Sweet Keeper (Sweet Talkers Book 1)

by Thalia Sanchez

  He smirks at my insult.

  “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

  I groan.

  “Don’t minimize my feelings. Don’t even try to make me change my mind,” I grit out. “Did you have to make that scene? You could get in trouble!”

  He raises his brows with amusement.

  “I’d like to see them try.”

  I roll my eyes at his egocentric remark.

  “Bree’s right. What the hell was that?” Stanley questions. “You don’t have to take the fall for something that you didn’t do.”

  Ryder shrugs.

  “I can take it,” he says. “Carter won’t dare to mess with you with what I know about him.”

  I frown, crossing my arms.

  “What kind of information do you have against him that you’re so confident about that?”

  “Enough to keep him away.” Ryder tilts his head, keeping his answer vague and limited. I’m intrigued by this. “That’s all that you need to know. Please, trust me on this one. Carter will stay on his lane and will leave you two alone. I promise you that.”

  If he does have leverage on Carter, that means that he’s had this contingency plan since the beginning. Maybe that’s why he took longer than what he told us to come up with a solution for our problem. It makes me wonder what kind of connections Ryder has, and who is he really under that façade of the laid-back guy who I consider one of my closest friends.

  Sighing, I give up, for now, knowing that he’ll stay true to his promise. I hug him tightly, and I realize that he’s so tall that my head barely reaches his chest, leaving me like a dwarf at his side.

  “Thank you for defending me,” I mumble sincerely, backing away. “I don’t appreciate you getting in trouble for me but thank you.”

  He laughs.

  “Sweetheart, I won’t get in trouble,” he assures, tapping my chin with his finger. There’s a shade of a playful smile dancing on his lips.

  Biting my inner cheek, I realize that I’m not ready for all of this. I rushed into this way too fast, instead of processing and making sure that I was okay. I tried to play the tough girl act when I’m not that now. I can be tough later, maybe tomorrow. But today, I want to be away from all of this circus and its carousel of unnecessary drama.

  “You know? You were right,” I let Stanley know. “I don’t think that coming here was a good idea.”

  Stanley wraps me with one arm, pressing me to his torso, where I remain safe.

  “Do you want to skip class?”

  “Would it be bad if I did?” I ask, needing him to assure me that it’s not. I need to ease the crippling anxiety.

  “You deserve a break from this. Plus, I think that you’re the only one that hasn’t missed a single class. I doubt that one absence is going to sink your grade.”

  I giggle at his response.

  “I can give her a ride to the apartment,” Ryder offers. “I have to talk to Bree anyway.”

  A frown forms in my forehead, and Stanley imitates my expression. However, I doubt that he takes it personally because Ryder and I are friends. I can swear that he has been the cupid of our relationship.

  Stanley nods and pecks my lips.

  “I promise to write notes for you,” Stan says.

  I smile.

  “If only you could translate your own calligraphy,” I mention in a dramatic and hopeful tone. He rolls his eyes, but it’s the truth. His letter is the closest thing to a hieroglyph that I’ve ever seen. “Will you come by later?”

  “Look who’s clingy now,” he quips.

  “You, obviously.”

  One more kiss, and Stanley walks away, leaving me with Ryder. I text Karma, letting her know that I won’t be attending class today and that I’d be catching a ride with Ry. She replies with a thumbs up.

  “Now, I have a serious question. Who’s the ginger bombshell that has been spying our conversation this whole time?”

  I turn to look at Luanna, who has been behind us during all of this mess. Her first official day here, and it’s already a disaster. I wonder if she’s going to hate it or love it because it mixes well with our nature.

  “My cousin,” I respond. “Lu, meet Ryder. Ry, meet my cousin, Luanna,” I present them.

  Lu stares at him, analyzing him from head to toe. She has her mischievous spark glowing in her blue eyes.

  “Have I been away from civilization that long, or does everyone in this campus is hot as hell?” she inquires without a hint of a verbal filter.

  Ryder’s wolfish grin reappears.

  “Do you include yourself in that package?” he purrs, and I can identify a flirty tone adorning his words.

  “Hey, Lu is off-limits,” I intervene before I accidentally end up putting together two people that would be catastrophic together. “Remember when I was going to show you that photo yesterday? This is the photo, but the 3D version.”

  Luanna tilts her head and arches a brow, missing the subtle message. Realization seems to hit her because she opens her mouth before she whistles under her breath.

  “I get it now.”

  “Get what?” Ryder asks with a confused furrow. “Which photo are you talking about? Because if it’s mine, you could’ve texted me. I have a few that I haven’t posted on Instagram because they would be taken down for explicit content—”

  “Ryder, for fuck’s sake,” I cut him off before he starts spilling details that I don’t want to know.

  The guy is hot as hell, I won’t deny that, but he’s my boyfriend’s best friend. That’s information that I’m not supposed to know, nor I want to. Especially when he has been flirting with my best friend.

  “You can send them to me later.” Luanna winks at him.

  “No, no. This isn’t happening,” I mutter bitterly.

  They both break into laughter.

  “Please, Bree. As if I would try to get into his pants. This boy has “Ash” written all over him,” she observes, shrugging.

  Ryder’s smile fades as his face darkens with the mention of Ash.

  “Right… Ash,” he mentions wryly.

  “What’s going on there?”

  Ryder pronounces a groan as he takes out the keys of his car. He entertains himself, flicking the key, tracing the curvy figure, and distracting himself from the conversation. I notice that this isn’t his usual behavior. He’s always talking and expressing his feelings, or at least that’s what he pretends. However, now he’s quiet and holding back a cloud of anger that flashes on his eyes. His icy-blue eyes become colder.

  “Nothing.”

  And I’m blonde, I think sarcastically.

  “Let’s pretend that I believe you. Why would you send her a draw that you made? Why even draw her in the first place?”

  Ryder glares at me, sending me death threats. I don’t hold back, staring at him, crossing my arms. I’m waiting for his answer.

  “Bree,” he says in a warning tone.

  “Ryder,” I imitate his tone. “You like her,” I state when he sighs.

  He rolls his eyes with exasperation.

  “Everyone likes Ash.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” I press the subject, and he clenches his jaw.

  “I don’t like her that way,” he begins to say. “I’m an artist… and she’s beautiful. Do you understand what I mean?”

  It takes me a full minute to understand what he’s trying to say. His problem comes because Ash isn’t just a girl that he’s into.

  Ash is a muse.

  Ryder stops the car when we arrive at my building but doesn’t try to take his seatbelt off. He simply pulls over on the side of the road and looks through the rearview mirror, glancing at Luanna in the backseat.

  “Lu, can you give me a minute with Bree?” Ryder pleads.

  Luanna nods and gets out of the car, walking to the lobby of the building. She stays there, observing us from the distance. I gaze at Ryder, completely caught off guard by this.

  “Bree, in the glov
e box, there’s a black USB,” he tells me. I open the glove compartment, searching for what he’s pointing at me. “If for some reason, Carter decides that he’s not going to stay in his line… If he does something that threatens Stanley, that has what you need to blackmail him.”

  My throat closes, not knowing how to breathe with what he said. For a moment, I’m terrified of what I’m holding in my hand.

  “Is it illegal? The information. I don’t want to know what the USB has, just answer me that question,” I ask.

  He smiles.

  “No, it’s nothing illegal. Carter doesn’t want that information leaked, though. So, if something happens—”

  “No,” I interrupt him, putting the USB back in the glove box. “I’m not going to be him, Ryder. If something happens, and I hope it doesn’t. I’m going to figure it out, but I don’t want to feel superior to him by doing the same thing that he did to me.”

  Ryder’s eyes remain following every move that I do.

  “You’re something else, Bree Pierce.”

  I shrug.

  “I’m trying to be the bigger person for once,” I reply. “Why didn’t you give the USB to Stan?”

  He licks his lips.

  “He’s angry at Carter, but he won’t use the information if something happens,” Ryder explains.

  I arch a brow.

  “And what makes you think that I would? I didn’t take it.”

  Ryder presses a finger to my temple.

  “But you’re clever, Bree. If something happens, I know that you’ll figure it out with what I just gave you. Even if you don’t take the USB with you.”

  Chapter Thirty

  I stay over at Bree’s apartment the night before Thanksgiving’s Day. Ash, Cora, and Karma already left for their homes yesterday because we have half of the week off, so that’s always an excellent opportunity to visit our families. Since my parents couldn’t come to see me, and vice versa, Bree makes sure to sign me up to spend the holiday with her and her family, which is both suicidal and exciting.

  Except for Luanna, who stayed in Ash’s room, we have the apartment for ourselves. Last night we took advantage of that, and I spent hours teasing Bree until she begged for more. We fucked, spoke, took some naps, and woke up to fuck again. How did I become so lucky? I don’t have a clue.

  After a rough start of the week, where Ryder and I had to step up to defend Bree on a couple of occasions, the things are slowly falling into place. Step by step, we’re going back to normal. At least as normal as we could be before the incident of the post happened. Fortunately for him, I haven’t stumbled upon him since Monday. When I got back to the apartment, his things weren’t there, so I guess that he made sure to leave before I came back.

  That was the wisest thing to do. I’m not sure what information Ryder’s using against him, but it was enough to shut him up and make him stay away from us. Well, for now, it’s been that way, and I don’t plan to jinx it until it becomes necessary that we meet again. There’s not much that we can do when the lacrosse season begins. Whether we like it or not, we’re still teammates. It’s not like he’s going to transfer colleges because he messed up.

  “I hate it when you stay over,” Bree mumbles, her voice is raspy thanks to the sleepiness adorning it. I’m a sucker for it.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask with a frown as my fingers caress the waves of her hair.

  She lifts her head from the pillows. Her sleepy look is by far my favorite, along with the “recently fucked” one. Her hair is a sexy mess that I adore.

  “That we never get enough sleep, and I end up like a zombie the whole day,” she explains, rolling her eyes.

  A grin forms in my lips.

  “You weren’t complaining about that last night,” I remind her, provoking her. The tip of my finger starts tracing her naked thigh that’s not covered by the sheet. “Especially when you had your legs wrapped around me.”

  Bree shivers, her hips moving in circles, searching for my body when I slip a hand under the sheets, finding her pussy. My finger adventures in her slit, finding her wet. Her slickness against my skin makes me groan.

  We’re going to have morning sex.

  “Stan,” she moans in a whisper when my finger finds her clit, flicking it softly.

  “Yes?”

  She opens her mouth, but the noise of knuckles hitting the wood of her door drowns her voice.

  “Hey, bunnies, you better start getting ready,” Luanna lets us know at the other side.

  Bree whimpers. Frustration decorates that sound.

  “Somehow, our mornings keep getting interrupted by a member of my family,” she mutters through clenched teeth.

  I snicker at her behavior. It’s not that the situation doesn’t frustrate me, because my dick is aching and suffering, knowing that it won’t be inside her anytime soon. But it’s fun to witness the way her lips press together with discomfort. Her hazel eyes shine with desire.

  “Go shower first.”

  She arches an eyebrow.

  “Why me?”

  I lower my gaze, guiding her sight to the bulge covered by the sheet, showing my uncomfortable situation. Making her company in the shower is not an option. Last night we realized that having sex in there is a safety hazard. With our height difference and her bad luck, we almost broke our necks. Ending up with a broken bone and a lifetime of embarrassment for a quickie? It’s not worth it.

  “I need to take care of it,” I answer, wrinkling my nose.

  She scoffs.

  “So you get an orgasm, and I don’t? How’s that fair?” Bree provokes me, wanting to get something else out of it. Her hand meets my abs, the tip of her fingers caressing the skin, sending a shiver through me.

  I give in quickly because the flesh is weak. Taking the sheet off our bodies, I turn around and position myself between her legs, keeping them open in the process. Leaning in, I slide to the south, leaving a trail of wet kisses all over her belly as I descend to her pussy.

  “You can have one, but only if we do it quick. Do we have a deal, babe?” I propose, and Bree nods enthusiastically, biting her bottom lip to remain.

  “Is it time to give thanks already? Because what a way to start the day,” she expresses in a pant when my tongue runs along her slit.

  I have a hard time holding back my laughter, but I manage to once I get into the moment, devouring her—Bree’s greedy, bucking her hips to meet my mouth, searching for her release.

  Happy Thanksgiving to me, I think, as I focus on getting her off with my mouth.

  Two hours later, I find myself driving to Bree’s childhood home. She has taken the task to make the way here entertaining instead of dull, considering that we barely slept at all. I’m grateful for the fact that my face doesn’t tend to show when I’m tired because otherwise, it would be pretty obvious. From the corner of my eye, I steal a glance at Bree, still mesmerized at how stunning she looks today.

  Her short black skirt hugs her body in the right way, and I can’t wait until the day is over so that I can play with her again.

  In the backseat, Luanna helps her belt out a song that it’s probably out of their range and pitch, but they have fun doing it. They’re both energetic people, and together they’re more potent than a grenade. I can see why they get along so well; they were both made by the same mold.

  “I have to ask,” I interrupt when the song finishes. “What’s waiting for me today?”

  “A lot of craziness,” Luanna answers without hesitation. “Probably, some drama will unfold, and someone will end up crying. That someone is probably me.”

  Bree turns to glare at her. In the rearview mirror, I can see Luanna shrug as if the subject holds no importance.

  “Don’t be a pessimist.”

  “I’m a realist,” Luanna corrects dryly. “Anyway, you’re the definition of a perfect boy, so I doubt that you’ll have any problems.”

  That would’ve worked amazingly if it wasn’t for the fact that Bree�
��s father already knows me—for sleeping with his daughter. And that’s an understatement. He knows that I spent the night fucking his daughter. No father in his five senses would be okay with that. Probably, in his eyes, I’m the guy corrupting his little girl.

  If he only knew that is the other way around.

  “Don’t stress it,” Bree says, tugging on my arm in a comforting gesture. “They’re going to love you.”

  “I’m not stressed.” The words come out tense as my hands tighten around the steering wheel. “I’m mentally preparing for the super loving encounter between your dad and me.”

  Bree’s laugh echoes in the car.

  “Please, you’re just being dramatic. Dad hasn’t been that bad.”

  No, he simply sent me to die around thirty times, and I’ve only seen him once for three minutes. That says more than enough about the kind of relationship that expects us. Although maybe I am being exaggerated and letting me be prey to panic. I’ve never formally met a girl’s parents. Especially one that means a lot to me.

  “If you say so…” I mumble, sinking in the seat.

  We’re not far from her house. The GPS—because Bree can’t give directions even if her life depended on it—says that we’re only fifteen minutes away. My stomach is a mess as nausea rolls through it. My palms are sweating, and I’m doing everything in my power to avoid drying them with my pants because that way, Bree will discover how nervous I truly am about all this. I’m not sure that I’m ready to meet her whole family at once.

  “You’re going to be fine, dummy.”

  “Right.”

  “Stan, seriously. They don’t know you yet, but they’re going to adore you. I promise,” she reassures, her hand traveling to the back of my neck, caressing the zone.

  “Look at it from this point, you can’t be worse than Steve Keaton,” Luanna supports.

  I frown, and Bree groans.

  “Who’s Steve Keaton?” I inquire.

  Bree shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

  “A hippie weirdo that Bree dated back in high school. He kept dedicating her that popular song from the Backstreet Boys. What was the title?” Luanna furrows her brows in deep thought.