Laced Steel: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Steel Crew Book 3)

by Mj Fields

  I quickly pull my hand away and hit accept. “If she mean girls me after this, I will destroy her and you.”

  “I can guarantee she won’t.”

  “He’s going to eat you alive.”

  He nods once, turns, and then walks away.

  He’s in love with her. He is in freaking love with her, and that’s why he’s doing this. He’s in love with her, and that’s why he doesn’t hang out with Harrison around her.

  Bile burns in my throat as I send a text to the crew.

  - I accepted her invitation for tonight. Doesn’t mean I’m going, but I did. And if you guys do go, just remember to watch your backs. I don’t trust her at all.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Idiom

  My lips are sealed.

  Truth

  Thank God I can breathe through my nose.

  Sitting in the bleachers, surrounded by the entire family, except Brand and Tags, who both are tied up with work, I’m having the best time on Seashore Academy property than I’ve ever had.

  Luna has chosen to sit on my lap because, as she says, “Momma Bella’s and Kiki’s belly are too big, and you’re my next favorite.”

  Bella palms her face.

  “At least she’s honest.” Kiki laughs.

  “Just you wait,” Bella sighs.

  “You’re cute and warm. I’ll take third.” I laugh.

  Now, with sticky fingers being wiped all over me, I’m secretly second-guessing my decision, and Uncle Jase, who tried to lure her from me and failed, is looking all too smug about it.

  The bleachers around us are less empty since the start of the game. I can safely assume all the girls who sat close to us because they expected to see Brand Falcon are now sitting farther away with their normal cliques as intermission is about to come to an end.

  Wiping Luna’s hands with the wet wipes that Uncle Jase was hiding and Aunt Carly snagged while she was whispering something in his ear, no doubt something dirty since he was distracted, a cloud covers the sun.

  I get an elbow to the ribs and scowl at Brisa, who looks incredibly amused.

  “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Steel, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Oh, fuck no,” I grumble, and Luna starts laughing as she looks over her shoulder at me. “Shh … don’t tell on me.”

  “Gimme another Twizzlers and I won’t.” She belly laughs.

  “Fine,” I cave.

  “Truth,” he says, and I look up. “It’s wonderful to see you here.”

  “Well, I go to school here, and—”

  “So does the kid who outweighs you by a good thirty pounds—her brother,” Dad grumbles.

  “Yes, I know Justice. He’s a fine young man. You’ve clearly done a wonderful job parenting.”

  “Great. Now, what can we do for you?” Dad cracks his knuckles.

  Uncle Jase chuckles. “C, hand me that popcorn; show’s about to start.”

  “I’ve been attempting to court your daughter for the past few days, and it dawned on me that her resistance could possibly be because she’s more old-fashioned than the rest of the women I’ve been acquainted with.”

  “Cyrus.” I hear Mom whisper a soft warning.

  “Uncle Jase?”

  “Yeah, T?” He chuckles.

  “Can I get some popcorn?”

  “Sure thing, baby girl.” He laughs as he hands me the popcorn.

  Leaning back, I look up at Harrison, who is pursing his lips, then glance at Dad, who is white-knuckling the bench.

  Dad looks at Mom. “This punk still standing here, looking at me, Birdie, or am I imagining this shit?”

  Mom looks up at Harrison, trying to defuse the situation, and smiles. “Thank you for coming to introduce yourself to us, but we didn’t catch your name.”

  He smiles, and honestly, it’s kind of dazzling. “My name is Harrison Reeves the second, Mrs. Steel.” He holds out his hand, and she goes to shake it, when he turns it and starts to lean down to kiss the back of her hand.

  When Dad growls, Mom quickly reacts by shaking Harrison’s hand and, unfortunately but fucking hilariously, she ends up shaking it so hard that it hits him in the face.

  Uncle Zandor and Uncle Xavier burst out laughing.

  Uncle Jase reaches behind Dad, grabs a handful of popcorn, says, “Did not see that twist coming,” and then pops the popcorn into his mouth.

  Laughing, I look at Harrison, who pulls a monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket, gives it a quick shake, and then dabs his lips.

  “Oh my God,” Mom breathes out. “I am so sorry, Harrison. So very sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Harrison says as he shoves the hanky back into his pocket. “Mistakes happen. And hopefully, first impressions can be forgiven.”

  “Since my girl hasn’t said two words to you, I’m guessing she’s not interested.”

  “Cyrus.” Mortified, Mom whispers, “This is Harrison Reeves.”

  “Yeah, Birdie, I got that. The second.” Dad holds up two fingers, and my uncles laugh.

  “Harrison. Reeves,” Mom whispers.

  “The kid in the fucking tights?” Dad whispers back, or attempts to anyway.

  She looks at me and mouths, “I am so sorry.”

  “I do a bit of dancing, Mr. Steel.”

  “Saw that. In tights.”

  “I wasn’t aware Truth has spoken publicly about her attraction to me, but I’m hoping that means—”

  “Lemme clear this up for you. Truth didn’t say a word about you to me.”

  Harrison smirks and looks at Mom. “So it’s you she speaks to about matters of the heart.”

  Dad hisses, “Listen, Shakespeare, I—”

  “Oh my God, Dad.” I try not to laugh, I really do, but it can’t be helped.

  Dad swings his head toward me. “T, would you rather I call him Peter Pan?”

  Harrison laughs, and I think it’s actually genuine, as Mom palms her face. “I give up.”

  Dad swings his head back to Harrison.

  “I’m not offended, Mr. Steel.”

  “I’m not sure if that makes me happy or pisses me off even more.”

  Harrison looks at me. “I see you have your father’s sense of humor and your mother’s beauty.”

  He then looks at Dad. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. You’ve raised a very strong young woman. As a matter of fact, she has already told me that, before even coming to the academy, she found me online, knew of my family and, apparently planned on making me her bitch to get a leg up.”

  Dad looks at me, amused. “Did you say that, T?”

  I shrug. “Might have.”

  “You do know you got two strong legs and don’t need anyone else’s to get you where you wanna go, right?”

  I nod.

  Dad looks back at Harrison. “How old are you?”

  “Eighteen in a few weeks, sir.”

  “Ask my permission to ask her out then.”

  Harrison tilts his head to the side in question.

  “I can’t kick the ass of a minor, deserving or not, and I can’t have him arrested if he so much as cops a feel. So, when you’re legally an adult—”

  “I appreciate that, sir, and just wanted to make you aware the age of consent is actually sevent—”

  “Dude, I have tried to be quiet”—Jase laughs—“but this shit is painful. Harrison Reeves the second, he wouldn’t give you the thumbs-up if he had two handfuls of thumbs.”

  Harrison nods at Jase. “Fair enough.”

  Then he looks back at me. “I’d like to take you out to dinner this evening.”

  “We already have plans.”

  “We do?” Brisa asks, and I give her a dirty look. “Sorry, T, but this is better entertainment than this ball game.”

  “We all were invited to Gabrielle’s party. I decided we should go.”

  “The boys, too?” Dad asks.

  I nod.

  He looks up at Harrison. “Gonna say it again, ask me after you tu
rn eighteen. Do it at my house.”

  “After midnight?” Harrison jokes.

  Dad looks back at me. “You into this kid?”

  I roll my eyes.

  He looks back at Harrison. “Make it before dark.”

  He nods. “See you on my birthday, Mr. Steel.”

  “I’ll be waiting.” Dad gives him a scary-ass smile.

  Harrison looks back at me. “See you tonight then.”

  “Stupid little shit,” Jase mumbles as Harrison walks away.

  I hear Xavier and Zandor laugh, and then the group chat notification goes off.

  I hit the app and see that one of them has edited a picture of Harrison on stage, in tights, leaping, and me to the left, holding a whip and a leash.

  “Shit’s not fucking funny, Z,” Dad snaps.

  “Why do you automatically assume that’s my work?” Zandor laughs.

  “Oh, gee, I wonder,” Tris huffs.

  When the crowd starts applauding, I look toward the field and notice that, two rows down, Nina and a few other girls are sitting next to Gabrielle and Tobias Easton. Gabrielle is looking back at me, whereas Tobias has his elbows propped on the bench behind him, facing the field.

  She mouths, “Thank you.”

  I force myself not to roll my eyes or flip her off, and nod instead.

  When she looks away, I look at my girls. “You accepted just now?”

  “Hell yeah, we did.” Tris grins and looks over her shoulder. “Dad, I’m going to a party.”

  “JT and Patrick gonna be there?”

  “Truth and Brisa are.” She scowls at him.

  Zandor looks a bit uneasy but nods. “I trust you, Tris.”

  Tris nods then looks at the field as she whispers, “Men are so stupid.”

  I look toward the field again and see Tobias is looking back at me now. He winks.

  He. Freaking. Winks.

  I’m not sure if I’m pissed off or … turned on.

  When the boys take the field, Brisa yells out, “Number 27 on three!”

  Amias keeps his head down but smirks.

  Three batters, one on base. The next batter hits it toward left field. Amias jumps, and I swear it’s fifty feet in the air, probably more like eight, but he catches the ball —basically midair— then guns it to first.

  The pitcher drops to the ground as it flies over his head, and Justice does a fucking split to tag first base.

  Double play.

  We’re all on our feet, screaming and cheering, and Zandor yelling, “That’s my boy! That’s my boy!” in a crowd that is otherwise glued to their seats, theater clapping.

  Next batter hits it directly toward Amias, and again, he catches it.

  Three outs, and our team runs in.

  Three of our batters have hits, no outs, bases loaded. Justice is up, and Amias is on deck.

  “Show ’em what you got, JT!” Dad yells.

  Justice looks back at us, holds the bat up, and winks.

  The first pitch, he lets go by and is called a strike.

  Dad, Zandor, Jase, Xavier, Patrick, and Max are all on their feet, cheering him on.

  When he hits the ball, it soars through the air and drops right before it goes over the fence.

  I watch Justice mouth, “Fuck,” and then he begins to kick up the dust.

  Three runners in, and Justice is feet from home base when the ball comes whizzing in.

  “Down! Down! Down!” we all scream, and again, I see him mouth “fuck” as he hits the dirt and slides into home base, taking out the catcher in the process.

  The announcer isn’t even as loud as our section, and all eyes are on us.

  I can’t help but laugh at some of the parents and their pinched faces as they look at us.

  We calm down just in time to see Amias swing on his first pitch, and it’s called a strike.

  “That’s okay, A! Wait for yours, bud, wait for yours.” Zandor claps.

  The next pitch is thrown, and Amias doesn’t swing.

  Another strike.

  “That’s okay. You got this. You got this.” Zandor claps.

  Justice whistles, and Amias looks back, steps out of the box, and then catches the bat that Justice throws to him. He tosses the other back.

  Justice looks up toward us and lifts his chin.

  Zandor whistles loudly.

  “Holy shit!” I gasp when Amias hits the ball and the bat splits in half. “Holy shit!”

  “T, you’re at school.” Dad tries to scold me but is grinning from ear to ear as the ball flies over the fence.

  “That’s my boy!” Zandor yells, whistles, cheers, and I swear to God he’s on the verge of tears.

  Amias doesn’t run; he jogs. He’s hotdogging, and the girlies are eating it up, as he rounds third.

  Justice whistles as he claps his hands.

  Amias points to Justice, and then himself. He picks up speed, and then slides into home.

  After the game, we all wait outside the school for Justice and Amias to get done showering and doing whatever boys do to celebrate a win in the locker room.

  Note to self: find out.

  We aren’t alone waiting. There are a group of girls giggling next to their Teslas, dressed in clothes I’d wear to a dance, not a ball game.

  When the boys walk out with some of their teammates, Amias holds the bat he split in one hand and an unbroken one in the other. He lifts his chin to Zandor. “Got something for you.”

  “Proud of you, son.” Zandor beams.

  Amias hands him the unbroken bat. “Well aware of that, Dad, so is the entire Seashore ball-field.”

  Zandor looks over the bat, still smiling when he then looks at him. “This a thing here?”

  “Nope.” Amias laughs. “Just figured you may need this for the next game.”

  “Why’s that?” Zandor chuckles.

  “As over the top as you were, you might as well join the team.”

  Everyone laughs, everyone except Zandor, who arches a brow.

  “Don’t think I won’t, kid.”

  Amias rolls his eyes as he smiles. “We going for pizza, or do I need to walk over there and allow one of the ladies in waiting to take out the star?”

  “Oh my God, Truth, the first four outfits were fine,” Brisa calls from my room.

  “Yeah, come on, T; we’re already an hour late,” Tris says with obvious excitement.

  “Fine,” I grumble, walking out and tugging on the black skater dress with the rounded neckline and sleeveless bodice.

  “Damn, girl.” Brisa grins.

  I turn in a circle. “Tell me the truth; does this make my boot look big?”

  “Looks great. And your ass is popping, T. Jesus, I need an ass like that.”

  Tris looks down at her cute, little wine-colored romper as she pushes her boobs together. “Question?”

  “Shoot,” I say, touching up my makeup.

  “Does the ass and titty fairy come on the same day?”

  “You’re younger than me, so chill out.” Brisa pushes her away from in front of the mirror and turns to look at her ass in her black and white striped, wide-leg pants, then turns back and adjusts her halter, ensuring it shows part of her belly.

  “You two look freaking amazing,” I say, turning away from the mirror.

  “Let’s go,” Tris says excitedly.

  “Wait,” I call from behind them. “Jackets.”

  “Really?” Tris whines.

  “You wanna get out of this house, then yeah.” I laugh and toss her a leather jacket.

  “Hey, wait. What about me?” Brisa pouts.

  I walk into my closet and grab a black, cropped cardigan and my cropped jean jacket.

  “Jesus, do these people ever let you park less than a mile away?” I grumble.

  “I’d offer to give you a piggyback ride, but we’d probably make The Sound tomorrow,” Patrick says with a slight laugh.

  “You can give me one.” Max hops on his back without warning, and Patrick almost falls.


  “Get your boney ass off me,” he jokes.

  “Chill, Max,” Amias grumbles.

  “Leave him alone.” Brisa elbows Amias. “Superstar.”

  “That’s fucking right, and since JT decided to hang back, that superstar status is gonna gain me some extra lovin’ tonight.”

  “Better chill yourself, man.” Max turns, walking backward, and points at Amias. “You know which one of us is gonna get the most attention.”

  “Turn around, smart ass, before you end up busting your ass and walking in there looking like you shit your pants,” Patrick says, looking down at his phone for the hundredth time.

  “She’s not coming, man,” Amias pokes fun at Patrick.

  “Who?” Max asks.

  “Mind your business, both of you.” Patrick nods toward the house now coming into view.

  “Holy shit,” Brisa gasps.

  “Next level bouj right there,” Max quips.

  “He’s right. If our homes are considered mansions, Gabrielle’s is a castle,” Tris says with a hint of awe in her voice.

  Patrick chuckles. “Three of our houses could fit inside that bitch.”

  And here I am in a skater dress. I laugh at myself, and not in the funny ha-ha way either.

  “Who gives a shit?” Amias shrugs. “Certainly hasn’t made her a happier human. I bet her snatch has frostbite.”

  Amias is clearly high on a high school baseball win right now, because it is very uncharacteristic of him to talk shit about females.

  “Ew, Amias, gross.” Brisa cringes.

  “She’s a cunt—we get it—but, dude, if Dad heard you say that shit …” Tris tsks.

  “Not thinking cunt would go over well either,” Amias says smugly.

  Amias and Max walk in first. Patrick stays behind us.

  The place is packed. There seriously must be at least two hundred people here, and I’m happy to see that we aren’t underdressed. Not to say we are overdressed, but it’s not as bad as after the game in the parking lot.

  Everything I’ve ever imagined about a stereotypical college frat party is playing out in front of me. Loud music, packed rooms, kegs and people cheering others on to “Chug, chug, chug.” But the fact it’s going on inside of this home is almost shocking. The contrast of the party and my lavish surroundings causes me to pause.