Texting Box Set: The Complete Series

by Teagan Hunter

  “That right there, that small flick of a glance my way—it’s one of about five times you’ve looked away from her all night. You might have introduced her as Bucky, whatever the hell that’s about, but it’s easy to see that’s Denny.”

  He didn’t go to college with me and Gerard, so he has no idea who Denny is…how important she is to me. None of the others that night knew either, not even Gerard, which is probably why they were so freaked out when I pounced on him for bragging about what an easy bang Denny was.

  I don’t try to act like I’m a good guy, don’t hide the fact that I can be a huge fucking ass and have been one in the past. I’ve made massive mistakes, ones that have changed relationships with people I love. I’ve bragged about my conquests. I’ve treated women like toys. I might be a king, but I never said I wasn’t an asshole too.

  That said, I am trying to change, trying to be a better man, one worthy of love.

  One worthy of Denver.

  I just hope she can see that too.

  Like I conjured her up, she appears in front of us.

  Braxton steps toward her, holding his hand out. “Hi, I’m Braxton James. I play with this douchebag over here.”

  “Oh, I know exactly who you are, Mr. James. You have one hell of a batting average.”

  She takes his hand, and the strength of the champagne glass I’m holding is tested when he brushes his thumb over the back of hers in a not strictly friendly way.

  Fucker.

  “I’m Denver, or Denny to some, Bucky to this asshole, and I’m only here with him because he’s blackmailing me.”

  “Blackmailing, huh?” Braxton looks my way. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

  I flip him off and he laughs.

  “I’m going to head out. Party’s winding down and I’ve done my duty.” He turns back to Denny. “If you need any rescuing, you just let me know. I’ll take care of you.” He winks at her, knowing he’s getting under my skin, then pulls me into a bro hug, clapping me on the back just a little too hard. “Don’t fuck it up, dick.”

  I push him away, glaring. “Get bent, Braxton.”

  He just laughs then says, “Great meeting you, Denver. Have a good night.”

  He disappears into the crowd and my jaw relaxes for the first time in several minutes.

  We’re left alone, and I know Denny is dying to shoot many questions at me, questions I’m not ready to answer just yet.

  I’m spared when a few other players stop by to bid us good night, and then it’s finally our turn to leave.

  It’s a rule with the players. We have a roster, rotating who gets to leave charity events first and last, spacing out our departures by at least fifteen minutes.

  Tonight, Denny and I are second to last, and for the first time in…well, ever, I want to stick around the stuffy gala just to avoid a car ride with a beautiful woman.

  “It’s our turn,” I tell her, having explained the roster on the way here. “I’ll go grab our coats.”

  She says good night to a few people she’s met this evening—because of course Denny, social butterfly that she is, would make friends at the gala—and I head to the coat check.

  We’re quiet the entire time, even standing there in the cool night air not saying a word as the valet pulls my truck around.

  He hands over the keys and I give him a well-deserved tip for not messing my baby up.

  I’m surprised when I turn around to find Denny sitting in the driver’s seat.

  I wrench open the door. “Fuck no. Move it, Bucky.”

  “Not happening. You drank tonight. I’m driving.”

  “I had a few sips of nasty champagne.”

  She holds her fingers up. “You had three. That’s enough for me to not want you to drive. Get in and shut up.”

  “It’s not even real alcohol!” I argue.

  “A drink is a damn drink.”

  I did knock down three glasses, but I’m not drunk. If I were to drive right now, I’d be fine.

  Which is probably exactly what someone who shouldn’t be driving would say.

  “Fine,” I grumble, climbing inside. “But I swear, if anything happens to my truck, I’ll kiss you.”

  Her lips twitch at what we both know is a non-threat.

  “Just for that, I promise to drive extra careful.”

  She adjusts the seat, pushes in the brake, and hits the button to start the truck.

  “I’ve never driven a truck before.”

  “I can tell. You look stiff.”

  She darts her eyes down to my lap. “You’ve looked stiff all night.”

  “I’m sorry—did you just admit to looking at my dick all night?” I smirk at her. “My, my, Denny. I didn’t expect this from you.”

  “You know what, on second thought, maybe I will wreck this truck, put us both out of our misery.”

  “So you want me to kiss you?” I grin, knowing I have her trapped.

  She groans. “I thought I told you to shut up, Shep.”

  Laughing, I unbutton my jacket and settle into the seat, shuffling around the heels she’s thrown on the floor.

  “Are you driving barefoot?”

  “No.”

  “Then where are your shoes?”

  “On my feet. Remember that bag I tucked into the back? It has normal people clothes in it for when we stop and grab burgers.”

  “I’m sorry, but for when we what?”

  She lifts a shoulder. “Grab burgers. What part of that is hard to understand?”

  “Did you have this planned?”

  “Yes.”

  “What the hell?”

  “What?” she says innocently. “I know you hate stuffy social gatherings, so I figured you’d be drinking. I also know they most definitely do not serve delicious foods at those things and therefore knew I’d be starving by the time it was over, and I also knew I would one hundred percent be ready to get out of this dress for the hour-long drive home.”

  She glances at me when I don’t say anything.

  “What? I like to be prepared.”

  “You just wanted to drive my truck.”

  “Yes, this was all one big elaborate scheme to drive this sexy beast.”

  I rub the dashboard. “She is sexy.”

  “She?”

  “Yes. Shelia. Isn’t she a beauty?”

  “You’re so weird, Shep.”

  “You’re secretly into it, Den.”

  “Gag me.”

  “I thought we established that I’m not into asphyxiation.”

  “I’m about to gag you,” she threatens.

  “So you are into it. I’ll make a note for later. Maybe it’s something we can try together.”

  I’m not surprised when she reaches over and pinches my thigh…hard.

  “Brat.”

  “You’re secretly into it,” she fires back.

  11

  Denver

  “Would you fucking quit it?”

  “What?” I say through a mouthful of food. Real attractive, Denny.

  “Moaning. It’s annoying.”

  I grin. “Bullshit. Annoying is code for getting you all hot and bothered.”

  He rolls his eyes and takes another bite of his burger, which tells me my assessment is spot-on.

  I stopped at the first burger joint I could find and forced Shep to buy me dinner as I changed into something much more comfortable.

  My legs swing back and forth as we sit on the tailgate of his truck—because he wouldn’t let us eat in the cab—as we finish off the last of our meals.

  I stuff my face with another handful of fries.

  “Hot, Den. Real hot.”

  I steal one of his fries just for his remark.

  “Adding thief to your resume now, huh? Here.” He hands me his milkshake. “Might as well take this too.”

  “You know what, I will take this, but only because you owe me an ice cream.”

  “I do?”

  “Yes. You stole mine last week—or did you forget
already?”

  “Huh.” He looks out at the parking lot, grinning. “Must have slipped my mind.”

  The lights are illuminating him in a way that makes him look like the god everyone seems to think he is.

  Shep in jeans and a tee is hot enough. Shep sitting on the bed of a truck in a tux?

  I might as well just throw my panties on the ground right now because holy shit.

  Watching him work the room tonight was…unexpected. He was kind, polite, patient—basically the exact opposite of the cocky-in-a-not-so-sexy-way Shep I knew throughout college. Tonight, it was almost like he was the Shep I knew before.

  The Shep I miss.

  But the man he was tonight doesn’t align with who he was last month…which is as confusing as it is concerning.

  I’ve been trying to bite my tongue, but there have been so many questions rolling around in my head since we left.

  What did that guy mean when he said I’m the one who caused the fight Shep was involved in last month? How would that even be possible? I wasn’t anywhere near that area. Hell, we weren’t even on speaking terms then. I still hated him.

  Well, hated him as much as I could.

  “Quit staring. It’s rude.”

  Caught red-handed, I avert my gaze.

  Just ask him.

  “You can ask, you know. I’ve been waiting for it all night.”

  I sit up straighter, weirded out that he knows what I’m thinking. “Ask what?”

  “Don’t play games, Bucky. It doesn’t suit you. You can ask what Braxton meant.”

  “What did Braxton mean?” The words tumble from my lips even though I’m scared of the answer.

  “You remember Jacob Gerard from college? Played on the team with me?”

  “I can’t picture his face but the name sounds familiar.”

  I watch the muscles in Shep’s jaw jump. “He remembers you, Den—quite well, actually.”

  “Okay,” I say, stretching the word out, confused. “What about him?”

  “Last month I was up north, hanging with some guys from the team and some from college after one of the games. Gerard was there. We were sitting around…” He pauses, trying to choose his next words carefully. “Let’s just say we were talking about our college experiences.”

  The way he says it gives it away.

  “You mean your college conquests.”

  He shuffles around uncomfortably, and I can’t help but laugh.

  “Trust me, Shep, I know you’re not a virgin. The whole fucking college knew you weren’t a virgin. No need to act shy about it now.”

  “You weren’t exactly an angel yourself.”

  “You’d be real damn surprised,” I mutter.

  He’s right, I wasn’t an angel in college. I had my fair share of flings and fun, but I didn’t sleep around as much as people tended to say I did. In fact, most of the guys I brought home with me just ended up getting to second base and that was as far as things went.

  I knew they were running back and telling their friends they were scoring homeruns, but I didn’t care, because I knew it was pissing Shep off.

  Hence why I “dated” half the baseball team.

  He’d get so mad every time he’d see one of his teammates with me. I loved to see the way his teeth clenched together, the nagging that could have been mine feeling that shone through his eyes.

  Was it petty of me to flaunt that in front of Shep? Sure, but it was wrong of him to break my fucking heart too.

  Fair is fair.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing,” I tell him. “Tell me what I have to do with what happened last month.”

  His knuckles turn white as he clenches the edge of the tailgate, staring out into the parking lot with rage and annoyance on his face.

  “You might not remember Gerard, but he definitely remembers you. I had to sit through a rather detailed description of your…time together before he told us your name.”

  He’s upset—fuming almost.

  “And your asinine conversation earned him a good beating because…”

  “Because it’s you, Den!” he explodes, leaping off the truck. “Because I had to hear in excruciating detail about all the things that should have been mine!”

  His? HIS?!

  “You have got to be kidding me, Shepard. You ruined us!”

  I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself, not wanting to let him get the best of me yet again.

  “It was you,” I repeat, quieter. “Not me. You don’t get to be mad at me for moving on with my life, especially not when you more than moved on. If you think I haven’t had to hear all about your escapades, you’re dead wrong, buddy.”

  He stands there, breathing hard, chest pumping with adrenaline.

  “Is that why you hit him? Because I had sex with him?”

  “No. I hit him because he didn’t respect you enough to keep his fucking mouth shut about it.”

  I’m taken aback by his words. “You say that like you’ve never participated in that kind of bragging before.”

  “I have.” He nods. “You’re right. But I’m not that person anymore. I can’t be that person anymore. I have to be better. I’ve lost too much being that guy.”

  “Lost what?”

  “Never mind,” he mutters. “Point is, it wasn’t okay for Gerard to do that shit, so I taught him a lesson.”

  “If you ask me—”

  “I didn’t,” he interrupts.

  I ignore him.

  “I’d say it was just jealousy, not you wanting to teach him anything.”

  “Jealousy?” He laughs sardonically. “No, Den, that was definitely not jealousy.”

  “Sounds like it to me.”

  Suddenly, he’s stalking toward me, not stopping until he’s shoved himself between my legs. My lips part on an involuntary gasp and his fiery hazel stare is drawn to the movement. Heat floods my core as his scent hits me, all man mixed with just a touch of cinnamon. My cheeks burn where his hand cups my jaw.

  I don’t move. I can’t.

  I’m entranced. Captivated.

  And so fucking turned on it hurts.

  “I wasn’t jealous, Den.”

  “N-No?” I stammer.

  “No, because I know if I wanted to—and I mean if I really fucking wanted to—I could have you, anytime, any place. You can’t say no to me, Bucky.”

  “I can too.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Bullshit bullshit,” I whisper.

  His lips fall to mine with a gentleness I wasn’t expecting.

  He pulls back, looking into my eyes, that angry fire now replaced by a yearning one.

  Is this okay? they ask.

  It’s not okay…yet it’s the most euphoric I’ve ever felt.

  It’s not okay…yet I want it more than anything I’ve ever wanted before, even though I shouldn’t.

  It’s not okay…but in this moment, I don’t care. I want it too badly to care.

  I press my hand to his cheek, running my fingers over the stubble already growing there.

  He takes it as the yes it is, and this time his lips aren’t gentle. They’re hard and demanding and filled with so much unvoiced want.

  Want that’s been bottled up for years and years.

  Want that’s been hidden behind facades and insults and lies to make ourselves feel better about what we really want.

  Shepard Clark doesn’t hate me. He never hated me.

  And I never hated him either.

  Our tongues twist together as I wrap my legs around his waist.

  Through my thin leggings, I can feel his cock brushing against my wet pussy, and I wish there were nothing between us, wish he would lift us up into the bed of his truck and have his way with me.

  Without warning, he picks me up, carries me around the passenger side, and pulls the back door open. He tosses me inside like I weigh nothing, and I scoot until I’m on the other side of the cab, shoving my overpriced dress onto the floor. He
climbs in after me, not stopping until I’m lying underneath him.

  “That’s a lot better,” he mutters before his mouth finds mine again.

  His dick presses back against my center and the friction nearly sends me over the edge.

  It’s also enough to knock me out of the haze I’m in.

  What the hell am I doing?

  I can’t do this, not with Shep, and certainly not in the back of his truck.

  I push at him and he instantly pulls away, but that doesn’t stop him from rocking his hips against me one more time.

  “We have to stop.”

  He rests his head against my chest, his breaths labored and erratic, matching my own. “I know, but I really don’t want to. My dick will probably fall off if we stop now.”

  I laugh at his dramatics. “Guess you’ll just have to be dickless.”

  “I don’t think you’d like me near as much then.”

  “I don’t even like you now, Shep.”

  That’s not a lie, and we both know it.

  I don’t like Shep, but I don’t hate him either.

  We’re walking this thin line, the same one we’ve always walked, and right now it’s too much. I don’t know what to do with it, but I know for sure I don’t want to do something I’ll regret later…like letting him fuck me in the back seat of his truck.

  He pulls back, sitting up and scrubbing a hand over his face. “You’re right. Our first time can’t be in the back of a truck.”

  “You say that like I was going to sleep with you.”

  He leans over to press a hard kiss to my lips, and I let him, our tongues quickly becoming a tangled web.

  Before it can escalate—well, any more than it already has—Shep pulls away, grinning like he knows something no one else does.

  “What’d I say about games, Den?”

  I shove him away and he laughs.

  “So while you were plotting your whole evening so you could drive Shelia, did you think about the fact that I drove us to the gala? From your apartment?”

  Shit. I totally forgot about that.

  “Yes,” I lie. “I was going to Uber from your place to mine.”

  “You were going to call a car at this hour? And what—get murdered?”

  He throws my words from last week back at me with a grin.

  Can’t believe I just kissed this asshole.

  Actually, yes, I totally can.