Texting Box Set: The Complete Series
Page 1
Texting Series Box Set
Teagan Hunter
Contents
Note from the Author
Let’s Get Textual
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
I Wanna Text You Up
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Can’t Text This
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Text Me Baby One More Time
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Acknowledgments
Textin’ Up My Heart
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Bonus Content
Let’s Get It* On
Thank You
Other titles by Teagan Hunter:
Note from the Author
Dear Reader,
In the summer of 2017, I was feeling tapped. I had just wrapped up writing a contemporary romance series that was a little heavier on the heart (the Here’s To Series) and novel (We Are the Stars) that was the most angsty book I’d ever penned. I needed a break. Something fun.
I found a document on my computer that was untitled and consisted of a few texts between unnamed characters. It seemed like a cute idea, and I’d been meaning to write something for my newsletter, so I dove in, holding nothing back.
As I was writing what would later be named Let’s Get Textual, I just knew this couple, this world I’d created, was something I had to share with everyone.
So, the Texting Series was born, and everything changed.
I had so much fun writing in this world. I loved getting to know these couples and sharing them with you all. Which is why I created this box set, so you can visit them in one sitting.
This box set includes 4 full-length romcom novels, 1 over-the-top novella (available for the first time in ebook!) featuring all the couples, and a Valentine’s Day short story.
I hope you love my “texting gang” as much as I do.
Love & Pizza,
Teagan
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by Teagan Hunter
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer quoting brief passages for review purposes only.
Cover Image by Andreas Gradin from Stocksy.com
Editing by Editing by C. Marie
Formatting by AB Formatting
Christine,
You’ll never guess, but I…
1
Unknown: Are we still meeting tomorrow?
I stare at the text on my phone, brows pinched in confusion because it’s not a number I recognize.
Then it hits me: Liam must have a new number…again, and he must have forgotten to tell me…again.
Brothers are so much fun.
Me: Yep. What time again?
Unknown: 2
Me: I’ll be there.
Tossing my phone onto the empty pillow beside me, I think back to our conversation on Wednesday. I could have sworn he said two-thirty because he’ll be across town and there’s no way he could arrive by two, but maybe he changed his mind? Either way, I’ll make it. I love my bi-weekly lunch meetings with my brother.
“Babe, you done yet?”
An unfriendly muffled response filters through the bathroom door. I want to argue back, to say something equally as unfriendly, but it’s no use.
“Whatever,” I mutter, rolling on my side and reaching over to flip the lamp off.
I lie awake, watching the minutes tick by on the clock on my bedside table. Ten minutes later, Caleb tiptoes in from the bathroom and takes a seat on the edge of the mattress. He sits there for another two minutes, wringing his hands together, before he slides into the bed to lie beside me.
He doesn’t say anything; neither do I.
We’re at that point in our relationship—you know, the one where it’s more of a hassle to be together than to be apart. To be honest, we’ve coexisted in this place for about a month now. Caleb’s words have become curt, and I haven’t been a peach myself. We haven’t been intimate in weeks. Nothing in our relationship says relationship anymore. We’re simply biding our time until we can’t take it a second longer.
I can’t take it a second longer.
“Caleb?”
“What?” His response comes out clipped, like he’s already done with this conversation before it’
s begun.
Another sign I’m about to ask the right thing.
“What are we doing?”
He sighs, and I can feel him run a hand over his face. “I’m not sure anymore, Delia.”
“Should…” I lick my dry lips and push out a worried breath. “Should we break up?”
Caleb rolls my way. On instinct, I reach out to brush away the lock of blond hair that falls over his eye. He grabs my hand, halting my movements, and I meet his stare. His dark blue eyes are sad, like he knew this was coming.
I know what he’ll say before he says it.
“I think so.”
Caleb gathers me into his arms as the tears begin to fall.
I’m sad, and though it shouldn’t, it surprises me. We’ve been together for six months now—quite a run when it comes to college relationships—and, well, I’m used to him…used to his touch, his smell, his smile. I’ll miss him, but I know he’s right. We should break up, especially before we start hating each other, which is exactly where we’re headed. We’ve started picking fights, waiting and begging for the other to call it quits. We’re too comfortable, too scared to call this what it is—over.
Until now.
“I could have loved you, you know.” His voice cracks and I pull away to find his eyes are glistening with tears of his own. “If we were at different points in our lives, if we didn’t have all this shit waiting for us on the other side of graduation, we could have been good together, Delia.”
“We really could have.”
Caleb sighs. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
“Do you…” He gulps. “Do you want me to leave?”
“Can you stay? Can you hold me one last time?”
His smile is sweet, and it reminds me of the day I first met him at the campus coffeehouse.
With a backpack slung over shoulder, his hair disheveled, and a wrinkled dress shirt partially unbuttoned, he gave me the same smile he is now and asked if he could share my table with me. I had glanced around the shop, certain it had to be a joke.
I was a nobody. Everyone knew he was a somebody.
“Why?”
“Excuse me?” he asked, surprised I was questioning him.
“Why do you want to sit here?”
“Uh, my backpack is heavy as hell.” He hiked it up for show. “And there’s nowhere else to sit in the entire shop. Everyone’s here working on their finals and I’d like to do the same…if you’d be kind enough to let me sit with you.”
I peeked around, noting he was correct in his observation; the place was loaded with students, heads bent and noses stuck in books.
With reluctance, I caved. “Fine,” I said on a sigh. “You can sit here…on two conditions.”
“Name ’em, pretty girl.”
“Amendment: three conditions. No calling me pretty girl. No talking.” He bobbed his head like he’d known that was coming. “And no asking me out.”
He smirked, and it was one of those stop-you-dead-in-your-tracks smirks. “You assume that’ll happen?”
Waving a dismissive hand, I said, “With my sparkling personality, it’s bound to. Now sit and be quiet, mystery man.”
“It’s Caleb.”
I pinned him with a glare. “No talking, and I know who you are, Caleb Mills. You play baseball.” His eyes lit up, so I added, “And I hate baseball.”
Caleb chuckled, took a seat, and didn’t say a word the rest of the afternoon.
Our “accidental” study dates continued for a week, then he asked me out. I said yes and we’ve been together since.
Until now.
I wish with everything I have I could say Caleb is the one, but he’s not. I’ve known for a long time now, but I’ve been too scared to do anything about it. He’s a great guy—smart, kind, focused—and above all, I know he cares for me. I know he loves me, but it’s not in the kind of way we both need him to. I don’t love him that way either. We both know it. We’re better as friends, as Caleb Mills and Delia Devlin, not as Caleb and Delia, the “cutest campus couple to make it” as we were voted for the school gossip ’zine last spring.
“You promise we’ll still be friends, Delia?”
I smile against him. “I couldn’t imagine anything else, Caleb.”
Liam: I’ll need to reschedule our meeting and move it to next week.
Meeting? Reschedule? Why does my brother sound like a big business mogul and not the middle school teacher he is?
Ignoring his weirdness, I shoot over a quick response.
Me: Works for me. Let me know when you want to meet.
Liam: I’ll be in touch.
It’s official: he’s acting strange.
A shuffle of feet pulls me from the response I begin to type. I click off my screen and peek up to find Caleb emerging from the hallway, overnight bag slipped over his shoulder and box in his arms.
I give him a sad smile, and he returns it.
“I think that’s everything.”
“Caleb, I—”
“Come on, Delia. You don’t have to say anything. This is mutual, right? We work better as friends. We pushed for romance where we shouldn’t have, and this is for the best. We agreed, remember? So no more apologizing. Let’s have coffee and then you can give me a hug and walk me to the door. Deal?”
I wipe the errant tear rolling down my cheek and smile at what a sweet man he can be. I’ll miss that side of him. “Deal.”
He sets the box on the floor near the door and strides into the kitchen like we’re not breaking up right now.
“So, how’s life?” Caleb teases as he places his mug on the counter and takes a seat next to me.
“With wit like that, how could I ever let you go?”
He takes a sip of his coffee and smiles at me over the rim of the mug. “I know, I’m a catch.”
“You’re something, Caleb.”
“I’ll miss you.”
I grin. “I know.”
We sit together in silence. You’d think it’d be awkward or sad, but it feels comfortable, like we’re old friends.
After another cup of coffee each, Caleb stands with finality.
“I guess this is it.”
“I guess it is. Let me grab my coat. I’ll walk you down.”
He holds up a hand. “No, there’s no need for you to go all the way down there.”
“Caleb…”
“Delia, come on. Let me have my pride, huh? I don’t want to do the walk of shame with my ex.”
I grab at my chest, tears beginning to fill my eyes again. “That word sounds so harsh.”
“Shame?”
“No, ex. It stings.”
“It’s what we are.”
“I know, Caleb. I know.”
He spreads his arms wide and I smile, falling into them. He wraps me in the saddest hug of my life; I know it will be the last one I share with him that will ever feel this intimate.
“Don’t be a stranger, okay?”
“I won’t.”
He kisses the top of my head then lets me go. I wipe away the tear that’s managed to streak down my cheek as he picks up his bag and box of things.
I grab the door for him and watch with sadness as he steps over the threshold.
“Smile for me, pretty girl,” he says, turning back to me. “It’s not over. It’s the beginning of a new adventure.”
I give him the grin he’s wanting before he turns his back to me, leaving me standing in the doorway, staring after the boy I could have loved.
I close the door and give myself a shake.
“It’s not the end, Delia.”
“Are you talking to yourself again? It’s too early for that crap.” My roommate and best friend Zoe scuffles down the hall, curly caramel hair a mess, hazel eyes puffy from sleep. “I need coffee ASAP.”
“There’s a fresh pot,” I tell her, pointing to the barely touched brew.
“What’s not the end, Delia?”
“Huh?”
She pours
her coffee and dumps enough creamer in there for a village. I make a face as she blows on the hot liquid. “Don’t start on me. You know I like my coffee the same color as my skin, so just shut it.” I wrinkle my nose more and she ignores me, taking a sip of her morning brew. “What were you just talking about? What’s not the end?”