’m sorry.”

  Mason had leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and dipped his head to Matteo. “Appreciate that. Respect.”

  Matteo had then turned to Zellman. “And I’m not sure yet, but there are teams asking for me. I’ll see what pans out.”

  Nate’s grin turned sloppy and he raised the taped bottle, pretending to wipe the back of his hand over his forehead. “Thank God we didn’t have to break out the sauna and hot coals for a session of Truth Time. That would’ve been embarrassing. I would’ve spilled about a kissing experience with a girl in seventh grade. The term helicopter tongue does not apply to French kissing.” He burped, his cheeks all red. “And I have no idea why I decided to share that right now with you all…” His gaze lingered on Channing’s sister and her friends, “...who are slightly less than strangers.”

  Zellman blinked, trying to focus, and leaned forward. “I’m glad you did.” He sounded very serious. “Do you have a sister that has weird social skills?”

  Bren and Cross shared a look.

  Channing was suddenly frowning.

  Nate frowned right along with him.

  Matteo had then started hiccupping, which had his massive upper body twitching. It was almost violent, and it caused his chair to rattle each time as well. What was left in his bottle spilled out, and he was scrambling to save his booze at the same time he kept hiccupping. The rest of the group started laughing, and from then on, we were mostly laughing until we’d all headed to our beds.

  The weird moment passed and no one brought it up again.

  Heather had nudged me at one point, and I followed her gaze.

  Bren and Cross were sneaking off from the group, and I had to marvel at how stealthy they were. Their two other friends had no clue. They were quiet, taking a couple steps back, and they blended in with the trees almost immediately. Skills. Serious skills there.

  The next to go were Heather and Channing.

  Mason and I left right after, but even when we went into our camper, we could hear the guys still talking for a long while. We fell asleep to their muted conversation, but now I was awake—awake to find my man was rising above me, then moving inside of me, and I was gone.

  Pleasure slammed through me.

  I wound my legs around Mason’s hips, moving with him.

  I rode him as he rode me, and he trailed kisses over my chin, his mouth finding mine, opening over mine.

  “Fuck, Sam,” he groaned into my ear, beginning to move a little faster. A little harder.

  I was right there with him.

  My body strained. I needed more. I always needed more.

  This man, my shelter, my home—just mine. All mine.

  Thousands loved him. His name was spoken on nationally televised networks, but he was mine.

  And he was Maddie’s father.

  The three of us. We had created a family, and I hoped one day to have more children. I wound my arms around his shoulders, tightened my legs, and lifted my body to meet his until with a quiet growl (as quiet as those could be) he came inside of me.

  I wasn’t far behind, and once I’d finished, Mason raised himself up.

  He didn’t pull out or move off to the side. He moved his hand between us and worked me all over again until I exploded in his arms for a second time.

  When I came down from my high, Mason was curled behind me, pressing the softest and most tender kisses over my back, my shoulders, my nape, down my spine, and back up.

  I was half drowsing, feeling lazy, feeling satiated, and a hundred percent feeling happy. I ran my nail gently up and down the arm he had curved in front of me.

  “Do you feel better about you and Matteo now?” I asked in a quiet voice.

  He paused his kisses. “Yeah.” His arms tightened around me. “I knew he’d get picked up. It’s just a matter of time, but him saying that tonight helped.”

  “You think Logan and Taylor are okay?”

  He paused, and I felt him tensing behind me. “Why are you asking?”

&nbs
p; I peered at him. “I don’t know. Just a feeling I got at moments today. I mean, Taylor didn’t seem out of the ordinary, but I don’t know. It’s just there. I feel like something’s going on with them.”

  “I don’t know. He’s been quiet a bit more lately, but I just figured that was law school. He said it’s more intense than it was earlier in the year.” Mason bent to my shoulder, kissing there.

  I picked up his hand, lacing our fingers together. “I think it’s the mama bear in me. I’m becoming Malinda. I want to make sure everyone is happy. You think everyone is happy?”

  His lips moved over my skin as he spoke. “I think everything will work out. Nate’s getting his shit sorted out. Matteo will get picked up by a team. Logan will share when he needs to. Or Taylor will say something to you too. If something is going on, they’ll be fine. He needs her, and he knows that. Heather and Channing seem good. As for Channing’s sister and her group, who the fuck knows with them. They kept talking about some Zeke guy and looking at me weird.”

  “Zeke?”

  Instead of answering, Mason’s hand moved between our bodies once more, and he found my spot, and I was a writhing mess before long—a sensual and very contented writhing mess. Then he moved over me once more.

  We didn’t get much sleep the rest of the night.

  Mason asked if I wanted to try leapfrogging with him.

  11

  Samantha

  Logan had driven into the nearest town the next morning. He came back with the whole SUV loaded with donuts, fresh coffee, breakfast sandwiches, pancakes, and every egg order anyone could think up.

  After everyone was full, we began to pack up to leave.

  “So no big drama this trip,” Heather said.

  She moved to straddle the picnic bench where I was washing some of the dishes we’d used.

  “Nope. No big drama.”

  She glanced at Logan and Taylor’s camper. They’d been inside it for the last thirty minutes.

  “Was it me or was Logan quieter than normal?”

  I lowered the plate I was washing. “Yes, but Mason thinks it’ll all be fine.”

  “They were lovey-dovey this morning.”

  They had been. Taylor sat in Logan’s lap as they ate.

  I nodded, piling the coffee mugs into a bin we’d take back with us. “Everyone seems like they had a good time. Did Bren and her crew?”

  A ghost of a smile flashed on Heather’s face. “You keep saying crew. You know that they actually are in a crew?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Say again?”

  “You never say group. You’ve been saying crew this whole time.”

  “You said they’re actually in a crew? What’s that mean?”

  “It was a system put in place in Roussou because of you.”

  Now both my eyebrows went up. “Say again?”

  She laughed. “Yeah. ’Cause of you and Broudou.”

  “Brett?”

  “No. Budd—with, you know, what he wanted to do. Channing rallied and got a crew together to go against Broudou.”

  I didn’t know how to process that. I’d heard about the crew system, but it had never been fully explained to me.

  Bren and her friends emerged from their camper then. Their arms were full of sleeping bags, blankets, and bags.

  I set aside what dishes were left. “Did everything get worked out before? From you know…”

  There’d been an arrest. Mason and Logan had gotten involved, or more specifically, their father had gotten involved.

  Heather frowned. “Channing didn’t tell you guys what really went down?”

  I shook my head. “No, but I assumed everything was fine.”

  “Yeah. It worked out.” A thoughtful look entered her eyes before she shook her head, clearing whatever she’d been thinking. “I think it’s all good. I hope, anyways.”

  And that was the end of it because Mason and Channing were heading over.

  They’d been packing up the vehicles, but as if they’d practiced it, they now rounded the table and dropped down next to their women.

  “Hi.” I smiled at Mason.

  He reflected my look and leaned in. “Hi.” Then his lips were on mine.

  I heard Channing greeting Heather in the same way.

  “What’s the plan after this?” Nate asked as he slid onto the bench next to Mason.

  He propped an elbow on the table, leaning forward to face the rest of us.

  “Are you and Matteo interested in heading to Fallen Crest?” Mason asked. He nodded to Channing. “We’re all going back to check in with family, and then we were going to head to Manny’s tonight.”

  Nate seemed to mull that over before he bobbed his head up and down. “Yeah. I can do that. I wanna swing by the house anyways.”

  Mason and I shared a look.

  A year ago, Nate would’ve meant our house. Even six months ago, he would’ve meant our place. But now, we both knew he meant his family’s house.

  Things had definitely changed.

  Mason seemed to want to say something, but after a pause, he turned to Channing. “That’s the plan?”

  Channing had his arm around Heather’s shoulders as she rested against his chest. He lowered his head slowly. “I’ll round up the kids, and we’ll take off. Six tonight?” He squeezed Heather’s shoulder as he directed the question to her.

  “Sounds good.” She nodded. “Brandon will be happy to see you guys.”

  Nate’s eyes lit up. “Brandon and Gus.”

  Heather groaned, “Don’t talk about Gus. He’s probably already drunk on the barstool as we’re talking. And that’s if Brandon sent him home after closing.”

  But Nate laughed. “I like Gus.”

  Heather retorted, “You’re the only one then.”

  Nate didn’t care. He just laughed harder.

  After that, we disbanded to finish whatever was needed. Nate put the call in for the company to come back and get the campers. We loaded the vehicles, and an hour later, we all left caravan-style.

  The drive back was relatively quiet.

  Taylor and Logan were in the back.

  We were an hour from Fallen Crest when it happened.

  “Mom and Dad fucked us up,” Logan said from the back.

  The air shifted.

  I felt everything dropping, becoming more grounded.

  Mason looked in the rearview mirror toward his brother, but when I turned to look too, Logan was gazing out the window. Taylor watched him, and he gripped her hand as if it were his lifesaver. But his voice—I’d never get the sound of it out of my head, raw and guttural.

  I’d never heard Logan speak like that.

  “I’ve not thought about kids—having them or dealing with them,” he continued. “Maddie’s different. I loved her before she was born, and I know, I know that the same will happen for my own kids someday.” He looked at Mason now, who briefly met his brother’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Dad was an absent, cheating asshole. Mom was an absent, alcoholic bitch. How the fuck are you going to be a dad?”

  Mason was quiet, his eyes intense. He flexed his hands over the steering wheel before he replied, his voice gravelly. “I’ll be the best fucking dad I never had. That’s what I’ll do, and FYI—there’s a year between us, but I took care of you.”

  Logan nodded. “That’s my point. I didn’t. Growing up how we did, whatever—we took care of whoever was trying to hurt us. We looked out for the people we loved, but in college and now law school, I’ve not been thinking about that way of living. I’ve just been focused on school, whether I want to work for the company or look for a different law firm, how I can try to make junior partner as fast as I can. Spend as much time with you guys, with Maddie, with Nate and Matteo. That’s been my life.”

  Mason glanced at me.

  Where was this coming from? I looked at Taylor, but she seemed confused.

  He swung his gaze to Taylor, his eyes haunted. “I don’t know why it’s hitting me today, but I ne
ed you, Taylor. Not that I didn’t know before, but this is different. I don’t know. Things just feel different right now. Jesus. I need you. Mase used to reel me in, but he’s got a family now. I’m on my own. Nate doesn’t do it. He doesn’t know how to do it, and that’s your job. You’ve taken it up, always knowing me more than I know myself, loving me more than I deserve. I’m an asshole.”

  A sheen of tears glistened in Taylor’s eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. “Stop, Logan,” she whispered. “I’ve been worried. I knew something was going on with you, but I didn’t push. Or I was going to push later when we were alone, but Logan. You love me and you take care of me just fine.”

  Her voice dropped even lower, but we could still hear.

  “You know I have things in me. What happened to my mom changed me inside, but you made me alive. You made me love. You helped me become me, and don’t ever think about you or me. I ground you, but you make me come alive. That’s how we are.”

  He leaned closer to her, dropping his voice.

  They were both murmuring quieter and I sat forward, giving them privacy.

  My phone buzzed just as I noticed Mason watching me.

  He turned back to the road, but reached over and laced our fingers together.

  Not much needed to be said.

  We’d all been through hell and back.

  We were in a different stage of our lives. Marriage. Children. Careers. Responsibilities got heavier, more serious. People depended on you. Lives depended on you. Logan’s fears made sense to me. I’d had Analise growing up, and there’d been a lot of moments when I worried I’d be just like her. But I wasn’t. Never. There’d not been one moment where I felt myself slipping into what I had seen growing up.

  I was not Analise. Mason already wasn’t, and Logan would not be Helen or James.

  Everything would be just fine.

  Feeling my phone buzz again, I opened it up. It was a picture of my little girl.

  I scrolled through, seeing two recent uploads. In one she had passed out in my dad’s arms, a limp noodle, and in the other one she was crawling on the floor, with flour everywhere! Flour in her hair, her hands, on her legs, and she was so happy. I could hear her squeal when that picture was taken.