Sweet Keeper (Sweet Talkers Book 1)

by Thalia Sanchez

  “Bree, are you going to help me, or are you planning on staying there the whole day?” Luanna asks, putting a hand on her hip as she points to the unpacked boxes that she and Stanley are opening.

  I roll my eyes.

  “I was taking a break,” I assure them and drop my gaze to my phone where I was scrolling through Instagram.

  “Right,” she murmurs. “Do you know if Ash is coming by later?”

  I nod.

  “After she’s done with a team meeting,” I respond.

  “How is she? We haven’t spoken since before Thanksgiving’s day.”

  Stanley and I exchange a look.

  “She’s… fine. I honestly don’t know. I think something’s up with her,” I let her know, and she frowns. “Ash has been neglectful to talk about it with us, so I can’t tell you details about it.”

  “But what about Ryder?”

  I shrug.

  “I have no idea what’s going on there.”

  “What’s going on where?”

  I jump at the sound of a fourth voice in the room. Turning around, I spot Ryder in the doorframe, holding a bottle of wine in his right hand.

  “My situation with Moss,” I lie quickly. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “Yeah, well, I heard that ginger was moving, and I couldn’t help coming by to bring a welcoming gift.”

  My phone buzzes, and my heart drops when I see the unread email from the Harpy. Leaning against the boxes, I prepare myself to read it. I need to take a deep breath before I press on it, and I begin to read.

  Miss Pierce,

  I’ve been trying to figure out how to start this email for the past week. You would’ve thought that my wall of diplomas would help me to write this, but it hasn’t done anything other than confirm what you said about me. As I’ve been debating on whether I should do what’s right or the questionable choice, I realized that I do need to be more human, even if it’s not ethical.

  You brought to my attention parts of myself that I knew were there, but that no one dared to tell me they were. You did that. I have to admit that I know my students don’t do well in my class. I’ve had an infinity of nicknames—the Harpy, Witch, Voldemort, among others—that have made me uncomfortable, if I’m honest with you. My work as a professor is not the best. Somewhere between getting my diplomas and awards, my brain consumed my heart. I’ve spent so much time with my nose in books and investigations that I’ve lost the sense of what it was to be a student or a real educator.

  Although I want to punish you for cheating on my class and helping mister McKinley do it too—I’m not naïve, and I can see through a lie—, I haven’t been able to expose you either. What you did, as reckless as it was, is honorable. I genuinely don’t understand your reasons for taking the fall for your classmate. I’ve always frowned upon women giving up their dreams for men, but you didn’t do it with that purpose. There was something meaningful in your act, something so human and selfless that I could never understand.

  Do you want the truth?

  I’m the guilty one in this whole situation. I could’ve been a better professor, someone accessible and understanding with my students. I should’ve cared more. Half of the class is failing. I think that speaks more about me as a professional than the diplomas on my walls.

  That’s why I’ve decided not to take action against you or McKinley. These past days of tension have been punishment enough. Not everyone learns in the same way, and not everyone is talented in the same things.

  I took my time learning more about you. You’re a photographer with an excellent eye for the moments that you want to immortalize, and you don’t deserve to be excluded from the opportunity to polish your abilities and talent.

  I do advise you not to make this a habit. You won’t get any more chances at finishing your degree. However, please, continue to be the same blunt and honest human you are today.

  Sincerely,

  Dr. Adeline Byrne.

  The Harpy.

  I blink a couple of times, trying to avoid the tears that have clouded my vision. I reread everything to make sure that I didn’t make a mistake and that I understood everything. I need to know that I’m not imagine this. I read it three times before I raise my gaze from my phone, observing everyone around me.

  “I get to stay,” I mumble, and a couple of tears stream down my face.

  “What?” Stanley blurts out.

  I sob as I smile, unable to control myself from the wave of overwhelming emotions. I’m so happy that I could be floating in the clouds.

  “I’m not getting expelled,” I announce, and I start crying harder.

  Stanley wraps me with his arms. I cling to his torso, closing my eyes as I absorb this moment of plain and real happiness. Backing off, I kiss him softly.

  “Don’t I get some love too?” Ryder interrupts our moment.

  “Fuck off, Ry,” Stanley says, pushing him away when he tries to join our hug. I bite my lips, failing miserably at hiding a smile. “How do you feel?”

  “Happier than I’ve ever been in my life.”

  Epilogue

  Bree is freaking out in the seat next to me when the plane lands in Florida. She doesn’t have any issues with planes in general and doesn’t think that it’s going to fall into pieces. No, her whole chaos is because she’s finally meeting my parents in person.

  We spent Christmas with her family, and now we’re going to spend New Year’s Eve with mine. It was a mutual agreement to spend time with our loved ones without being apart for so long.

  “Oh, Lord. I should buy a ticket and take a plane back home,” Bree comments, sinking in her seat, allowing herself to be a prey of panic.

  I roll my eyes because she couldn’t be more dramatic if she tried to. Not even I got to that point when I met her parents, and Austin was way more intimidating than mine will ever be.

  “Bree, you talk to my mom once a week. What’s the difference now?” I ask her, trying to prove my point.

  For the past couple of weeks, Bree has been answering the calls from my mother, teaming up to embarrass me. Which has been a torture, but I’ve survived. It’s something that I have to deal with because knowing that my two favorite females in the world get along is an accomplishment. We’re one of those few couples that get along with the parents of the other. That’s what I call luck.

  “I don’t know.” Bree shrugs, showing that she doesn’t have a real reason to be afraid. “What if she sees me and thinks that I don’t deserve her baby?”

  I groan.

  The last part is to mess with me because my mom made the colossal mistake of calling me her baby in front of Bree. That’s clearly something that my girlfriend will never allow me to get over.

  “Don’t be silly, Bree.”

  “You’re the worst person to give moral support, you know?”

  I scoff.

  “You don’t need support. You need to shake away the fear because they already love you,” I assure her.

  It’s not a lie.

  “You’re the worst,” she murmurs with a childish pout.

  I smile, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

  “You love me like that.”

  “Ugh, you’re clingy,” Bree complains, although I can see the corners of her lips fighting to curve into a smile.

  She knows that I’m right.

  “How long have you two been together?”

  I turn around to look at the person that interrupted our moment. There’s a senior lady on the other side of the tiny hall of the plane. She offers us a warm smile as she holds her husband’s hand. Her kind eyes seem to shine as she observes us.

  Bree points at me with her thumb.

  “Him? Honestly, I just met him at the airport, and he’s paying me to pretend to be his fake girlfriend.”

  The woman widens her eyes, looking horrified.

  Fuck, Bree.

  “She’s kidding,” I intervene before Bree feeds her more lies for fun. “We’ve been together for almost two
months.”

  “Aw, are we pretending already?” Bree questions, and I glare at her. She laughs. “I’m joking. As he said, we’ve been almost two months together.”

  Since we made it official, I mentally add because the truth is that I can’t decipher at what moment we stopped being just friends. We spent a couple of weeks neglecting our feelings before we gave in.

  The woman relaxes, and her smile returns.

  “I’d say you’ve been longer,” she comments. “You behave as if you knew each other for your whole lives. That’s a good sign. You have a solid relationship.”

  Bree’s face goes red as I thank the lady for her words. Her observation warms my chest. I think it has to do with the fact that Bree and I were friends first and developed an immense trust from that.

  When we leave the plane and walk to the outside of the airport, I can sense Bree’s nerves return, so I hold her hand, intertwining our fingers to give her support.

  “Are your parents here yet?” she asks.

  I nod.

  “At least that’s what mom texted me,” I let her know.

  But honestly, my mom is never on time. I’m counting on the fact that she’s excited to meet Bree, and that I told her that we were arriving ten minutes before the actual time.

  “Did your mom dye her hair purple?”

  I’m about to deny it when I spot her. Yes, that’s definitely my mom with purple hair. I wish I could say that I’ve gotten used to this, but her radical changes are always catching me off guard.

  Mom lets out an excited shriek as she runs to me. Except that she’s not, she passes by my side, hugging Bree tightly.

  “You’re real!” she says and backs away to examine her. “And so tiny.”

  Bree stares at my mom without knowing how to react. She has that confused frown.

  “And you’re, well, a fucking pole. Now I know where Stanley got his giant genes from,” Bree expresses without a hint of a filter.

  Mom laughs.

  “I can’t believe that you’re here. I adore your hair—”

  “Thanks, mom. It’s so nice to see you after being apart for months,” I interrupt, shrugging casually.

  They both roll their eyes.

  Mom breaks apart from Bree and hugs me, pinching my cheek.

  “You know that you’ll always be my baby,” she says, and I feel the need to go back to the airport and buy a ticket back.

  Bree’s giggle fills my ears.

  “Mom.”

  “Don’t be silly, baby,” Bree mentions as she tilts her head. I can see her lips quivering, fighting to remain serious.

  I bite my tongue.

  “You guys are so cute together,” mom speaks and leans in so that her mouth is close to my ear. “Stan, I like this girl.”

  “Yeah, I like her too,” I assure, winking with complicity.

  “We should keep her,” she suggests in a whisper, and I can’t help but smile.

  I definitely plan on keeping her around for a while.

  And I hope that she keeps me too.

  Acknowledgments

  If you’re reading this, it means that I finally did it. I sat my ass down, wrote a book and published it. This was a wild ride, I made the decision to really write a book when I was in quarantine, procrastinating, and avoiding my real responsibilities. It was supposed to be a project to keep me sane during the madness that 2020 has been, but these characters were too powerful, too loud. Bree and Stanley took over my mind and I simply HAD to write and share them with you guys.

  I couldn’t be more excited for this new chapter in my life, but I definitely wouldn’t have been able to do it without the support from a few amazing people. So, here it goes. Warning: I have a lot of people, so this will be long and sappy.

  First, I want to give a huge thanks to my parents for their incredible support and for being more excited than me for this book. I’m sorry that I tainted the pure vision that you had of myself with the sex scenes. Love you both.

  My sister, my royal pain in the butt, but the one that had my back and that gave me the push that I needed to make my dreams come true. One day I’ll get you out of debt for being my bag of support—like when I get a sugar daddy, or something.

  Mis nenas: Tefi, Naysha, Genesis and Kei thank you for all the nights that we spend together, you’re the real ones. Thank you for everything.

  Las Chanels, my girls. I cannot put into words how grateful I am to have you guys. You have been my online home for the past two years and you’re amazing to me. THANK YOU!

  Adriana, my evil twin, thank you for coaching me through this and being the best cheerleader. You’ve been so great to me and I’m so, so thankful.

  Liza, dude, thank you for mentoring me and holding my hand when I asked you a million things. You’re the best.

  Julie, you don’t know this, but without you I would’ve never done this. I didn’t know what bookstagram was, I didn’t know about the world of self-publishing. I had made an account for edits and you reached out being the sweetest and for that I am grateful. And for doing all the PR and keeping my things together. You rock.

  I have to give a major shout out to the people that I’ve met through bookstagram that have made this road a lot easier. Zoe (my soul sister), Kenzie, Taylor, and Nat. You guys are so amazing and I love you!

  The real warriors of this book: Pacita y Wrathames. You two. You guys heard my ideas, my thoughts about this book, and the characters. You know all the unnecessary details about Bree and Stan (and the others too). You have read the 200 versions of this book, the quotes. You’ve hyped me up, held my back, kept me inspired. You guys have been my rock when I needed it the most, and this wouldn’t have been possible without you two. Both of you knew me when I was fourteen and I had dreams bigger than me, now at the age of twenty, you’ve been at my side watching me conquer it.

  And here’s to you, reader. Thank you for choosing my book, for reading this story and for getting this far. You are the one making this possible.

  About the Author

  Thalia Sanchez is a new author, who has words for blood and characters for brain. She’s from Puerto Rico—the land where she’s constantly complaining about the heat, but that she loves with all her heart—. Thalia started writing at a young age and soon discovered that craziness was what she wanted to do in life.

  When she’s not writing, you can find her procrastinating on Instagram, pinning things on Pinterest, and laughing at memes. She has an endless love for her puppies—that are not so puppies anymore—and she adores animals more than she loves herself.