Texting Box Set: The Complete Series

by Teagan Hunter

  Duty fucking calls.

  As if she can feel my eyes on her, she turns around and gives me a small wave.

  I hold my hand up, telling her staying out there is fine. The last thing I need is for her to come in here and see my morning wood.

  Coffee? I mouth.

  She nods and turns back around to the view before her, paying me no mind as I continue to scroll my eyes over her body. So many curves, so much softness and sass rolled into one.

  With reluctance, I turn away and head into the kitchen. I pull the canister of coffee from the cabinet and brew half a pot, which should be plenty for the two of us.

  The balcony door slides open and Steve comes scampering inside, his feet barely getting traction on the hardwood floors.

  “Morning, you little shit.”

  “Well, good morning to you too,” Denny says.

  “I meant this little traitor, but yes, good morning to you.”

  “Oh.” She blushes. “Good morning. That coffee smells amazing.”

  “I know.” I pull open the fridge. “I’m sorry to report that I don’t have your coffee creamer here since I wasn’t expecting you to stay over. I do have milk—will that do?”

  “Ugh. I’ll settle.” She shuffles over to the island. “I hope you don’t mind but I borrowed some of your clothes.”

  “Do you know how hot it is to see a girl wearing your clothes?”

  “No. I’m usually annoyed when I find another girl wearing my clothes.”

  I roll my eyes, and she grins.

  The coffee pot dings as it finishes up the brew and I pour us each a healthy cup of caffeine.

  “What woke you up so early?”

  Leaning against the counter, she blows on the hot java. “I’m naturally an early riser, though I probably could have slept another hour with your blackout curtains. I owe this early wakeup to Allie…again. She wants to meet and go over maid of honor duties.”

  “AJ called me too. They want to do breakfast in an hour.”

  She groans. “I know. I was hoping he’d have left you out of it though.”

  “Really? Even after last night?” I tease.

  “Especially after last night.”

  “Does your mother know you lie this much?”

  She pushes off the counter, sauntering into the living room. “I’m going to need more coffee to handle you today.”

  I watch as she pads around the space, looking at the knickknacks scattered along the custom shelving I have built around my flat-screen.

  “You don’t put your trophies out?”

  “Nah. I’m full of myself, but not that full of myself.”

  “Could have fooled me,” she smarts off. “You have a lot of balls.”

  “I hardly think two is a lot, but thank you.”

  She sighs. “A lot of signed balls.”

  “Ah, yes. I do. I got most of them when I was a kid, but I’ve managed to make a couple friends and score some extras in the last couple years.”

  “Must be nice to be famous.”

  “I’m hardly famous, Den.”

  “Around here you are. It’s kind of annoying.”

  “Only kind of?” I tease.

  “You’re right—it’s massively annoying. Do you know how hard it is to avoid someone when they’re constantly thrown in your face?”

  “So you’re finally admitting you avoided me for four years?”

  “I’d hardly call seeing you four times a week avoiding you.”

  “But you tried. You tried real fucking hard, always running out of class first, ignoring me at the paper, dodging me around campus. I once saw you enter a bar, make eye contact with me, and then leave—tell me that isn’t avoiding me.”

  “Fine,” she concedes, turning around to stare at me with hurt eyes. “I did try, but can you blame me, Shep? After everything?”

  I look down at the cup in my hands, ashamed. “You’re right.”

  “I know I am.” She turns her attention back to the shelves. “It’s nice to know you were watching me so closely though.”

  “It’s impossible not to.”

  She pauses at my words, but only for a second.

  When she stops at the last shelf, I don’t miss the way her breath hitches, like she’s surprised I kept her gift all these years.

  “I’ve read them all multiple times.”

  Her shoulders rise and fall with her uneven breaths.

  She likes that I kept the Captain America comics she sent me so many years ago. Even more than that, she likes that they’re bagged and boarded even with being so well read.

  Denny gives herself a small shake and strides toward the kitchen, setting her mug on the counter. “You should be keeping them in sleeves. I’ll be ready to go in ten minutes.”

  “Oh my god, would you quit it? I didn’t mess it up that bad.”

  “This is why I don’t let people drive Shelia.”

  “You are so dramatic,” she mutters in that smartass tone of hers I love. “Just drive. We’re already late.”

  “We wouldn’t be running late if you’d moved at more than a glacial pace this morning. You said ten minutes—that was definitely more like thirty.”

  “I had to do something with the rat’s nest on my head.”

  I glance over at her disastrous-looking top knot. “Well, you missed a spot—or ten.”

  “It’s artfully messy,” she argues.

  “How did you forget to pack pajamas but not an outfit for the day?”

  She points to the bag she’s holding on her lap. “That’s what us girls call an emergency one-night stand bag. I didn’t plan on needing pajamas.”

  “You’re saying you planned on sleeping with me last night?”

  She rolls her eyes. “This bag is not specific to our…situation last night. It’s just a general one-night stand bag.”

  “Uh huh. You totally wanted to bang me last night, but I shot ya down. Couldn’t let you take advantage of me in the back of a truck.”

  “I will yank Shelia right from your grip and run us into the nearest telephone pole.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” I seethe, gripping the wheel tighter just in case.

  “Try me.”

  I step on the gas, attempting to shave a few minutes off our drive…and keep Shelia safe from Denny.

  There’s a small yip sounding like it comes from the vicinity of the passenger seat as the car lurches forward.

  Huh. Weird.

  Ignoring it, I turn on the radio, and the sounds of Sinatra fill the cab.

  “You still listen to this?”

  I feel my cheeks begin to heat. “Yes.”

  “Are you still hiding your love of old-school music?”

  “Yes.”

  She laughs. “I kind of like that I’m the only one who knows that secret.”

  “I did confess it to Zach, but he’s not a real person, so you’re still the only one. Not even AJ knows.”

  “Wow, I feel special,” she says distractedly.

  I glance over to see her slide open the zipper on her bag just enough to slip her hand inside.

  “What are you doing, Den?”

  “N-Nothing,” she says, clearly guilty of something.

  The bag moves.

  I hit the brakes.

  “Denver Andrews! Tell me you did not stuff my pug into your ratchet duffle bag.”

  “Well do you want me to lie to you then?”

  “Denny!”

  “What!” She unzips the bag fully and pulls Steve out, snuggling him against her face. “Look how cute he is.”

  “I cannot believe you right now.”

  “He was so lonely, Shep. I couldn’t leave him in your apartment all by himself.”

  “We don’t even have his leash.”

  She digs into the bag again, producing his leash, water bowl, and treats.

  I shake my head, slightly annoyed but even more amused.

  This woman, I swear.

  “It’s too late to turn back n
ow. We’ll be even later.”

  “How did I not notice this?”

  She kisses Steve’s nose. “Because you’re a dumbass.”

  Surprisingly, Steve does a really good job in the car, Denny calming him down when we have to stop and his anxiety gets the best of him.

  When we finally pull up to the restaurant, we’re miraculously only ten minutes late.

  Denny snaps Steve’s leash on and gets out of the truck.

  “Hope Allie and AJ don’t mind sitting outside, Steve.” She shakes her head at me. “Can’t believe you’re so codependent you brought your dog, Shep.”

  “I-I… You… You!” I sputter, dazed by her accusations. “I swear, Den, I’m going to kiss you today.”

  “I’ll kiss you back.” She winks. “Now go get us a table.”

  I shuffle inside, finding our friends and explaining to them the fact that we need to move this breakfast date outside because Denver is a psycho.

  AJ finds it amusing. Allie’s just confused about why we came together.

  “What the hell is this?” she says to Denny as we all sit down at the new table outside.

  Steve tucks himself into Denny’s lap.

  “This is Steve. Steve, meet Allie, your aunt.”

  “Oh my gosh, he is so cute. When did you get him?”

  “He—”

  “Just last night,” Denny cuts me off. “Shep gave him to me as a gift. Isn’t he just the sweetest?”

  “What! You bought her a puppy?” Allie screeches.

  “No, you nut. Your best friend is just insane,” AJ tells her.

  I point to my best friend. “What he said.”

  Though, if I’m being honest, I did buy the pug with Denny in mind.

  I don’t even want to admit how many hours I spent trying to find a way to get her that puppy for Christmas all those years ago, but I couldn’t make it happen. I couldn’t make the purse happen either.

  So, I settled on sending her one of her favorite comics, signed. And coal, of course.

  That pug never left my mind. When I found out I would be on disciplinary probation the rest of the season, I’d figured I’d have a long-ass time off to finally train a puppy, so I bit the bullet and here we are.

  Denny covers Steve’s ears. “You don’t listen to a word they’re saying about your new mommy. Meanies.”

  “Clinical,” I remark.

  Denver shields the dog’s eyes and flips me off.

  “Did you two ride here together?” AJ asks.

  “We…did,” I answer carefully, looking to Denny to see how she’d like me to answer that.

  “I stayed the night after the gala. And no, before it’s brought up again at a later point, Shep did not score a homerun with me. I’m not as clinically insane as he believes me to be.”

  Leave it to her to just put it all out there like that, like sex is completely normal breakfast conversation.

  “Debatable,” I argue.

  “Hey! Be nice to my maid of honor.”

  “Tell your maid of honor she needs medical help and I’ll consider it.”

  “He might not be entirely wrong, Denver,” Allie admits with a smirk.

  “Quit ganging up on me or I’ll take my puppy and leave,” she announces.

  “My puppy.”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “For now.”

  Her lips twitch when I meet her stare, and I’m trying real fucking hard not to knock this table over and cover her mouth with mine.

  Like she knows what’s going through my mind, she lifts a challenging brow.

  Oh fuck.

  I scoot my chair into the table more, hoping to cover my growing dick.

  Damn. What the fuck is wrong with me? It’s like I’m fifteen and unable to control my boners all over again.

  “Anyway,” Allie says pointedly, interrupting our stare-down. “We’re here to talk about important dates and duties.”

  She begins rattling off information, way more than I can process or care to process, and Denny takes it all in. She passes Steve to me, pulling her phone out and taking careful notes.

  I order breakfast for Denny while AJ takes care of Allie, both of us way too afraid to interrupt them.

  “So what gives, man?” my best friend asks quietly, the girls still absorbed by their discussion of flowers.

  “What do you mean?”

  The look he gives me says he doesn’t buy my shit.

  “It’s just what Den said—she was tired after the gala last night and stayed over.”

  “Sure, understandable, but care to tell me why she was at the charity event with you in the first place? Last I heard you were taking Penny.”

  “Shh!” I whisper angrily, peering over at Denny and Allie to make sure neither of them heard that.

  They aren’t paying us a lick of attention.

  “Keep that shit on the DL,” I tell my friend.

  He jerks his head back. “She doesn’t know about that?”

  “No, and I want to keep it that way.”

  “What are you up to, Shepard?”

  “A bunch of none of your goddamn business.”

  My eyes drift back over to Denver, loving how animated and into the conversation she is. She’s genuinely happy for her best friend, and I love that about her.

  She once told me about her goals for life. She’d meet the one in college, they’d fall madly in love with just the right amount of angst in their relationship, and then when college was over, they’d get hitched, spending the rest of their days happy as fucking clams.

  Or some shit like that.

  I know she wanted that to be us.

  I sure as shit screwed that one up.

  “Just be careful, man,” AJ says. “Last time you two were together it didn’t end well. She wrecked you.”

  My eyes still focused on Denny, I tell him, “No, AJ, I wrecked us, and I’m not going to make that same mistake again.”

  14

  Denver

  “I need you to not freak out when I tell you what I’m about to tell you.”

  “Well, that’s super reassuring.” Monty tosses her long hair over her shoulder. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  She sits across from me at the breakfast bar, another Wednesday already here, another stack of pancakes to be had.

  I flip the one sitting in the pan, avoiding her curious stare.

  “Wait!” She holds her hand up. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

  “What? No! Babies are gross!” I shiver in disgust. “I’m way too diligent about that shit to get knocked up.”

  “Good.” She sits back, looking relieved. “That’s good. So, what’s up then?”

  I take a deep breath, ready to unleash years and years of secrets on my sister.

  Luckily for me, I know she’s way too nice to try to maim me for keeping my mouth zipped tight. Plus, she knows the kind of house we grew up in, knows why I needed to keep this secret.

  At least I hope she knows.

  “Okay, so, remember in high school how I told you I had this…pen pal?”

  “I remember,” she says.

  “Well, remember when we started texting on my secret phone because I said buying stamps was getting too expensive?”

  “Yes…though now I realize that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.”

  “No, it doesn’t, especially considering those damn phone cards cost a whole hell of a lot more than a fucking stamp.”

  She laughs. “Very true.”

  I note the way she doesn’t flinch when I use profanity, a huge step up from the Monty of last year.

  I guess that’s what happens when your prim and proper twin sister snags herself a tattooed bad boy…who also happens to be one hell of a sexy single dad.

  If only I’d seen him first…

  I move the finished pancake to a plate then slide it over to Monty.

  “What about that though?”

  “Well…” I drag out, pouring more batter into the skillet. “I was texting with a
guy.”

  She lifts a cardigan-clad shoulder. She might be dating a bad boy, but the girl still dresses like she’s a kindergarten teacher. “I kind of figured that much.”

  “He’s…” I lick my suddenly dry lips and decide to just rip the band-aid off. “Fuck it. He’s kind of the reason I moved across the country.”

  A crease forms between her brows. “I thought you moved to go to school with Allie.”

  “I mean, technically I did, but it was also because of him. He’s best friends with AJ.”

  Her mouth drops open. “Oh. I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “Yeah, well, I wasn’t expecting him.” I shake my head. “Anyway, I came out here to be with him. I—”

  She holds her hand up again and I pause.

  She swallows the food in her mouth. “Sorry. I had a question.”

  “Go on.”

  “When you say be with him, you mean…”

  I sigh. “I was in love with him, Monty.”

  Her fork clatters to the plate and I glance over at her. She’s shocked.

  “But you didn’t even know him!”

  “Says the girl who met her boyfriend in a bar bathroom then proceeded to text him for weeks and weeks before falling in love with him.”

  Her shoulders sag in defeat.

  “I didn’t know him?” I challenge.

  She shakes her head. “No, no, you’re right.” She stabs another piece of pancake and lifts her fork to her mouth. “Keep going.”

  I flip the pancake and continue. “Like I said, I was in love with him, like move across the goddamn country and leave my life behind kind of love. I was delusional.”

  “You were young.”

  “I was stupid,” I argue. “I was so stupid because it turned out he didn’t love me like I thought he did.”

  “What does that mean?”

  The night of Shep’s betrayal runs through my mind, but I refuse to relive that torment in story form with Monty.

  The memories are bad enough.

  “It’s not important. We’ll just say it didn’t work out.”

  “But you’ll tell me eventually, right?”

  “Maybe when you’re older,” I tease. It’s something I’ve always told her and something that’s always annoyed her, because I’m only five minutes older than she is.

  “Brat.”

  I point the spatula her way. “First, I cannot believe you just called me a brat. Second, now I’m really not telling you.”