Sweet Keeper (Sweet Talkers Book 1)

by Thalia Sanchez

  We’re close, but not that close.

  I don’t know what got over me last night. Especially after I started getting tipsy and I kept acting like he was my date to the party. Jesus Christ, I rubbed his dick with my ass for an hour, and then we almost kissed in the bathroom, where I definitely felt his boner against me. It was hot. I can’t deny that. I thought he would kiss me, and I’m not sure that I would’ve disliked it either.

  Stan is a good-looking guy, but his appearance doesn’t amuse me. It’s his soul that keeps pulling me closer to him. However, I don’t know where this is heading.

  The flirting was mutual… I think. Or maybe he was just acting like any other guy when a girl keeps provoking him.

  The only thing that I know for sure is that I don’t want to think about it. I’m not going to analyze my actions because I’m not sure that I’ll like the conclusion. I’m officially postponing any emotional evaluation until further notice, until I can’t ignore it anymore.

  “Thank God you’re awake.” Cora’s voice startles me, and I turn around to look at her. As I pull the sheets closer to me, I notice that I’m still wearing last night’s clothes and that I need to shower too. In the meantime, I’m going to stay in bed until I can put my shit together.

  Cora enters my room, leaving the door ajar. From the clarity in the hall, I can tell that’s not noon yet.

  “No, I’m going to be camping in here until tomorrow,” I say when she sits next to me on the mattress. I move to the side so she can get comfortable. I’m used to sharing a bed with my friends. “Did I do something?”

  “Oh, God, no. Surprisingly, you behaved last night,” she speaks, but her unnatural calmed tone doesn’t allow me to put my guard down. “Something’s up with Ash.”

  My face furrows with confusion.

  “What happened to her?”

  Drowned-out voices fill the hall. They’re yelling at each other and, if I’m not mistaken, I can identify that Ash is crying.

  “They have been at it for fifteen minutes. Karma and I are getting worried.”

  “Shit,” I whisper, closing my eyes.

  Her mom is not exactly bad. I know that she’s a woman that has fought hard to get her daughter to have the career she has today, but I’m worried about the life rhythm that Ash has. She’s young and has a bright future. Hell, her modeling career started as a kid. I’m sure that she was in front of a professional camera before she was capable of writing her name. What else does her mom want her to do? Ash already has at least three professional portfolios that will get her to win any casting. Why the excessive control over her?

  My heart hurts just by thinking about their fight.

  Stacy is more than strict about her daughter’s routine. But Ash is a young college girl that needs to have fun and go out. She can’t live her whole life trapped in tight schedules and unbreakable rules.

  “Maybe you should get changed to deal with the crisis,” Cora suggests. “I don’t know if Karma and I are capable of handling this.”

  “It’s okay.” Cora wrinkles her nose, refusing to believe me. “Now get out, I need to pee.”

  She continues to stare at me, squinting.

  “I have a question. What happened with Stanley last night? I saw you guys entering a bathroom together. You got in with stockings and got out without them.”

  Embarrassment crawls up my system, boiling my blood, and settling in my face. I’m not ashamed of the fact that someone saw us go into the bathroom together. No, I’m embarrassed because I only did it because I couldn’t take them off without breaking them. Yeah, for a minute I thought something was going to happen too. Until I started feeling sick and he was nothing but gentle with me.

  “Nothing happened,” I hiss.

  Cora raises a brow.

  “Evidently because you’re still wearing yesterday’s clothes. I thought that you would end up naked after you spent an hour rubbing your ass on him.”

  A mortified moan emerges from me.

  “I couldn’t take the stockings off,” I let her know in a barely audible tone. “I dragged him with me because I couldn’t take my stockings off to pee.”

  Cora stares at me for a couple of seconds, waiting for me to tell her that I’m joking. I’m sure that she was expecting a whore story from me, but I don’t have one. I didn’t fuck him in the bathroom. Hell, I didn’t even kiss him. I did show him my underwear, though.

  Fucking splendid.

  “You’re kidding, right?” I moan and hide my face between my hands. At least she’s not asking if I wanted to because that’s a different story. “For fuck’s sake, Bree. You’re the worst drunk person in history.”

  “I know.”

  “He looked frustrated. Are you sure that nothing is going on between you?” She presses the subject.

  I roll my eyes.

  “Nothing’s going on. I spent an hour rubbing my ass on his dick, and I never felt something strange happening there,” I lie because I can’t give them any more fuel to this. “He just doesn’t like me that way. It’s fine. I don’t want to ruin our friendship by mixing it with sex.”

  She scoffs.

  “Either he’s gay, or he was fighting really hard to stop himself from getting a boner,” Cora states, and my glare throws daggers at her. “What? It’s the truth! Any straight guy would end up with a raging boner after having a hot chick’s ass on his dick for an hour.”

  “Can you let this go, please?” I beg her, shrinking in my place.

  “Okay, for now,” she agrees, shaking her head. “Oh, by the way, your buddy came earlier and brought you coffee and donuts. I drank the coffee, though.”

  “Really, Cora?”

  All I get is a shrug from her. “At least you have the donuts.”

  Karma’s head peeks through the ajar door, smiling innocently. “Actually, I ate the donuts.”

  Can I have one thing in this place?

  “Are you kidding me?” They both smile before they disappear from my sight. “Thanks a lot, bitches!”

  Their laughs echo down the hall as they walk away. I rush to change my clothes, getting ready to deal with the crisis upon us. It’s when I’m alone that I realize that Stanley brought me breakfast.

  Am I reading too much into this, or does it seem like something more? Whatever it is, I don’t want to know. I don’t need a distraction right now. I’m postponing this emotional evaluation, even if Stanley isn’t making it easy for me.

  Shaking my head, I push that issue to the back of my brain and pull out a pair of pants and a white shirt that belonged to my brother. I get rid of yesterday’s clothes, throwing them into the dirty pile, and put the clean ones on. After I deal with this, I’m going to take a long shower to wash away the shameful parts of last night.

  Once I’m changed, I spot my phone charging on the night table next to Karma’s stockings. I can’t help the curve in my lips, knowing that Stanley put them there. I grab the phone, unplugging it from the charger, and search for our conversation, typing a short message.

  Me: Thanks for the coffee and the donuts. And everything. Srry for being a pain in the ass.

  His answer comes a couple of seconds later.

  Stan: no worries. It was the most fun I’ve had in a while, Backstreet Girl.

  Oh, God.

  Me: If you ever mention that again…

  Stan: it’s okay, Morticia.

  Me: I hate you.

  I don’t see what he answers because, even when I get the message, Ash’s mom leaves the apartment, throwing the door on her way out. If she went that way, I know that the things between them are not great.

  I go to Ash’s room, and as I get closer to her door, I can hear her cries. Sobs break the perpetual silence in the apartment. Her door is barely open, so I push it gently. Ash is sitting on the floor, her legs flexed, and her elbows on top of her knees. She’s hiding her face between her hands, crying harder than I’ve heard her before. I’ve known all of her cries. The first time she failed a test, and
when she lost her grandmother, but somehow, I’ve never heard her as defeated as she is now.

  I sit next to her, wrapping her with my arms, sheltering her in them. She lets out all of the pain that’s suffocating her without uttering a single word; her tears are already expressing more than her words will ever do.

  “I’m so tired, Bree,” she pronounces in a sob, backing away, wiping her tears with her palms. I can see her face red and puffy. A couple of strands of her black hair are glued to her wet cheeks.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I question, leaving her with the choice.

  Ash bites her lip and shakes her head. A couple of tears stream down her face.

  “I don’t even want to think about it,” she expresses in a sigh.

  Her answer makes me uneasy. Something’s not right about this, but I don’t want to pressure her into talking about something that she’s not ready. She’ll tell me eventually. I just hope that it isn’t too late. I don’t want to see her spark go off while handling her life and her mom.

  “Fuck your mom, honestly,” I say, refuging her in my arms. “She can suck a huge dildo for all I care.”

  Ash laughs and sniffs.

  “I know,” Ash whispers. “But it’s so hard to fight with her.”

  “I know, I know,” I mumble back, still caressing her back. “If you get snot all over my arm, I’ll cut you.”

  She chuckles.

  “Please, my snot is magnificent. It would be a blessing.”

  I groan.

  “You’re disgusting. How can people believe that you’re a diva?”

  “I have no idea. Now, can we move to the bed? My ass is hurting.”

  I nod.

  We move from the floor to the bed. I keep hugging her because I may not know what she’s going through, but she can count on me. I’m always going to be here supporting her.

  “Can we talk about something else?” Ash asks, and I nod. “What happened last night with Stanley?”

  Can we talk about anything but that?

  However, I want to help her leave behind her argument with her mom. It’s not like Ash doesn’t know me better than I know myself because she does. If there’s someone on earth that can notice that something’s happening between Stan and me, that’s Ash.

  “Nothing. I just made a fool out of myself again. Stan now knows my weird obsession with The Addams’ Family,” I tell her, trying to keep it vague.

  “You should make a reality TV show just of your drunk experiences,” Ash suggests.

  Rolling my eyes, I slap her arm.

  “I also told him about my horrible experience with I want it that way,” I add, feeling my cheeks burn with shame. “I don’t even know why I told him. It just happened, and it’s awful because he’s calling me Backstreet Girl.”

  “That’s peak comedy, Bree,” she says, giggling. “What happened when you got here, though? You guys left earlier.”

  I lick my lips, unsure of what to tell her. Out of everything that happened, Stanley dropping me off in here is what scares me the most. There wasn’t the same intense feeling. It was wholesome, and it made my heart beat faster. The vibes were pulling us together, wanting us to collide.

  “You want the truth?” Ash nods effusively, indeed expecting a story full of nasty details. “There was some point during the night where I thought we were going to end up fucking.” The confession slips in a soft and quiet voice.

  Yesterday, I wanted that. Once alcohol got rid of my inhibitions, I wanted to get him out of my system, so I could finally see if we were on the same page. Now I’m more confused than I’ve ever been in my life.

  “And you didn’t?”

  I shake my head.

  “I told him that I was tired. Do you want to know what he did? He asked me how he could remove my makeup. He did it so gently, Ash. It was—I don’t even have words to describe it. After that, he caressed my hair until I fell asleep,” I finish, and my lungs burn from the lack of oxygen.

  I want to breathe, to get a grasp of fresh air, but I can’t. I’m so confused about everything that’s going on that my mind is clouded.

  Ash’s jaw falls open, consumed by the shock that hit her.

  “That’s… fuck,” she curses under her breath. “Are you sure that you want to remain just friends with that guy? Because, honey, that’s not something friends do. He’s definitely a keeper. The perfect husband material.”

  A moan escapes my mouth.

  “Ash, I’m trying to have a serious conversation for once!” I exclaim, a hint of anger decorating my words.

  “Me too!” she retorts. “Bree, if you want to avoid your feelings, perfect. But you can’t deny that it sounds like he likes you. A lot.”

  I fight a whimper that gets stuck in my throat.

  “I don’t want to think about it,” I whisper sheepishly. “I really don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

  “You can’t avoid it forever,” Ash warns.

  A moan escapes my lips as I put my hands on my face, shrinking in my place.

  “Just let me postpone it until further notice until I’m ready to lose him.”

  From the corner of my eye, I watch her make a face.

  “You’re such a drama queen. Liking each other doesn’t mean that you will lose his friendship, dumbass. Fucking a friend has its benefits.”

  “No, it doesn’t. One of them always ends up having feelings for the other, and then everything gets ruined because it’s not mutual.”

  “Now, you’re just stubborn, but okay, have it your way.” Ash raises her hands as she scoffs. “However, be careful if you don’t have feelings for him because he’s a great guy, Bree. I don’t want you to hurt him because you’re panicking. You’ll just end up hurting yourself in the process.”

  My sigh echoes in the room, and I roll over to stare at the ceiling.

  “Let’s stop with the serious talks,” I plead, pursing my lips together. “Can we watch movies without boy talk?”

  “And without problematic mothers,” she adds, holding out her pinky.

  “Just us,” I agree, intertwining my finger with hers.

  “Please tell me that we’re invited,” Karma says from the door.

  “Excuse me, can we have a private conversation in this place?” I ask, rolling my eyes as she walks to the bed, jumping on the mattress to squeeze herself between us.

  “My door is right there, and you guys don’t talk as quietly as you think.” She points to the door in front of Ash’s room. “But relax, Bree. I’ll keep your secret about your golden boy.”

  I try to push her off the bed.

  “Go away, Judas! You ate the donuts he brought me,” I accuse.

  Karma shows me her tongue, and Ash laughs.

  “Stop fighting,” she asks. “And Bree, do us a favor and get a shower before we spend all day in my bed.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Bree has been essentially ignoring me since the party. It’s been two days since I last saw her during chemistry class. She read the texts that I sent her yesterday but didn’t reply, which is hugely frustrating because I feel like there’s tension between us since Halloween. I’m aware that nothing’s going to be the same since we ignited the spark that was growing between us. However, I didn’t think that she was going to cut me off completely.

  She barely looked at me during class.

  We both admitted that we were scared of crossing a line in our friendship. I think that we erased it by acknowledging that it’s there; that there are some feelings between us. I know it because I was the first one to do it. I’m deep into this awkward situation with no way out just because I allowed my emotions to reign over my body.

  How the hell did I expect us to go back to normal when I was more than willing to cross every line we drew? My dumbass thought we could do it, and now my friend is no longer talking to me. I wish I could say that my hormones were the ones that pushed me to get handsy with her during the party, but
that’s not what happened. It was only a small part of it. The truth is that my heart is yearning for her too.

  It sucks that the girl that I like doesn’t want anything to do with me. It’s okay. I can handle her not having mutual feelings for me. Whatever, that’s not a big deal. However, what bothers me is that I don’t want to lose her, and I’ve been making an effort to put Halloween behind us, but Bree isn’t doing her part.

  “I don’t even know why I’m here with you,” Ryder mumbles as he takes a sip of his beer, holding the controller of the PlayStation in his other hand. “It’s not like you’re a good company with your depressing mood.”

  I roll my eyes with irritation. I wish that he wasn’t in the apartment so that I could be fucking miserable in peace. No, Ryder chose to stay with me and play video games on a Friday night instead of going to a party or a club.

  “I don’t have a depressing mood,” I lie in a grunt.

  I haven’t been in my best mood lately, and he knows it. I’m fucking frustrated.

  Bree is pulling away from me, and I’m terrified that I scared her with my behavior at the party. I know that I didn’t do anything inappropriate. I’ve treated her with the respect she deserves, but I can’t help the irrational thoughts that scream that I did something wrong.

  Ryder told me that things looked intense between us at the party. Maybe her friends thought so too, and Bree freaked out.

  “You’ve been like an abandoned puppy all week,” he accuses.

  I bite the inside of my cheek.

  “Of course not.”

  “Mmm, yes, you have,” he retorts in an evident tone. “Let it out, buddy.”

  “Why are you so pushy?” I ask, trying to avoid the subject and distract him enough to make him forget all about it.

  Ry shrugs, taking importance from the topic. It’s not like he’s affected by my words.

  “That’s the way I am. Deal with it,” he says and hits my shoulder. “Don’t change the topic.”

  A groan gets stuck in my throat. It’s not something that I want to talk about, but I also know that Ryder won’t let it go either. He’s worse than my mother when she wants to know something.