Texting Box Set: The Complete Series

by Teagan Hunter

  I glance out back, my brows pulling together when I see Zach staring down at his phone…again. I try not to be frustrated, but it’s hard.

  “He’s been so…off lately.”

  “Is everything okay with you two?” Monty asks, picking up on the lingering sadness in my voice.

  “Of course!” My response is too quick. “I mean…yeah. We’re good.”

  She doesn’t press, but she doesn’t have to. I can see in her eyes she doesn’t believe me.

  I don’t know if I believe me either.

  I shoot up from the couch, annoyed with myself for thinking that way. “I’m grabbing wine. Anyone want wine? Let’s have wine.”

  Though I can feel tears brimming in my eyes, I casually make my way into the kitchen and away from the curious stares my friends are sending me.

  Fumbling my way through the blurriness, I pull the fridge open and take out a fresh bottle of wine.

  I unscrew the top—because let’s be honest, I’m no fancy bitch—and grab two glasses from the cabinet.

  “Hey.”

  “AH!”

  The wine goes tumbling to the floor, the sound of broken glass echoing. The white liquid soaks my jeans and seeps between my toes, and I’m more annoyed my socks are wet than I am about the spilled wine.

  “Dammit, Zoe!”

  “Shit! I am so sorry, Delia.” She rushes toward me, but I hold my hand out.

  “Stop! Glass.”

  “Then step away so I can hug you!”

  “What’s wrong? What happened?” Monty comes running into the room, Denver hot on her heels. She gasps at the sight before her. “Oh my cats! Delia, get away from there before you cut yourself. Denny, grab me the broom. Zoe, go away. You’re pregnant.”

  Zoe huffs but takes a few steps back. “I’m pregnant, not broken…unlike the bottle Mrs. Butterfingers here just let drop.”

  “Because you scared me! You’re lucky I didn’t shit myself!”

  “Girls don’t poop,” Monty insists quietly.

  “You must be real full of shit then,” Denny says, handing the broom to her sister.

  Monty throws her a look. “Just grab me some towels.”

  “Damn. You’re bossy like your fiancé.”

  I try to stay calm, but the word fiancé sets off the waterworks, and before I know it, I’m enveloped by Zoe’s warm embrace.

  By some miracle, nobody says anything about dramatics. Instead, Zoe silently ushers me upstairs into my bedroom.

  The door clicks closed behind us as she leads me to the bed, pushing at my shoulders until I’m sitting.

  I stay wrapped in her arms, crying until there’s nothing left inside me.

  Sniffling, I eventually push away from her, swiping at the hot tears staining my cheeks.

  “God.” I push out a heavy breath. “I’m a mess.”

  “You are.” She pauses for a moment. “Delia?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

  4

  “God, no!”

  She tilts her head, eyeing me and obviously not believing me. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes!” I sigh. “I swear. I took a test last week and it was negative.”

  “Then why are you such an emotional wreck lately? I have never seen you like you this before. You’re starting to worry me.”

  My chin wobbles and more tears threaten to fall from my eyes, but I blink them away, holding on to my last shred of dignity. She’s right; I’m not usually like this. I’m generally pretty damn good at holding myself together, but at the moment I feel like I’m falling apart at the seams.

  “I don’t know. I think it’s just my hormones or something.”

  “But definitely not pregnant?”

  “Zoe!”

  She holds her hands up. “Fine, fine. Not pregnant—got it.” She bumps her shoulder with mine. “Wanna talk about it?”

  “I don’t know…” I sigh. “I probably should.”

  “Then talk.” She pushes off the bed. “Lie back. Close your eyes. I’ll grab you new clothes, you talk. That way you don’t feel like I’m just staring at you. Maybe you’ll open up more.”

  “That’s dumb.”

  Glaring, she points a finger at me. “Just do what I say.”

  “You’re getting a little too into this whole mommy-tude thing already.”

  “Shut up.” She shoves at my shoulders. “Back.”

  I fall backward, letting myself sink into the comfy bed, exhaling deeply.

  I listen as my best friend shuffles around my closet, letting everything inside me simmer.

  She’s right—I do need to talk about it—but I’m right too. This is dumb. I’m being dumb.

  But what if I’m not?

  “I-I…” Another deep breath. “I think Zach might be over me.”

  Zoe lets out a snort. “Right.”

  “I’m serious, Zoe.”

  “No you’re not. That’s the hormones talking.”

  “Maybe…maybe not. Maybe it’s a five-year relationship that’s going nowhere. Maybe it’s the fact that he’d rather be on his phone working than spend time with me. Maybe it’s that instead of lounging in bed all day long, he’d rather invite our friends over for a stupid barbeque when he hardly even knows how to work a grill. Maybe it’s the fact that we haven’t had sex in three weeks, or that he doesn’t kiss me as passionately as he used to. Maybe, just maybe, he’s bored of me.”

  When she doesn’t respond, I rise up on my elbows, searching her out.

  My mouth drops open when I find her doubled over in laughter.

  I don’t care if she’s pregnant or not—I reach for the nearest pillow and chuck it at her with all my might.

  She’s lucky I’m a bad shot, the pillow landing at least a foot to the left.

  “Stop laughing!”

  Another guffaw. “I can’t.”

  “Zoe!”

  “Maybe, just maybe, you’re being a dumbass.”

  “You are the worst!”

  “What! I’m just being honest. You’re being dumb.”

  I push off the bed and head toward the door, but she beats me there, blocking my exit.

  “Move.”

  “No. Not until we talk about this more.”

  I glare.

  She takes the brunt of my heated stare, not budging.

  “Fine.” I retreat to the bed. “But stop laughing.”

  “I’ll stop laughing when you stop making mountains out of donut holes.”

  “Donut holes?”

  She lifts a slender shoulder. “What? I’m hungry. Just go with it.”

  When she trusts I’m not going to flee, she returns to the closet, flicking through the blouses and dresses hanging in an orderly fashion.

  “I say this with all the love in the world, Delia, but you’re stupid as fuck.”

  “You’re right. I can definitely feel the love.”

  “I’m serious. I love you, you know that, but nobody in this world—not even your mother—loves you more than Zach does, and I’m kind of annoyed with you for even questioning that.”

  “Then why does it feel like we’re drifting apart? Why aren’t we having sex? Why does it sometimes feel like we’re going nowhere?”

  “The no-sex thing is totally normal. You’re not always going to paw at each other like you did when you first started dating.”

  “Do you and Caleb still bang like bunnies?”

  “Hell no.” She snorts. “Sometimes I want to touch him constantly. Sometimes I don’t even want to hear him breathe. It’s all about balance. And as for going nowhere…you’re not going nowhere. Trust me.”

  She says it like she’s never been more sure of anything in her life, and I’m so annoyed I can’t be that certain of my own relationship.

  The stupid tears I’ve barely been holding back fall, and I rush to clean them off before she can see them.

  Like she has a sixth sense or something, Zoe spins my way, giving me a single glan
ce before rushing to my side. Her own chin wobbles, and she’s crying too.

  The thing is, she has that whole bun-in-the-oven reason for being emotional. Me? I’m just a basket case.

  She wraps an arm around me, pulling me into her.

  “I need you to stop crying. I’m not emotionally equipped to see you in tears right now. If you cry, I cry, and I really fucking hate crying.”

  Laughing, I lift my shirt and wipe the tears, not caring about the stain I’ll have from my mascara.

  “How do you know?”

  “That Zach loves you?”

  “Yeah. I mean, how do you know and I don’t?”

  “You know he loves you. Don’t pretend otherwise. You’re just using this whole ‘he doesn’t love me’ bit as a coping mechanism.”

  “For?”

  She puffs out a breath. “Look, I get it—you wanna be Kelly Clarkson circa 2003, Miss Independent and all that shit. You don’t want to want the fairytale happily ever after. You’ve never been that girl, but face it—your friends are all getting theirs and dammit you want one too. It’s natural.” She chucks my chin. “It’s okay to want something more.”

  “H-How did you…”

  “Know?” A shrug. “Because you’re my best friend, Delia—that and I saw how you reacted when Robbie and Monty announced their engagement. You had this spark in your eye that said, I want that, and then you glared at Zach the rest of the night.”

  I gasp. “I did not!”

  She nods. “Afraid so.”

  “Well, shit.”

  Laughing, she stands and heads for the closet yet again. She pulls down Zach’s favorite dress—okay, fine, it’s my favorite—and walks it over to me.

  “Here, put this on.”

  “What? Don’t you think it’s a bit fancy for a barbeque?”

  “When you feel like shit but look like gold, you’re gold, baby.”

  Chuckling, I grab the dress. “Fair enough.”

  I stand, stripping down to my unders. Zoe, more than used to my nudity since we lived together once upon a time, doesn’t bat an eye.

  She takes a seat, crossing her legs and pecking away on her phone—probably reassuring Denny and Monty I’m okay—while I head into the bathroom to straighten myself out.

  I fix the minimal amount of makeup I had on and pull my hair from my messy bun. Twisting it into a side braid, I try not to overthink everything…again.

  “Hey Zoe?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you think I’m stupid for wanting to marry Zach?”

  “Are you serious? I’m surprised as shit you two didn’t do what Shep and Denny did and run off to Vegas shortly after you agreed to move in with him. You and Zach were made for each other, Delia. Nothing is going to come between you.”

  “What if he doesn’t want to marry me?”

  “I don’t think that’s something you need to worry about.”

  Pausing mid-twist, I poke my head into the bedroom, eyeing her. “Why do you sound so certain about that? Has he said something to you? To Caleb?”

  “No, dumbass.” She taps the side of her head. “I’m just using logic instead of my emotions.”

  “Shut up,” I mutter, returning my attention to the task at hand.

  “Here’s a genius idea: why don’t you, I dunno, talk to your boyfriend about it?”

  “It’s hard.”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “Zoe!”

  “What?” she says with innocence. “You walked right into that one.”

  “I’m being serious.”

  “I am too. Right into it.”

  “No, I mean about it being hard. I know it sounds easier to just talk to him instead of agonizing over it, but talking about it is…awkward. I don’t want to sound desperate for validation by bringing it up.”

  “Honey, you’re dating him. He already knows you’re desperate.”

  I ignore her. “How do you tell someone you love them but you want more?”

  “Just spitballing here, but have you tried I love you, but I want more?”

  I roll my eyes, walking out into the bedroom. “Remind me why I’m friends with you again?”

  “Because I was the one who told you to put that dress on and you look fabulous in it.”

  “Oh, is that why?” I twirl. “I do look great.”

  “Do you feel any better?”

  “A little, but I still want to talk to him.”

  “So do it. Talk to him. It’s simpler than you’re making it.”

  Talk to him.

  She’s right. I should talk to him.

  Bravery inflates me, and I have the sudden urge to barge down those stairs and tell Zach exactly how I feel. I know myself well enough to know if I don’t take advantage of the sudden flood of courage, I’ll lose it.

  “Zoe?”

  She doesn’t look up from her phone. “That’s me.”

  “I’m gonna talk to him.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “No, Zoe.” She finally shifts her eyes my way. “I’m gonna talk to him.”

  “Good. You should.”

  “I am going to talk to him—right now.”

  Her eyes widen. “Like now now?”

  “Yep, because if I don’t, I’ll chicken out.”

  I march toward the door, adrenaline surging through my veins.

  “Now now?” she shrieks, charging off the bed after me.

  “Yes, dammit!”

  “With all our friends here?”

  “Yep!”

  I race down the stairs, bypassing Monty and Denny, who sit there stunned, probably confused as hell.

  I fling open the back door, scaring Shep and Caleb, who are relaxing on the patio as Robbie and Zach race down the slide.

  “What’s going on?” Denny asks as she and Monty join us outside.

  “Hey, Hastings!” I yell out across the lawn.

  Zach catches himself mid-slide, dark hair dripping, water sliding down his cut body, and turns his attention fully on me.

  “Yeah, Devlin?”

  “I wanna marry you!”

  5

  “All right. Which one of you shits told her?”

  They all shake their heads.

  “Told me what?” I ask.

  “Come on. Was it you, Zoe? You suck at secrets.”

  “Hey, take that back!” She points at him angrily, looking every bit the mama bear she’s soon to become. “I didn’t say shit!”

  “Robbie?” Zach accuses.

  He holds his hands up. “No way, bro. I know better.”

  “All right, then who?”

  I march toward him, not stopping until I’m a foot away, hands on my hips. I peer up into his captivating green eyes, my toes tapping against the grass.

  “Told me what, Zachary?”

  “What today is.”

  “An impromptu cookout?”

  His brows draw together as he stares down at me, tongue darting out to catch the water dripping down his face. He’s watching me closely, looking for any sign I’m messing with him.

  I’m not.

  “You really don’t know?”

  “No, dammit!” I stamp my foot, annoyed, because I’m clearly missing out on something big. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

  “Your wedding!”

  My hand flies to my chest and a sharp gasp rushes from my lungs.

  “M-My w-what?”

  He sighs, running a hand over his face. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go, but fuck it.”

  The last thing I was ever expecting happens before my eyes.

  Zach drops to one knee, and my heart drops right along with him. He looks up at me with a shy grin, something I’m not used to from him.

  “Delia Devlin, will you marry me?”

  I’m frozen.

  Completely shocked.

  I stand there, mouth hanging open, staring down at the man of my dreams…just blinking.

  I don’t know how much time passes, but it’s
long enough for Zach’s smile to begin to waver.

  “Delia?” he says, speaking quietly so only I can hear him. “Did you hear me?”

  Something snaps inside me, and the next thing I know, I’m swatting at him.

  “Ouch! Hey! Watch it!” He pushes to his feet, moving away from my assault. “Is that a no?”

  “You stubborn asshole!” I whack him again. “I swear to god, Zachary…”

  “I’m starting to think it’s a no.”

  “You made me sit around waiting for five fucking years for you to try to surprise me with my own wedding day? Are you shitting me?”

  “N-No?”

  “OH MY GOD!” I pinch his nipple between my thumb and forefinger, twisting it hard. “PURPLE NURPLE!”

  “JESUS DELIA!” He wrenches himself out of my grip. “This is the worst proposal ever!”

  “You’re telling me, you ass! I cannot believe you right now!”

  “Are you saying yes or no?”

  “YES!” I screech. “You know it’s yes.”

  “This is so weird,” I hear Robbie say.

  Zach and I yell at the same time, “Shut up, Robbie!”

  Caleb snickers, and we both glare at him. He whistles, taking a sip of beer, averting his gaze.

  “What the hell were you thinking, Zach?”

  “That I love you?”

  “I’m serious!”

  “I am too, Delia. I love the shit out of you.”

  “Shit is the least romantic thing in the entire world, Zach,” I shoot back, echoing his words from earlier. “Why now, huh? After all this time?”

  He grins, and I know he wants to call me on my unintentional Harry Potter reference, but he knows better than to do so in the middle of a conversation this serious.

  “Honestly?”

  “No. Lie to me,” I smart off.

  He ignores me. “It was that night in the restaurant when dipshit over there”—he points to Robbie—“beat me to the punch and announced that he’d proposed to Monty. Something inside me clicked and I thought, That should be us.”

  He grabs my hands, trapping them in his own, and tugs me closer. My breath catches, heart racing so hard I’m almost afraid I’m going to have a heart attack right here in front of everyone.

  I know they’re all staring, but right now it feels as if it’s just the two of us.