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  “I need to hear you say it, Sis.”

  My eyes roll in annoyance. “Fine. Jimmie, my annoying, evil twin brother, I promise to keep my lips shut. I won’t tell anyone about the private clubhouse you and your hoodlum friends have made.” I lift my head and give him a pleading look. “Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now?”

  I earn a grunt in response before Jimmie lifts off me. Of course, my brother is not the only one in attendance to my little wrestle in the grass. Leaning against the tree to my right, with his arms crossed over his chest while looking bored is Dex. The boy with the petulant frown and pulling my brother to his feet is the other Collingswood brat, Nate.

  With how much time they spend together, you would think they were related. It’s uncommon to see one boy without the others nearby, so much so that I miss my brother. My sidekick twin is never around to hang with me anymore, and when he is, he has two other shadows not far behind. Mom says he is just growing up, and it is healthy for us to have some separation from each other. I disagree. I think it’s stupid for him to choose his friends over me. I’m his sister, his other half, and it should be me he wants to spend his time with, not them.

  Instead of accepting this change happening between us, I have chosen another route. I’m retaliating by becoming my brother’s constant tag along. Jimmie says I'm childish. Lucky for me, my mom finds it cute and doesn’t intervene. Dex and Nate repeatedly try to brush me off. I refuse to budge. Dex ignores me while Nate takes the most direct approach and outright tells me that I’m unwanted and a bothersome pest. With my head held high, I refuse to give into their petulant bossiness, and I stick to my brother like glue.

  It’s not that I don’t have friends of my own to play with. Cassy and Dawn live a few streets away, and they’ve been kind to me, but the girls here are different from the ones in our old town. When they come over to my house, they only want to talk about the CW Boys, and now that my brother is one of them, he is included in their gossip. Talk about gross.

  With my brother’s weight no longer pressing down on my chest, I’m finally able to take a full breath. Shielding my eyes from the sun shining through the thin tree branches above me, I push myself to a sitting position and begin the task of dusting myself off. Noticing the multitude of marks and stains on my clothing, I silently curse my brother knowing full well that my mother is going to have my head when I get home.

  As I stand, Dex pushes off the tree and slides up next to me. “You’re getting better at fighting him off. He might be larger, but you’re faster. Not bad for a girl.”

  I blink at his words, surprised by the simple compliment and the way it warms me from head to toe. Twisting the hem of my dress in a nervous fashion, I spare him a small smile. My voice wavers as I speak. “Um…thanks.”

  Dex stares at me for a long moment. His brows are wrinkled in thought and the way his mouth keeps dipping into a frown, it appears that something is bothering him. He looks mad, which makes absolutely no sense, but then again, nothing ever does with these boys.

  Shrugging off the odd silence between us, I look up at the tree standing tall beside us to the makeshift clubhouse sitting high up on its branches. For weeks now the boys have been skirting away from me. They are gone for hours at a time while coming back sweaty, dirty, and tired.

  I tried time and time again to follow them. I knew they were up to something, and I wanted to be a part of it. To my disappointment, they always found a way to lose me along the way. They can be crafty when they put their heads together. Their luck ran out when I went exploring by myself today and found them in a field behind our house hammering away. They’ve used old boards and planks to make the outer walls of what is now the CW secret headquarters. The name sounds lame, but then again, what do you expect from a bunch of immature boys.

  Jimmie yells down from the tree house catching our attention and ending the awkward standoff between Dex and me. “Are you two coming up or what? We only have a few hours left before Mom will be expecting us home. She's cooking spaghetti and meatballs tonight. I don’t want to be late for that.”

  I glance at my brother, a smile stealing my face. “Of course, that would be your favorite. You’re the biggest meatball of them all.”

  Dex gives a snort as he pushes his blond hair out of his eyes. His hair has gotten longer over the past few weeks. Every time I tell him he needs a haircut, he just shrugs and says maybe later. I’m starting to think that later is just another way of saying, never happening.

  I can’t help but glance at his face. Dex has pretty eyes. They are the same bright light blue color as my old Cabbage Patch Doll. He hates me comparing his eyes to a doll's, so I try to keep that fact to myself. Unless, of course, he makes me mad, then I mention it as often as possible. I even made-up a funny song about their resemblance once when he stole my TV remote so I couldn’t watch the teen music awards.

  Pink was singing that night. Nobody comes between Pink and me.

  Gripping the wobbly rope ladder, I begin my climb. It isn't until I am halfway up and hear Dex make an odd choking sound below me that I realize my mistake. My very big, very embarrassing, and utterly stupid mistake.

  I am wearing a freaking dress today.

  With my cheeks reddening to that of a tomato, I narrow my eyes on the smirking boy below and give him the look of death. “Dexter Jamison Lohmann you better stop looking up my dress this instant, or I swear I will roast your balls 'till they turn crispy and fall off.”

  A snort of loud laughter billows from above seconds before I hear feet rushing to the small opening of the clubhouse. My brother Jimmie is the first to stick his head out. Unlike Nate, who is still hooting his glee to the world, my brother’s face is twisted with anger. His eyes skim past me before landing solidly on Dex.

  “What the hell, dude? Stop looking at my sister like that.”

  I don’t like the tone of my brother’s voice. He is usually the carefree one out of the two of us and hearing him angry over something that involves me, makes my heart sink. My stomach flutters with nerves as I sprint up that stupid ladder, my hands gripping the thick strands of rope hard enough to leave behind irritated, red blisters on my palms.

  “No reason to get pissy, Jim. If it were anyone besides your sister, you would have peeked too. It’s not every day a guy looks up to the sky, and instead of seeing clouds, gets an eyeful of Jelly Beans.”

  “Jelly Beans?” Nate inquires, his brows raised high.

  “Yeah,” Dex laughs. “Just looking at her ass gave me a sweet tooth.”

  “Seriously dude, stop talking about my sister,” my brother pleads. “I’m going to have nightmares about killer Jelly Beans now.”

  If possible, I become redder the more they talk. Slumping down against the back wall of the clubhouse, I bury my face in my hands and try to block out their laughter. I’m mortified. I will never forgive my mom for buying me jelly bean decorated panties. I didn’t plan to ever wear them, but then I forgot to do my laundry. They were the only clean underpants I had left. No one was ever supposed to see them, let alone my brother and his friends.

  I hate these boys.

  I don’t understand why they go out of their way to torment me.

  I grit my teeth as I hear Dex’s feet scuffle against the wood flooring as the boys help him in. With my eyes squinted shut and my face hidden from everyone I silently pray for everyone to leave me alone.

  The boards around me squeak in protest as someone sinks down beside me. I’m nervous to see who it is but considering I’m in a shaky treehouse, over twenty feet in the air with no easy way down, hiding from them is fruitless. If I’ve learned anything from hanging out with these boys, it’s that fear is never welcome in their circle. Showing fear is like waving a red flag to a crazy bull. They take it as a sign of weakness, and when you are least expecting it, they will eat you alive.

  Lifting my face, I’m met with dark green eyes that are studying me with an intensity that makes me squirm. Nate’s eyes always rem
ind me of a lush forest. Dex has always been playful and lives for the moment, unlike Nate, who is the serious one. He’s a thinker and a planner. I always wonder what goes on in that head of his. Knowing Nate, he’s planning world domination or something crazy like that.

  “Don’t let him get to you.” He pauses, a sly grin appearing on his face. “Dexter is just pulling your chain. He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

  I clear my throat to stall, afraid if I speak right away my emotions will override my attempt to appear not bothered by Dex’s words or the fact that he saw my panties. He's waiting, watching me with that same intensity again.

  “It's okay, Nate. I’m used to being the brunt of all your stupid jokes. School starts back soon, and when it does, I plan on finding some friends of my own. No more will I follow my brother around. I don’t like being the fourth wheel. It makes me feel out of place and useless.”

  He groans and gains my full attention. “Is that what you think? That you are a joke to us? That we don’t want you around?”

  I give a slow nod. The room around us stills as our conversation is overheard. All at once I have three sets of eyes blazing down at me. My brother appeared defeated, unlike Dex, who looks as if someone just told him that Santa and the Easter Bunny are in cahoots to keep all his toys and make everyone omelets with his colorful eggs.

  I rub my eyes as I push up to my feet. Now is not the time to back down, so once again I steel my spine and speak my mind. “I’m not stupid. I know when I’m not wanted,” I tell them all, meeting them eye to eye. “You guys are always trying to lose me. And when I do catch up, you give me hell for it. I can take a hint.”

  “Then, why haven’t you?” Jimmie asks. My stupid brother doesn’t have a chance to duck out of the way before Dex’s hand smacks him upside the head.

  I roll my eyes, not understanding what all the hoopla is about. Nate stands and takes my hand, holding it tight enough that there is no escaping. Before I can question him, Dex scoots forward and takes my other hand, holding it just as tightly as Nate. I glower, wondering for the umpteenth time today what is going on with the two of them.

  “Sorry, Jelly Bean, but there is no escaping us now. You know too many of our secrets and despite your nosiness and constantly causing us trouble, we have become fond of you. You’re one of us now.”

  I blink and give my brother a puzzled look that he answers with an annoyed shrug. At least, I'm not the only one who seems miffed by this new development.

  “In case you missed the news flash when you were looking up my dress earlier. I’m not a boy. So, making me a member of your silly all boys group is going to prove to be impossible. Unless, of course, you have some creepy underground lair stashed away that I’ve never seen.”

  “Don’t we wish,” Nate answers. A look of mischief twinkling in his gaze.

  The boys circle me. Dex smiles slyly, and I gulp, my nerves back full force. Reaching out, his hand strokes my cheek. “No underground lair or body change needed. It’s already done. We’ve voted on it and as of today, you Addison Lewis are now part of the CW Boys. You’re with us now.”

  My brows bunch in confusion. “What does that mean?”

  Jimmie speaks up for the first time since all this insanity started. “It means Addy Bear, that if anyone messes with you, they mess with us. If we’re involved in something, no matter how dangerous, then you are too. We protect each other at all costs and when one of us bleeds, is hurting, or in trouble, then the rest of us pulls together to make it right.”

  I gulp hard hearing the seriousness of his voice. These guys mean business. Despite their young age, they had formed an unbreakable bond with each other. One that now includes me. I close my eyes as scattered thoughts drift into my mind. My hands become slick with sweat, and despite how hard I tug, neither boy relinquishes my hand. I feel their gaze on me long before I open them back up.

  I clear my throat. “What happens if I don’t want to be part of this group? Is there a backout plan or something we can do to reverse it?”

  Nate makes a snorting noise, something he occasionally does when he finds something amusing. Apparently, I amuse him.

  “Too late, Addy Bear. That ship has sailed. We’re keeping you. You fit in perfectly with us. You should have learned by now that whenever the CW Boys go after something, they don’t stop until they get it. Today that happens to be you. Embrace it and enjoy the power it will bring you. No one will ever mess with you again, and everyone will want to be your friend. You’re the girl version of us, Addy Bear. You’re like a princess.”

  I’m at a loss for words. How in the heck did my day get so messed up? The boys release my hands and go about working on the clubhouse as if nothing of importance had just taken place. Just as I think all of it had been a horrific nightmare, and I imagined it all, my brother sidles up to me, his hand rubbing my shoulder in a way Mom does when she knows I’m upset.

  “I tried to warn you off for your own sake, and not because I didn’t want you around. I can’t help you now. They meant what they said earlier. You’re part of the group now, little sister.” With that, he pushes a broom and dustpan in my hands. “Time to earn your keep, brat. You get the floors. I’ll take the walls.”

  Chapter Three

  Addison- Age Fifteen

  “Did you see Daniel on the dance floor?” I ask, leaning into Cammy so she can hear me over the loud music. “He was dancing with that new transfer student from Georgia.”

  Cammy blinks then says, “I’m drawing a blank. What’s her name?”

  “Daisy, I think.” I rack my brain to recall a name I’ve heard in passing. “Or maybe it was Rose? Magnolia?” My memory is shit tonight. “I know it’s a type of flower.”

  Cammy gives an amused snort. “So, what are you in the mood for?” She points to the backyard, and my gaze follows the movement. “Swimming, beer pong, or a riveting game of drunken volleyball?” Her arm swings to the action in front of us in a Vanna White type showcase. “Or we can get our groove on in here. If we’re lucky everyone will be so drunk, they won’t remember our lackluster moves come Monday.”

  I stand frozen, staring at the debauchery in front of us as two teens gyrate on each other as if there wasn’t a whole room full of people around them. They look like something out of a porn flick, their mouths feasting on any speck of bare skin they find while their hips are frantically humping the other’s leg. Gulping loudly, I nod toward the back door. “I’ll take my chances out there. I’m not attempting that dance floor until I’ve had more booze in me.” I point toward my chest, my fingers grazing the tiny pearl buttons on my sleeveless top that are straining against my breasts. “This white girl can’t dance. At least not in the way kids around here do.”

  Cammy and I wander through the thick crowd murmuring, “Excuse us,” and “Coming through,” as we bump and inch our way to the back doors. I’ve been to a handful of high school parties before, but none of them have been anything like this one. The house is filled with kids from our school and surrounding ones. The music is pumping so loud you can feel it vibrate in your bones, and the kitchen counter supplies a rainbow of colorful bottles of every liquor imaginable. If my brother and his friends knew I was here, they would be having a shit fit. Lucky for me, they are still out of town at a soccer game, and Cammy promises to have me out of here and back home before they return.

  The cool outside air feels like heaven to my heated face. Standing on the edge of the back porch, I tilt my head back and take in large gulps of the fresh, untainted air. I had smelled no less than ten different kinds of perfume and cologne while we were refilling our solo cups, giving my nose something to sneeze about.

  “So, what now, chickadee?”

  My eyes dart around the backyard taking in the half-dressed girls in the pool frolicking around like swimsuit models, the group standing around the beer pong table cheering loudly while provoking those playing to drink more, and then, of course, the volleyball players. Drinking and physical games are not
a winning combination for anyone.

  Nothing going on around us excites me. Cammy, on the other hand, is in her element. She’s wide-eyed and excited to join in on anything I toss-up. She’s the yin to my yang. Where I am content being the wallflower, she is more at peace when she’s the center of attention. Not wanting to drag her down and ruin her night I choose the least troublesome activity.

  “Let’s make this night memorable. Let’s play some beer drinking games.”

  Cammy squeals in delight, jumping up and down like a little kid. A few people look our way, but with all the craziness going on around us, we aren’t given a second glance. “Seriously?” The happiness in her tone makes me smile.

  I shrug and give a timid nod. “It’s not every weekend I get to party without the CW Boys interfering.” I take a large gulp of lukewarm beer from my cup and fight the grimace as it trails down my throat. “Let’s do this.”

  If my nerves are showing, then Cammy doesn’t notice because she wastes no time hauling me across the yard to the game table set up by the pool house. Using her hips and elbows, she maneuvers us to the front of the table and within minutes has us set up to play against two large guys that play defensive line on the football team. I’m no Einstein, but even I know that our odds of holding our own against these two are slim to none. Not only are they more familiar with this game, but their weight ratio is higher than ours. They will be able to hold more alcohol than the two of us combined.

  I watch with nervous tension in my shoulders as twelve cups filled with beer are set out on each side of the table. We take our respective places at the table with a pong ball in hand. With a loud whistle from a guy standing on a chair next to me, the game begins. I go first, and with a flip of the wrist, my ball goes sailing in the air and lands with a gentle ‘bloop' into a red solo cup. I’m ecstatic and feeling confident. With my hands in the air, I’m dancing around in a circle and talking so much shit, my breath probably stinks. The problem with gloating about a win is that it can come back to bite you in the butt.