Crew Princess (Crew Series Book 2)

by Tijan

  He tsked me, going to his locker. Punching in the code, he bent inside as I sprayed myself and put the body spray back in Taz’s locker. Cross had a shirt in his hand when I turned back.

  “What’s that?”

  “A shirt.”

  “Is it clean?”

  He lifted it to his nose, took a big whiff, and started coughing. Then, cracking a grin, he handed it over. “I’m kidding. Yes. It’s an old shirt of mine I put in there last week. I’ve not worn it. Take it. It’s better than a sweatshirt. You know the librarian has a thing against sweatshirts.”

  I shuddered. He was right. She thought they were coats. All coats and hats had to be off to step inside her library.

  I did the whole switcharoo again, pulling it on under my sweatshirt.

  Cross’ smirk was now a shit-eating grin, and his eyes were latched onto my chest.

  I paused, drawing a circle over my breasts. “You’re watching me like you’re sex-deprived.”

  I knew he was not.

  He grinned a happy little grin, transforming his face from hot and smoldering to an adorable puppy my arms were aching to grab.

  God, I loved this guy.

  “I’m just enjoying the show. And thinking how I’m going to buy an oversized sweatshirt to zip around both of us. Your mission will be to change your clothes inside.” His grin was wicked again, his eyes darkening. “That image is going to get me through the rest of the day.”

  We were late, in the hallway. We were bound to get in trouble, but I couldn’t stop myself. I reached over, touching his lips. I said softly, “You’re happy.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  He paused, catching my hand, and considered my statement. He hugged me to him, but he didn’t lean down for a kiss. He continued holding my gaze.

  “Yeah. I think I am.”

  I leaned back a little, tilting my head to the side. “Because of your brother?”

  Cross shifted his book to his other hand and dropped it on the floor. Then both of his hands splayed out on my back, slipping under my/his shirt. He rested his chin on my shoulder, and I wound my arms around him, my fingers sliding up to his hair.

  I knew without looking that his eyes were closed.

  “I don’t know,” he whispered, kissing my shoulder where the shirt’s collar had slipped to the side. I felt his entire body seize up in a breath and exhale. “He didn’t know who I was.”

  “Didn’t seem like it, no.”

  “You think he was lying?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I drew circles on the back of his neck. In this moment, we were boyfriend and girlfriend. No crew. No beef. No siblings dared interrupt.

  “I don’t think he knows.”

  I nodded. “Are you going to tell Taz?”

  Cross stiffened and pulled back. I lifted my head to meet his gaze, and he gave me such a sad smile. His hands moved to my hips, keeping me anchored against him.

  “I don’t know. How do I not, though? He looks so much like me.”

  I grinned crookedly. “Almost like you. You’re way hotter.”

  “And Zeke Allen is his best friend. How the hell did that happen?”

  I shook my head. “Who knows, but your half-brother is rich. Zeke Allen seems like a tool, who likes to collect all the right tools in his shed. You know? Maybe it’s one of those things?”

  “Maybe.” His hands flexed, digging into my hips before he let me go. “We should get going.”

  “Hey.”

  He was about to pull away, but I stopped him, a finger to his chin.

  He paused, waiting.

  “Whatever is going on, you and I are good. Crew’s all that matters at the end.”

  He nodded. “I know.” He straightened and kissed my forehead. “Walk me to the library?”

  That afternoon, after school, I descended into hell—my kind of hell, not a normal girl’s kind of hell, but most definitely mine.

  I was shopping for a prom dress, and I still stunk. I knew I looked a nightmare—bags under my eyes. I’d gone through three energy drinks, and I’m talking the big-ass ones, not the little cute can ones. So I was half acting like I was on something too, which maybe I was.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. Seeing it was Cross, I answered. “Hello, my penis.”

  Silence.

  I pulled the phone away, checked to make sure it was him, and prodded, “Cross? Hello?”

  “Did you just call me your penis?”

  I kept moving down the line. How many colors of black were there? Off black. Midnight black. Lead black. Jet-black. Onyx. And I wasn’t even looking at the different cuts of the dresses or the fabrics.

  “Well, if you think about it, you kind of are.”

  Ooh. I never thought I’d be the girl who liked black lace, but I tucked the phone between my neck and shoulder and reached up to take the dress from where it was hanging. I stepped back, holding it up in front of me. “I don’t have a penis, but you do, and you’re my guy. There you go.”

  Did I like the ruffle sleeves?

  I put it back. I wasn’t the ruffle sleeve type.

  “Okay. You sound weird. Where are you?”

  “I’m shopping.”

  And I was distracted again. Pink? Why was I feeling pulled toward this pink contraption? I didn’t even think it was a dress. It looked like a scarf, something I’d hang around my head. It’d be perfect as a weapon. I could wrap around it someone’s neck, climb up on their back, and then twist… I forced myself to move on. Those kind of thoughts weren’t healthy, not for this new and updated Bren.

  I chose not to focus on the last two fights I’d been a part of.

  “Shopping?” Cross swore into the phone. “Are you on something? I can’t believe I’m even asking that question.”

  “Which? Shopping or the other?”

  He was silent a moment. “Uh, both?”

  I grinned, feeling flushed all over my body. “No, but I’m thinking I need to not drink so many energy drinks after a crew night. It’s either coffee or a nap.” A yawn worked its way up, and I waited until it passed before murmuring, “Maybe I should’ve done the shopping tomorrow.”

  “Um.” He was so confused. “Why are you shopping? I was looking for you after school.”

  “Oh.” Yeah. I forgot. “I’m shopping because prom is this weekend.”

  He was quiet. Again.

  Then, “Oh, shit.”

  “Ha. I see I’m not the only one who forgot.”

  “Do I need a tux for that?”

  I shrugged, though he couldn’t see, and headed toward this glistening creature. I would look like a mermaid in it.

  “Ask Race. Do whatever he says. Don’t tell him I’m just now shopping, though. That’ll get to Taz, and she’ll freak out. Apparently, I was supposed to do this ages ago.”

  He chuckled, sounding strained. “Okay. I’ll talk to Jordan and Z too. Where are you, though?”

  I gritted my teeth, knowing he wasn’t going to be happy. “I’m in Fallen Crest.”

  “What?!”

  “Before you get mad, I’m incognito,” I rushed in.

  And I was. I’d stopped at home, not to shower like I should’ve, but to swipe some clothes. Heather had left a few of her things in Channing’s room, so I pulled on one of her leather jackets with a white tank under it, and a pair of my jeans. My hair was still in a braid, but I had one of Channing’s ball caps pulled low.

  No one would recognize me, especially here.

  “Roussou does not have good shopping,” I continued. “Fallen Crest does. There’s one store in Frisco, and it’s a Dollar Store. It’s either here or make the trek to the big city. I don’t have time for that.”

  He groaned. “I don’t like this.”

  I didn’t either. “Shopping is not my thing. Trust me. I’ll make it quick.”

  I snagged another dress off the rack. It was white tulle, with pink sparkles lined in the fabric, and it wasn’t too long.

  Tulle.r />
  I hated tulle.

  Usually.

  Gah.

  Why couldn’t I put this down?

  It was so girly. It was so not me.

  “That would look perfect on you!”

  I jumped as a store clerk magically appeared beside me, her eyes wide in wonder and her mouth open. “Oh my gosh,” she said, taking it from my hands. “I’ll find you a dressing room. You have to try it on. Your body, you’d look magnificent, and I’m so extremely jealous right now. I’ve been eyeing this since we got it, but I don’t have the body for it. My sister either. You, though.” She looked me up and down, shaking her head. “You’d be ready for the Pinterest board. Lucky.”

  She turned, heading for the back.

  “What just happened?” Cross asked. On the phone. He was still here.

  “I—I don’t really know.”

  He snorted. “Okay, I’m not going to fight you on it, but get your dress and tell me when you’re leaving. The buddy system is still in play, and you’re violating it.” He dropped his voice. “It’s their turn for payback now. I really don’t like the thought of you being there alone.”

  I knew this. I knew this, but it was a dress. One dress.

  I grumbled into the phone, “Can I go to prom in fashionable sweatpants?”

  “Is there such a thing?”

  There had to be. All those fancy airport shots. “Celebrities fly in stuff like that.”

  “Yeah. Okay. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Get the dress. Text me or call me when you’re leaving the store, then when you get in your vehicle, and when you’re driving back. Don’t forget we have dinner tonight with your brother.”

  I winced. I’d forgotten that too. This is what happened on not enough hours of sleep, and a full day of zoning out while two Normal students were interviewed. When they were asked about the crews, I snapped to attention and glared. I did my best glaring.

  Once word got out that I was taking note of what everyone was saying, I didn’t have to do much more than the occasional glare. But I got really good at it. A few times I pulled my knife out. And I had to do it when I was in the back and when I knew no camera guy would turn and see me. Cause, shit would be bad for me if that happened. It was worth it. Eyes got real big once my knife showed even for a second, and the rest of the students got through their questions without revealing much of anything after that.

  “I will. Love you,” I told him.

  “Remember, stay incognito.”

  The store’s bells rang behind me as someone came in.

  I nodded. “Consider me a chameleon. No one will recognize me. Trust me.”

  I hung up and turned around, coming face to face with my ex.

  “Oh, fuck. It’s you.”

  Drake Ryerson grinned down at me, cocky. “You might be blending in with the dresses behind you, but I’m pretty sure it’s Bren Monroe standing before me.”

  “Look at me, laughing. A comedian has entered the building.”

  He chuckled, but some of his cockiness faded. He moved around me, scoping out the place. His hand traced over some of the dresses. “Imagine my shock, driving down this street in Fallen Crest and seeing one of your brother’s trucks.”

  See? I really had tried for the incognito, even swiping the keys for one of Channing’s vehicles.

  “And I’m pretty sure the girl I saw leaving that truck and heading in here was not Heather.” He touched on the end of my braid. I smacked his hand away, “Your future sis-in-law does not have dark hair.” He skimmed me up and down, the same way the store clerk had, but a whole layer of dirt followed his path. “And Jax shows more skin than you do—not that I’m complaining. You could show way more skin.”

  God. That grin.

  I wanted to punch his throat, wipe it clean. “What are you doing in here, Drake?” I looked behind him. “And alone?”

  “Why are you alone?” he countered.

  I didn’t think Drake was my enemy, currently anyway, so I really needed to get this damned thing and go. The clerk hadn’t come back. I kept looking, just for more options.

  “I’m shopping, and hiding from Taz since she thinks I should already have this dress. My excuse is justified. Why are you alone? You’re a part of the buddy system, you know.”

  He followed along, pulling out a dress for me. “This would look good on you.” He pointed out the short hemline. “Lots of thigh. Cross would thank me.”

  I took the dress, hung it back up, and squared against him. I guess I shouldn’t be multitasking here. One opponent at a time.

  “You are here for a reason. You followed me in here for a reason.” And I wasn’t forgetting what Alex had warned us about him—that Drake wasn’t here to lead the Ryerson crew.

  Was Alex wrong? Was Drake actually here for me? That didn’t feel right. Drake would’ve been pestering me long before now. Too much time had gone by when he was scarce.

  Drake went after what he wanted. I’d once thought it endearing. Now I used it as a warning sign.

  No. Drake didn’t want me, but what then?

  I pinned him with a look. “Just say it, whatever you came in here to say.”

  He hesitated, and I knew I was right.

  He dropped all pretense, his eyes scanning the store once again, lingering on the street, before he lowered his voice. “Did you know your previous principal remarried last summer?”

  I frowned. The fuck? “Principal Neeon?”

  He continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “That his new wife is your new principal’s sister?”

  A female Kenneth?

  I asked softly, more cautious, “Where are you going with this?”

  Again he ignored my question. “And that Neeon’s daughter suffered a breakdown over the holidays. She had to be shipped to a boarding school, one that’s not just about basic high school education.”

  He was trying to tell me something. His eyes flared, hidden meaning there, but I wasn’t following. He was dropping hints, wanting me to follow the trail.

  “Drake.”

  “Did you know Broghers’ sister is a cop?” That lone eyebrow rose again. “She’s a cop here, in Fallen Crest.” His gaze went flat after that.

  He was done. He’d said what he came in to say, and I wasn’t surprised when he walked around me, almost in a complete circle.

  “Think about all those tidbits. Aren’t they interesting?” With that, he left.

  One last look at me before he turned and strolled out, just as I heard the store clerk coming back.

  She clapped, still beaming. “I hope you don’t mind, but I pulled a few more dresses for you. They’re all ready.” She leaned in, whispering, “And between you and me, I talked to the manager. I told her I might’ve found a local model for our store fashion show. You’d get paid, and of course, we have to make sure the dress looks right on you, but I think anything will look amazing. Are you ready? Aren’t you excited?”

  Yeah. Excited. Not the word I would use right now.

  But, I still needed a dress. “Where’s the dressing room?”

  My house was in chaos when I walked inside.

  When I’d texted Cross as I was heading back, he’d said dinner was almost ready. I expected Channing, Cross, maybe Heather.

  But I heard voices from the curb where I had to park. The driveway was full. Walking up the sidewalk, I glanced back to the street. Five Harleys were parked, along with Taz’s Ford, Jordan’s truck, and I was fairly certain Race’s car. What was going on?

  I walked inside, and the noise bombarded me at the same time as the smells. Grilling. Hot dogs. Burgers. Voices giggling, shrieking. Some deep laughter and baritone murmurs. All with low music underneath: Beastie Boys, “Sabotage.”

  A party. That’s what was happening.

  Zellman was playing air guitar when I went to the kitchen. Jordan was doing air drums, sitting at the table. Two wooden spoons were his drumsticks.

  If “Make Some Noise” came on next, I was going to kick them
out to the street.

  “Bren!” Taz waved at me from the basement stairs. “Come down here. We gotta talk.”

  The guys stopped their air concert and waved at me. “Heya, Bren.”

  “Where’s Cross?”

  Jordan pointed to the patio with one of his wooden spoons. “I wouldn’t go out there, though. Your brother has his hand on Cross’ shoulder. His crew are all out there too.”

  I nodded, saying to Taz, “One second.”

  My dress hung over my back. I wasn’t sure if she’d seen it yet, but I didn’t want to advertise how late I was in being prom-prepared.

  She frowned. “What’s that?”

  “Dry-cleaning. For Channing.” Uh… “He has a favorite shirt.” I hurried backward. “I should go hang it up.”

  “Come down after that. Something serious happened with Monica. You need to know about it.”

  Oh, dear. Monica. I was quaking in my boots.

  I turned at the same time Heather was leaving the bedroom. She stopped, cocked her head to the side, and narrowed her eyes. “Nice jacket.”

  My smile was stiff. “Yeah.”

  She eyed my shirt too. “And tank top.”

  “Thanks.”

  She was looking at my jeans as we passed each other.

  “Those are mine.”

  She nodded. “I gathered, but I’m also asking myself, why don’t I have a pair as well?” She fixed me with a look. “Is this going to be a problem? Sharing clothes?”

  “Not unless you start sharing mine.”

  She grunted. “Touché, little Monroe. Touché.”

  Heather moved past me, giving Zellman and Jordan the sign of the horns, bobbing her head with the music.

  “Hey! Yeah!”

  Jordan set off on a drum solo as Zellman threw up his own sign of the horns to Heather. Then he was back to playing right alongside Jordan.

  Heather grinned at them, snagging a bottle of rum before slipping outside to the patio.

  I was just putting my dress in the closet when a soft knock sounded on my door. It opened, and Cross slipped inside. His eyes warmed, seeing me. He came right over, his hand sliding around my waist. “Hey.” He moved in, and his mouth was on mine.

  I could taste the rum. Pleasure and warmth filled me, and I swear, my toes curled. So cheesy, but it was the truth. I wasn’t prepared for this kiss.