Texting (The Complete Series

by Teagan Hunter

  As predicted, his dimple pops out. “Huh.”

  “Huh.”

  “So you think you know me?”

  “Oh, I know you, Zach. I know you.”

  His lips are on mine. It’s a slow, mild kiss, but sensual all the same.

  Pulling away, he whispers, “I’m glad you do, Delia.”

  The back door swings open and out comes Jack.

  “Hey, go help grab your brother’s things. He brought laundry.”

  Zach sighs at his father’s request and pulls himself off the swing. “Which is so weird because I’m certain we have laundromats down south, right, Delia?”

  “I’ve used one or two myself.”

  He turns to Rose and pretends to crack his neck and knuckles. “Don’t worry, I’ll work him over for you.”

  “Just don’t bruise his face—it’s all he has going for him,” she jokes, following him inside and leaving me alone with Jack.

  “This is a beautiful home you have, Jack. Thank you for inviting me.”

  “Oh no problem. It’s great to see Zach happy. I always worry he spends too much time alone in that basement of his, especially since his last breakup, but she was no good for him anyway.”

  A shiver races through me at the mention of Zach’s basement and the moment we shared down there.

  “You’ve raised a terrific man—very full of himself, but a great man.”

  “He gets that from Rose. I can’t imagine myself being so vain.” He winks and I laugh.

  Rose comes back outside, a tray of drinks in hand, still wearing those pajamas. I stand to help her but she waves me off.

  “Nonsense,” she says. “You’re a guest. Sit.”

  “I was warned I’d need to change for dinner,” I say. “Something about an eating contest?”

  “Every year since the beginning.”

  “Have you ever polished everything off before?”

  They both nod enthusiastically.

  “Several times. It’s usually when one of the boys brings a guest, but it’s been a few years now. Neither of them have brought anyone home lately, which I guess is a blessing,” Rose says, smiling at me. “They save the important ones for the holidays.”

  My face heats up and I think back to what Zach said about my blushing often. Huh.

  He comes strolling back out on the patio, pointing at the house. “He’ll be out in a minute. He’s using my phone because his is dead and he needs to return a phone call to his agent.”

  “Agent?” I question.

  Jack nods. “Sports agent. Baseball. He’s damn talented.”

  “Your son or the agent?”

  We all laugh.

  “Slu—”

  “You guys talking about me?”

  Holy crap. I recognize him.

  It’s Shep—the Shep.

  My eyes fall to slits as I stare at him, pissed as hell.

  After Zoe’s dreamy date with him, Shep continued to woo her, leaving flowers and notes on her car, sending her the sweetest texts. She was smitten. He was different, she had said.

  Zoe saw him two more times and after their third date, she slept with him.

  And there hasn’t been one peep from him since.

  When she cornered him in the campus parking lot, he said he “didn’t have time for another clingy girlfriend right now.”

  If there’s one thing Zoe isn’t, it’s clingy.

  Her heart has been crushed ever since.

  “We were talking about that big head of yours,” Zach says.

  “Funny coming from you,” I tell him.

  Shep glances my way, finally. “Hey, who’s this?”

  I want to roll my eyes, want to scream, You fucked my best friend and then fucked her over, asshole! But I don’t.

  Instead I stand and extend my hand his way.

  “Delia. We go to college together.”

  His eyes go wide. “Caleb’s girl, right?”

  “Ex girl, but yes. We’ve hung out at a party or two.”

  “And you’re here with”—he points to his brother—“this one?”

  I nod and peek back at Zach, who’s sitting there grinning at me. “You dated Caleb? He was the ex you talked about?”

  “Do you know him?”

  He shrugs. “I’ve met him a few times. I wasn’t expecting your ex to be a big fancy baseball star.”

  I take a seat next to him and lean in close. “I haven’t always had a thing for nerds.”

  “Until me?”

  I grin. “Until you.”

  19

  “Want to hear a funny story about your brother?”

  We’re up in the bedroom now. I’m changing into my Thanksgiving outfit—my pajamas—while Zach feeds Marshmallow and lets him roam about the room.

  “Oh god. Will this piss me off? What’d the little shit do now?”

  “It involves Zoe.”

  “Let me guess, she made him wait for the sexy times, he wooed her, and she gave in. Then he bailed and said he was ‘too busy for a clingy girlfriend’ or some shit like that.”

  I pause, my shirt thrown over my arms, and stare at him. “That’s exactly what happened.”

  Zach sighs heavily. “That’s his M.O. I’ll have a chat with him. We’ll communicate using our fists.”

  I slide my shirt over my head, thankful I thought to pack a matching pajama set. “Don’t bother. Zoe will be fine. She’s a tough girl.”

  “But what about all the other girls?”

  I grin. “Oh, I’ve witnessed a few of them getting their shots in.”

  Zach chuckles. “Good. But, really, I need to teach him a few manners. It’s all this baseball shit going to his head. He wasn’t like that in high school. He had a steady girlfriend and everything.”

  “Maybe she broke his heart and now he’s taking his revenge on the entire female population?”

  “You might be onto something.”

  “Why does he have a different last name?” I ask.

  “He kept his father’s. He’s the only one in the family who isn’t a Hastings.”

  “That has to be…”

  “Weird? Sometimes. I think he feels like an outcast because of it, but he decided to keep the name, so that’s on him.” He sets a full Marshmallow back in his crate and glances over at me. “Are those really your pajamas?”

  I glance down, seeing nothing wrong with them. “Yes.”

  “And you’re wearing those to dinner?”

  “Yes.”

  He shakes his head, grinning. “My mother is going to love you.”

  “Zoe had them designed for me, hand drew the picture and had them printed last Christmas.”

  “She can draw?”

  I nod. “She’s an art major.”

  “Shut up. I had no idea.”

  “She’s weird and doesn’t like to talk about it. I don’t know why, though. She’s talented as hell.”

  He points to my outfit. “Clearly.”

  “Dinner!” Rose yells up the stairs.

  I eye Zach. “Race ya?”

  “One…two…”

  He bolts out the door.

  “Cheater!” I shout, following closely behind him.

  We rush down the stairs then skid around the banister and into the first living room where my inner child gets the best of me and I shove Zach.

  He goes toppling over, landing face down on the floor, groaning.

  “Ughhh.”

  He doesn’t move, and I start to feel a little bad for pushing him.

  I backtrack to kick him gently with my foot. “You good?”

  I can’t make out what tumbles from his lips. Bending over, I get close to his still form. “What?”

  He lifts his head. “I said…you’re evil.” Then he grabs my leg out from under me and before I know it, I’m pinned beneath him. “But I’m winning this race.”

  He presses a quick kiss to my lips and takes off, leaving me stunned and still lying on the floor.

  I can hear his chair slide
across the floor and I know he’s won.

  Groaning, I make my way to the dining room, where I find Zach patting himself on the back for his performance. Jack’s grinning at us both.

  “Did you need to make a speech for the Academy?”

  I take a seat next to him as Rose pushes through the door holding the turkey.

  “Your pajamas!” she shouts, nearly dropping the platter.

  “Here, babe.” Jack stands, helping Rose with the meal. “You grab the knife?”

  She waves him off. “Who cares about that? She has Ryan Gosling on her PJs. Hey girl! I need them. Buy them for me.”

  Jack sighs and turns to me. “Where’d you buy them, Delia?”

  “My friend Zoe had them made for me, but I’ll talk to her about hooking you up with a set, Rose.”

  She claps her hands together excitedly and Jack mouths a thank you as she bustles back through the door, returning shortly with an electric knife. Jack stands at the head of the table as Rose takes her seat at the other end.

  “Delia, I know this is your first Thanksgiving with us, but we like to go around the table and discuss our goals before we carve the turkey.”

  “Goals?”

  “Yes. Which side—or sides—do we want to finish off first, and how many plates do you intend to eat?”

  “This family is the best,” I say, amazement clear in my voice.

  “Goals, Delia.” Zach snaps his fingers. “Let’s hear them.”

  “I think we should eat the casserole first, less carbs.”

  “And plates? How many are you contributing to this meal?”

  “My goal is…three plates.”

  “What a wimp,” Shep says.

  Zach sits back in his chair. “I’m so disappointed.”

  “What? That’s a lot of food.”

  “That’s child’s play. We’re a five-plate minimum family.”

  I slide my eyes toward Zach, who’s sitting there with a frown on his face. “I told you not to eat this morning.”

  “I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

  “Probably, but I promise to make your funeral fun.”

  “Since it’s your first time, we’ll let you go with three, but next time, you need to step up and put your best effort in like the rest of us,” Jack teases.

  I laugh. “Deal.”

  Rose promises five plates, Jack six, and the boys each commit to seven.

  “Seven? How will you eat seven plates?”

  “Three or four right now and then three or four later,” Zach explains.

  “You’re allowed to split them up?”

  “Yes, dear. The only rule is that the food must be gone before midnight tonight. We begin eating at noon, giving us twelve hours to complete the challenge,” Rose explains.

  “And you make all this food for the challenge?”

  She nods. “Every year.”

  “But why?”

  “Because it’s fun! What else are we going to do?”

  “Excellent point. Okay, I’m game for five plates then.”

  Jack’s grin grows wider. “Way to be a team player, Delia.”

  He carves the turkey and we dive in, loading our plates up.

  For several minutes, the only thing we all do is eat. To my surprise, no one is shoveling food into their mouths. They’re taking it nice and slow.

  “So how did you two meet?” Shep asks, pointing his fork between me and Zach.

  “Sex addict group.”

  “Zachary!”

  He chuckles. “Fine. I texted her thinking she was a client and she responded thinking I was her brother. Eventually we figured out the screw-up and kept talking after that.”

  “Caleb mentioned you had moved on rather quickly,” Shep comments.

  The remark stings, but I push it aside.

  “Onward and upward is what I say.” Zach throws me a wink.

  “Do you often meet up with random guys you text with?”

  “Hey,” Zach shouts, dropping his fork. “Don’t be an ass. I will throw a punch on Thanksgiving, I don’t give a shit.”

  The boys eye each other, and I see the anger building inside Zach. That’s the second rude remark to leave Shep’s mouth within the last minute. I don’t know what his deal is, but I don’t like it.

  “Watch it, Slug,” Jack says sternly.

  “Why do they call you Slug?” I ask.

  Zach scoffs. “Because he’s a slimy little shit.”

  “Because they said my newfound baseball fame was getting to my head. I was eight when it started.”

  “Hey, we didn’t start calling you Slug until you were fourteen and walking around like your shit didn’t stink,” Jack corrects.

  “I’ve watched a few of your games, and you have a reputation around school. My friend Zoe said she knows you.”

  His eyes fall to slits and I know he knows exactly who I’m talking about. “Zoe, huh? I don’t know a Zoe. Must be another one of my fans.”

  “Huh, must have you confused with someone else.”

  “Did Zoe describe him as being a jackass? If so, it’s definitely Slug.”

  Shep smirks and eats his food, giving me weird stares throughout the rest of the meal.

  Two plates later and I’m done. I couldn’t eat another bite, not even if someone stuck a plate of brownies in front of me, and I fucking love brownies.

  Jack and Rose are out too, but the boys keep eating, each on their fourth plates.

  “How? How can you even stick another bite in your mouth?” I question, watching as Zach takes another bite.

  “Years and years of practice.”

  His speech is slower and I can tell he’s getting full. The full belly is making him tired; I foresee a nap in our future.

  After polishing off everything on his plate, he finally pushes it away.

  “I can’t. I’m done. I’ll have to come back later.”

  “How later?”

  “Hours. Many, many hours.”

  “I’m out too. Dad, game?” Shep asks.

  “I’m watching the game. You’re helping your mother clean up.”

  Shep grumbles but grabs his plate and takes it into the kitchen. Zach and I follow, our plates and others in hand.

  “So what are you kids doing the rest of the day?” Rose queries as we help her cover a few of the dishes and put them in the fridge.

  “I was thinking a nap sounds great,” I say.

  “I’m with her.”

  “And the rest of the weekend?”

  “I plan to take Delia to the diner for a milkshake, maybe walk the riverfront, show her around a bit.”

  “It’s a beautiful town,” I tell Rose.

  She nods enthusiastically. “I couldn’t agree more. I actually grew up here. When Jack earned his promotion and the kids were old enough, we moved back. I love it even more now.”

  “What’s so special about this diner?”

  “Their milkshakes make my—”

  Rose raises a brow at her son. “Go on, Zach. What do they do?”

  “I completely forgot what I was going to say.”

  “Uh huh,” she says, shaking her head and heading back out to the dining room to grab more plates.

  Zach turns to me. “They make my dick hard.”

  “Heard that!” Rose calls.

  Zach’s eyes go wide and he hangs his head, mortified. I chuckle at his defeat.

  “Don’t laugh at that, Delia.”

  “But it’s hilarious.”

  “It’s embarrassing.”

  “Oh, please. I bet she picked up many of your stiff socks throughout your teen years. She knows you get boners, Zach.”

  “She does!” Rose says through the door. She pushes it open and I go to her, helping grab one of the heavier dishes. “I like this one, Zach. She keeps it real.”

  “I’ll probably keep her around.”

  “Probably?”

  “Maybe?”

  “Zachary…”

  “Yes, yes. I’ll keep h
er around.”

  “I think I should tell you that you’re the only person he’s ever allowed to call him that. He used to come home from school so angry because his teachers would insist his name wasn’t just Zach. I had to write a note and everything. He’s always hated anything other than Zach,” Rose tells me.

  I eye my boyfriend. “Why do you let me call you Zachary?”

  “Because you have a really great ass.”

  Rose laughs. “Yep, just like his dad.”

  “So you’re telling me this will be the best milkshake I’ve ever had? Is there a lady boner in my future?”

  Zach shakes his head. “Don’t say lady boner. It’s weird.”

  “Clit-on?”

  “No. No, that is way worse.”

  “Lady stiffy?”

  “Keep trying.”

  “Moist.”

  He shudders. “Aaand you’re officially the worst person ever.”

  “Here are your Mega Shakes. Your fries are coming right up.”

  “Thank you.”

  She ambles away and Zach shakes his head.

  “I can’t believe you ordered fries. How can you eat after yesterday? After six plates?”

  “It’s a gift.” I shrug and grab for my straw, sticking it in my shake. “I’ll be rather disappointed if this doesn’t end up being something magical.”

  “Trust me, it is.”

  I take a sip…then another…then a longer one. Then I discover I’ve already demolished a fourth of the shake.

  “It’s that good, huh?”

  Releasing the straw with reluctance, I moan. “I’m dead. I must be. This is too heavenly to be real.”

  “Told you.”

  “Can we move here? Like inside this diner? Please?”

  “I don’t think the owner would like that much,” the waitress says, setting down my fries. “I take it that’s your first Mega Shake?”

  “Yes, but it won’t be my last, especially if the owner lets me move in. Is he cute? Can I woo him with my charm and undeniable good looks?”

  “Let me ask.”

  “Hey, Pop!” An older gentleman pokes his head out of the kitchen. “What do you say? Can she woo you with—what was it again?”