Fearless (The Privileged of Pembroke High #5)

by Ivy Fox

  Rome turns his attention to me the second he hears my bogus cough.

  “How about you give us some privacy? I’d like to speak with my sister alone,” he says, throwing me his shark grin.

  “Of course. Just want to say that my parents are fully on-board with Elle staying for as long as she wants.”

  “And does that offer come with a guest room, or will my baby sister be sleeping with you every night?”

  “Roman!”

  “Rome!” the two girls shout at him in tandem.

  But I don’t mind his crudeness. Especially considering the way Saint and I both claimed every inch of her body last night and a few times this morning.

  “Elle is family, Rome,” I start, squaring my shoulders. “Actually, she’s more than that. She’s my whole heart. I understand that you want to protect her and that you will always want to look out for her. I’m the same way. I’d rather die than hurt a single hair on her head. But unless you’ve been living under a rock, then you already know Elle is very capable of taking care of herself. She will never be bullied into doing something she doesn’t want to. If she decides that her place is with me, then you have to accept it.”

  His golden eyes, so much like Elle’s, pin me to the spot.

  “You talk a good game, but I know you and my sister haven’t been seeing eye to eye for a while now. She doesn’t need someone who is fickle in their attention. She needs an anchor. Someone who will be there when the chips fall. Because I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but shit kind of has a habit of following us Graysons around. Are you telling me you’re the man who will build her up when the world wants to tear her down?”

  “I am,” I rebuke with determination. “I’ve been doing it since I was six years old, and I’ll keep on doing it until I’m way past eighty.”

  “Maybe. Maybe you are.” Rome rubs at his chin. “Doesn’t change the fact that I’d prefer to have my sister living under my roof for a little while longer. Especially considering what we’re all going through.”

  “Rome, stop,” Elle calls out from behind him, not wanting to rehash why she fled from their home in the first place.

  Knowing that her mother’s death is still too raw a wound, I decide to cut my losses with Rome for the time being.

  “I’ll leave you to talk it out in private. I’ll be in my room if you need me.” I offer Elle and Holland a tender smile and walk back to my room, where an anxious Santiago must be.

  I barely step inside when he grabs me by the throat and slams me against the wall.

  “So? What the fuck is going on? Is he taking her home? If that’s what he thinks he’s doing, then I’m going to march right in there and tell him he can take her over my dead body.”

  I slap his hands away and push forcefully on his bare chest so he can take a step back.

  “Settle the fuck down. It’s like you don’t know Elle at all. Rome isn’t taking her anywhere. If she says she’s staying, then no matter how much Rome bitches and moans, she won’t budge, and he knows it.”

  “True. Princess is as stubborn as they come.”

  “Tell me about it,” I reply gruffly, running my fingers through my hair.

  Saint glowers at me, arms crossed over his chest.

  “What? What are you staring at me like that for?”

  “Is that why you’re pissed? Because Rome is here, or is there some other reason you’ve got your panties in a twist?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Yeah, you do. Before she woke up this morning, you had that same glare in your eye.”

  “Again, I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re going on about.”

  He scoffs, running his tongue over his front teeth.

  “It must eat you alive that I’m here,” he begins, my hands instantly curling into fists. “You wanted her all to yourself, and now you have to share her with me. Me! The guy you hate with every fiber in you.”

  “Shut up, Saint. Don’t fucking ruin this by opening your mouth.”

  “Ruin what? Us? Is there even anything to ruin anymore?” he asks, taking one step closer to me while I retreat a step.

  “You know what I’m talking about. We just got each other back. Don’t go throwing rocks on a glass roof. If you do, you won’t be the only one left bleeding.”

  “So what? If it’s all for show, we might as well end it here. We both love her. There’s no denying that. And she loves us. We can’t hide from that fact either. But that doesn’t mean either one of us should be forced into this relationship. If you want out, just say it.”

  “And then what?” I whisper-yell, trying to keep my voice down from anyone that might pass my bedroom door.

  My heart twists something fierce when there is a hint of hurt in his eyes. I push past it and stare at him with a deep-rooted scowl on my face.

  “Tell me what your big plan is if I want out? Because now that I’ve got her, no way in hell will I let her go. Never again.”

  “Me neither,” he growls with the same level of disdain.

  “So, what’s your plan then? Share her like she’s some kind of timeshare in the Caribbean? Is that your plan? I get to have her one week, and then it’s your turn? Is that how you see this going? Because newsflash, asshole, whatever you come up with has to be for the long haul. She’s our endgame, which means giving her the life she’s always dreamed about. A home, family, kids, the whole fucking shebang, Saint. Now tell me, how the fuck can that happen if she’s supposed to split her time between us?!”

  His glower on me feels like little knife wounds cutting my skin, but still, I persist.

  “So, tell me. What’s the big fucking plan?”

  “I don’t know!” he roars, pushing me against the wall.

  “And you know why you don’t? Because you’ve been thinking about the dynamics of this relationship for a day while I’ve been wracking my brain over it for years!”

  “Are you trying to take the blame off of playing us? Is that it? Because you couldn’t see how we would work in your pristine future?” Saint spits out.

  “You keep saying that I played you by omitting the way I felt about you both, but that’s a lie. Elle is justified in her hurt, but what’s your excuse, Saint? I told you she was my fucking world, and yet you ran behind my back and made a move on her. And don’t you fucking stand there and deny it because I know you did. I’ve known Elle all my life. Enough to know that she would never have welcomed you into her bed if she didn’t harbor feelings for you already. And feelings just don’t appear out of thin air, Saint. They need to be nurtured. Which tells me long before Aspen ever happened, you were trying to steal my girl away from me.”

  We’re both so focused on staring into each other’s eyes, hate mingled with hurt, that we don’t hear my bedroom door open until Elle is already in the room. We simultaneously snap our attention to her like moths drawn a flame. She closes the door behind her, locking it, and steps in between us.

  “You’re right,” she says, head held high. “We are as much at fault as you are. I know that now. But Chad, I have no doubt in my heart that Saint was always supposed to come to me. That my heart was destined to be his.”

  The lump in my throat threatens to keep the air out of my lungs.

  “But just as I’m certain that we belong together, so too am I positive that you two are meant for each other. You are the reason why Saint came into our lives, Chad, and for that, I’m eternally grateful. I love you even more for bringing the other piece of my heart into my life. I didn’t see it before, but now I do. We three were always meant to be together. That’s how we stay whole. We can’t live a full life if one of us isn’t in it. That’s just not how our brand of love works.”

  I swallow dryly as Elle throws a loving glance over her shoulder at Saint before she turns around to me again.

  “Tell him, Chad.”

  “Tell him what?”

  “The truth. Stop swing
ing fists at each other and just tell him the truth.”

  “And what truth is that?”

  “That you love him.”

  “Princess?” Saint whispers behind her, needing her to stop, but I know that she won’t. Not until she strips me bare, peels off all the hate and resentment until he sees my soul.

  I push away, my body already shaking, but Elle won’t let me leave.

  “No. We’ve played this dance long enough. The music has stopped now. The party is officially over. This is who we are. And I want you to say it.”

  “Elle,” I beg, my voice so strained it’s hardly louder than a whisper.

  She wraps her hands in mine and leads me to my desk. She hops on it and then spins me around to face Saint, her legs wrapping themselves around my waist to keep me in place, her chin digging into my shoulder.

  “Come here, Santo. Please,” she orders lovingly, and as I’ve witnessed before, he follows her every command.

  He stops just a hair’s breadth away from me, my heart working double-time to keep it in check.

  “Look at him, Chad. Isn’t he the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” she praises, running her nails up and down his chest. “All this ink and color could never hide the stunning boy that lives inside him. Beautiful inside and out. A heart so good and pure even with all the scars he carries. He’s just breathtaking, isn’t he?”

  “Elle.” I turn my head away, my eyes starting to sting at their corners.

  “Cariño, stop,” Saint is quick to add, his chest heaving up and down.

  “No. I can’t. I love you both too much to see you hurting. It has to stop. Don’t we deserve to be happy? Haven’t we paid for our happiness in blood, sweat, and tears? We earned our love. Fought tooth and nail for it. I will not see you both quit on me now that we are so close to the finish line. Now fucking look at each other and tell each other the truth,” she commands, her voice cracking at the end.

  I bow my head, my whole body shaking so much that I’m thankful she has a hold of me. But just as I think this, Elle laces her fingers with mine and places them on Saint’s cheek. The simple touch forces my head up, my eyes and his meeting in the middle. My throat clogs at the vulnerability of his expression. So open. So goddamn open, showing me everything he feels, every last morsel of love he kept hidden from me.

  “Boy Scout,” he stammers, grabbing my shirt, but I place a finger to his lips, silencing him.

  “Don’t. Let me. For once, let me tell you all the words I should have and never had the courage to say. I lied before. I never hated you. I never could. I tried. Fuck, did I try, but it was pointless. To hate you would be to hate a part of me—the better part of me,” I confess, his watery gaze giving me the courage to continue.

  “I still pretended, though. I showed you the worst of me, hoping that one day you would push me away and then hopefully losing you would hurt less. But it never did. Being deprived of your love was the most painful hardship I ever faced. I pretended to blame you for stealing Elle’s love away when in reality, I was blaming myself for losing you both. I truly believed I could only have one of you. That no one could love two people at once. It wasn’t possible. But I did. And God help me, I do. I can’t exist without you. Without either of you. God must have taken mercy on me when he made you two fall in love. This is the gift I’ve been praying for since I realized that I would never be whole without you both. And Saint…” I whisper, joining my temple with his. “I do love you. I always have. Because while Elle is my heart, you were always my soul.”

  I breathe him in, my confession hanging in the air, having lifted a weight off my shoulders. I feel Elle’s tears dampen my shirt while Saint’s grip on me only tightens.

  “It fucking took you long enough,” he whispers under his breath, the trace of his smile so pure, it causes my own tears to fall.

  “I promise you I will spend my life reminding you how much I love you. I’ll never stop.”

  And with those words still lingering on my lips, Saint kisses me, making sure that promise is as much his to keep as it is mine.

  Chapter 28

  Saint

  “What the fuck?” I blurt out when someone grabs me from behind and pulls me into the gym.

  It only takes me a few seconds to realize that my assailant is none other than Boy Scout himself, a sly smile on his face announcing that he’s up to no good.

  “I thought you were in class.”

  “Nope, I ditched.” He grins wider, his emerald eyes sparkling with excitement.

  “You? Ditch?”

  “Hmm.” He nods, pulling me by the hand across the basketball court until we’re both hidden under the bleachers.

  “What are you up to?” I laugh as he pushes me up against the wall.

  “It’s the last day of school. I’ll be leaving for Haiti in the morning and Elle to the Hamptons.”

  “Twist the knife, why don’t ya?” I grumble, not exactly excited that I’m going to spend most of my summer vacation without them.

  For the past three months, I’ve been living the highlife and not just because I’ve been shacking up with Princess and Blondie at his place. No. The decadence I’ve been spoiled with these past few months has everything to do with how we can’t keep our hands off each other. It’s like we’re cramming in all those wasted years we could have been making love instead of biting our heads off. I’ve fucked and have been fucked every which way imaginable. Our insatiable hunger got so bad that, at one point, we had to take a little break because my junk was chafed and raw from all the incessant fucking.

  The longest seventy-two hours of my life.

  Boy Scout brings me back to the here and now by gently grazing the tattoo on my inner wrist with his finger. The same tattoo that symbolizes my love for him and Princess—my golden-eyed she-devil that brought me to my knees and my green-eyed angel that pulled me back up.

  “I’ll only be gone for a month, and then I’ll come back to you. And when I do get back to New York, I want you to ask for a weekend off from the garage so we can drive up to Long Island and visit Elle.”

  “Hmm. Are you proposing a three-way on the beach? And here I thought you were as vanilla as they come,” I tease, his hand instantly going to my throat.

  “We both know there isn’t anything vanilla about me. Now drop your fucking pants,” he orders, releasing his hold on me to untie his tie.

  “Elle’s right. You’re one bossy motherfucker.” I chuckle, but my laugh dies on my lips when he grips me by the chin and kisses me so fucking good that my toes curl like I’m some teenage girl swooning over the latest Harry Styles video.

  “And don’t you fucking forget it,” he growls, biting my jaw.

  Not having to be told twice, I start unbuckling my belt while Boy Scout starts fiddling with his phone.

  “I don’t need to look at porn to get my motor running if that’s what you’re scrolling for,” I taunt, pointing at my hard cock bobbing away, all set to do Boy Scout’s bidding.

  “I’m not looking for porn, although you’re not far off.” He winks, setting his phone straight on the steel bleacher, making sure it’s pointing in our direction.

  “Are we doing a movie or something?”

  “Oh, we’re definitely doing something. Give me your wrists,” he commands, licking his lips as his hand goes straight to my weeping cock, giving it a good squeeze and making my eyes roll to the back of my head.

  “You know I can break free from this easily enough, right?” I croak when he binds the end of his tie to a small pole beside my head, high enough that my arms are left semi-straight.

  “You can try.”

  He grins triumphantly when I pull at my makeshift binds and can’t get free.

  “I see someone’s taken a class on knots recently.”

  “So, I have.”

  “Is that why you brought me here? To show me you’re improving your skills?”

  He shakes his head.
<
br />   “Thirty days is a long time, Saint. I thought we’d make a little sex tape to watch when we can’t have the real thing,” he clarifies with a smirk, his hand now back to gripping my cock.

  “And you picked this spot to do it in?”

  “Why not? My team won the championship on this very court this year. As I see it, this right here is my lucky spot.”

  “And how lucky can you get before the bell rings?”

  My cock swells in his hand when he goes to his knees, those green eyes I have committed to memory staring back at me.

  “Let’s find out,” he coos, his tongue taking a long hard lick up the angry-looking vein at my side. I groan when his nails bite into my ass as he keeps torturing me with his teasing tongue.

  “Can I tell you a secret?”

  “If you do, will it get you to suck me faster? Kind of dying over here, Blondie,” I reply, frustrated and fucking needy for his mouth on me already.

  He doesn’t pay me any mind and just continues on with his sweet torment, his tongue teasing me to the point of agony.

  “With so many piercings and tattoos on your body, I always imagined you’d get your cock pierced, too,” he explains, running little circles on my crown with his finger before his tongue repeats the motion. “I wonder how the cool iron would feel on my tongue? Would the cold metal feel the same sucking your cock as it does when I suck your pierced tongue into my mouth?” he continues on, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin on my tip. “How would it look pounding into our girl’s pussy? Would she scream louder with it hitting all her walls? Would I when you did the same thing to me?”

  “Fuck! I’ll get it! I’ll fucking get the fucking piercing! I’ll get whatever you fucking want. Now take me down your throat, Blondie, or you’re going to have one hell of a clean-up job when I cum all over your face in a second,” I threaten on a growl.

  “And I’m the one that’s a bossy asshole,” he mocks, but before I have time to curse him out or beg for mercy, his firm lips wrap themselves around my dick and suck me from base to tip.