Txt Oakland

SIX-PACK SERIES BOOK THREE *While this book can be read as a standalone, I'd highly recommend reading books one (Alpha Gray) and two (Alpha Theo) for context before this book* JAX : I'm no stranger to one night stands. Lots of girls want a hook-up with an alpha, so why should this one be any different? Maybe it's because she's the best I ever had. Maybe it's because she refused to tell me anything about herself. We agreed to one night, no strings attached. The problem is, I can't get that night out of my head; I've been obsessed with finding this girl since. When she shows up at the squad complex for training, I feel like it's my lucky day- until my best friend introduces her as his sister and things get... complicated. I can't go against bro code, right? Even if Quinn is my dream girl. Even if there's a crazy attraction between us that's harder to resist every day. I'm so screwed.  ~ QUINN : One night. It was supposed to be one night of anonymous, meaningless with a stranger. I just wanted to have a good time and forget about my cheating ex. It definitely did the trick- I haven't thought about my ex since, but now I can't stop thinking about that night or the sexy stranger who had all the right moves. When I arrive at the complex for a fresh start, I'm shocked to see him again- and even more surprised to find out that he's not only an alpha, but also one of my brother's best friends. Theo would Jax if he found out about that night. He can never know- which means I have to keep my distance. Even if I can't stop fantasizing about Jax. Even if it kills me.

(Completed) Octavia Lennox has always looked forward to the adventure and freedom that her 18th birthday would bring. Finding a mate was never a priority, nor was discovering parts of herself that she refused to acknowledge. Being an Alpha's daughter, and then sister however, didn't come without responsibilities, and when she meets the Timber Alpha she has some choices to make. **This 4 book series is COMPLETE -- Reading order: 1-Timber Alpha Ch 1-86, 2-Mated to Brianna, 3-Mylo (Timber Alpha Ch 89-172), 4-Alpha Heirs

She’s texting him her heart. But she’s got the wrong number… When Isabel “El” Watson applied for a sales job with her company, she had no idea a jelly donut would explode on her blouse, or that her grumpy boss would practically laugh her out of the interview. Accountants could be salespeople, she was sure of it, even if that jerkface didn’t think so. So when a lady at the local wine festival offers her a sales job on the spot at a new boutique winery, El jumps at the chance. She also jumps at the chance to text with the guy who danced with her at the festival. Life was finally looking up. Boston’s friend, Chad, never should have given Boston’s number to the girl at the wine festival as a joke, but the damage was done. When El sends Boston a text later that night, believing he is Chad, he’s too nice to hurt her feelings by telling her the truth. But there are a few other truths Boston might have thought about: Truth #1: He’s her boss Truth #2: She just accepted a job at his mother’s new winery Truth #3: He’s always had a crush on her Even though Boston is no longer El’s grumpy boss, they still work together at his mom’s winery. And while sparks are flying as they get to know each other for real, El’s kind of sweet on the guy who always seems to know just what to say via text too. Obviously, things will come to a head. Will Boston come clean about the flirty texts being from him? Or will El figure out on her own that she’s been Texting With the Enemy?

A marriage that had everything to work out, this is that of Dalia Penedo who did everything to win the heart of Carlos Salazar and have his "Happily Ever". But as time goes on, things change... and so do feelings. Although Dahlia loves her husband, her curiosity makes her embark on the dangerous virtual world, where she meets Mr.X, a man who will snatch the young woman’s heart. Dahlia is now divided: She loves her husband, but is madly in love with X. This is a real story , where the choices she makes, can change her future for the better... or for the worse.

An app had been making the rounds online lately—one that let you text your future self. Right before the final paper of the SATs, I decided to jump on the bandwagon and fired off a message: [Future me, do I end up marrying Liam Tinsley?] The screen flickered, and a reply from an "Unknown Number" popped up almost instantly: [Yes. You had a big, grand wedding.] I clutched my phone and typed back fast: [And Mia Thompson was my maid of honor, right? She's my best friend!] The response came just as quickly: [She was. But she wasn't just the maid of honor, she slept with Liam on your wedding night.] My smile froze mid-expression. Then a second message hit: [Truth is, you didn't need to go through all that trouble tanking your scores just to match his. He bombed the math section on purpose—so he could end up in the same city as Mia, who was at the bottom of the class.] [He pushed you to turn down that top-tier university—not for your sake, but because he didn't want Mia to feel inferior next to your grades.] The pre-exam warning bell cut through the air. But I was frozen, my body ice-cold, unable to move. One last message slammed into my screen: [If you don't believe me, head straight to the motel behind the school after the test. You'll see the truth for yourself.]

Manhattan was doing that thing again twinkling like it had all the answers, when really it just had expensive lighting. Alexander Knight leaned against the glass wall of his penthouse, seventy-five floors up, watching the city hum below him. Bourbon in one hand (mostly untouched), phone in the other. The merger docs stared back at him from the screen, but the part that actually kept him up at night wasn’t the billions on the line. It was the fine print from the Japanese investors: “Family stability preferred.” Translation: get a wife, look settled, or watch the whole deal slip away. He exhaled, fogging the window for a second before it cleared. His assistant had already sent over a neat little list of “suitable” women—discreet, polished, zero drama. Women who understood arrangements. He hadn’t even opened the attachments. Because something about the whole thing felt… hollow. His gaze drifted down, past the grid of lights, to the tiny café on the corner. Golden glow spilling onto the sidewalk, handwritten sign in the window: Local Artist Pop-Up – One Night Only. A woman stood in front of a canvas, head tilted, paint-smudged shirt slipping off one shoulder. She was talking to someone out of view, laughing softly, then stepped back to study her work like it had personally offended her. She glanced up—straight toward his building, straight at him somehow, even though there was no way she could see him up here. But for a split second, their eyes locked across the impossible distance. But right then, with the whole damn city glittering between them, he had this ridiculous, unshakable thought: She’s the one I’m going to ask. And hell help them both when she says yes.