Summer's Temptation (17 page)

Perfect,
Tyler texts.
I’ll ditch the bar and be over at nine.

Score one for hos! With my own smug smile, I head to the MLRC, an extra wiggle in my step for Tyler’s enjoyment.

Chapter 16

I
t’s the last Sunday in July, and I’m pulling out of my driveway and heading to the lake to set up my telescope. Mars is visible from now until mid-August, but the main event tonight is the Perseid meteor shower. I don’t even need a telescope to see that. As I back out of the driveway, I feel lighter than I have all month. My Technical Writing paper’s complete, and all I have left is the presentation. After school finishes, rush starts, and I’ll get to see all my friends who’ve been away for the summer. A week later, fall semester begins.

I’m looking forward to the new year, a fresh start removed from the heartbreak of my sophomore year. The best part is that I don’t have to worry about new relationship miseries, thanks to Tyler and his godlike skills. Things between us have settled down for the most part. After two weeks of going non-stop, we moved our rendezvous to every other night, then to only three times a week, and now we’re down to twice a week. Once school starts, moving to once a week should be easy.

The only concerning part is now that we’re spending less time in the bedroom, I’m thinking about him more often, and not just about sex. Sometimes, when I haven’t seen him in a few days, I miss his smile. I probably should worry about that, but I’m sure once my schedule picks back up, I won’t have time to dwell on Tyler’s pearly whites. Or his cute dimples. Or even the adorable way his eyebrow bar rises when he’s amused.

I slow at the stop sign at the end of our street and peer in my rearview mirror. I can barely make out Tyler’s house, but I swear I see him bound down his porch steps and jump into his white pickup. Lately, I see him everywhere. If I go the student rec center to use the elliptical, he shows up with Josh to lift weights. If Liz and I meet up to have lunch at the student union, he’s there with Dylan and Hannah. Not once this summer have I been to Billy Bob’s without Tyler showing up.

I’ve put a lot of brain power into figuring out if he’s always been around this much and I hadn’t noticed. I don’t think that’s the case because, like every other girl on campus, I’ve always paid attention to Tyler. If he’d been around this much before, I would have known. Of course, it is summer. With fewer people on campus, I’m bound to see him more often.

I turn left onto the main street, and fifteen minutes later, I’m trudging down a deer path with my equipment and a blanket. I only have twenty minutes until dark, barely enough time to set up my telescope properly, but I’m not worried. I’m looking forward to the meteor shower more than seeing Mars.

When I come upon the field, I smile, loving how the waning sun turns the green grass golden. A gentle wind rustles the leaves behind me as I head into the open pasture. I’ve seen deer out here a few times, but they shy away as soon as they catch scent of me. A couple of harmless rat snakes have crossed my path, and once, when I’d been particularly still, a raccoon snuck up on me. We both screeched when we saw each other, and it scrambled away, kicking up grass and leaves as it scampered into the trees.

Most nights, I hear armadillos digging for grubs and frogs serenading on the lake shore, but I don’t see another living creature. This place is heaven when a girl needs solitude to recharge. If I ever make enough money, I’m going to buy a little piece of land like this one, next to a lake, so I can stargaze and listen to animals every evening.

I’m blissfully daydreaming when I hear rustling in the woods, louder than an animal would make. I have no doubt it’s a person when a string of curses rises from the forest. My heart rate spikes. All the times I’ve been out here, never once have I seen a soul who wasn’t invited by me. The spot’s too hard to find. The lot where I park is a quarter mile back, and neither of the two marked trailheads lead to my hidden meadow. I take an inconspicuous deer trail that’s nearly invisible from the parking lot.

I quietly drop my gear and reach into my pocket for my pepper spray. It’s probably a lost hiker, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. I back away toward the tree line on the opposite side of the meadow and study the swaying leaves to determine which direction the wind is blowing. The last thing I want is to incapacitate myself by spraying into the wind.

The rustling grows louder. “Ow! Dammit!”

I recognize the voice. “Tyler?”

He crashes through the trees on a path that bisects the deer trail. I’d never considered taking that path because it’s too overgrown to even be a coyote trail. His hair’s a ragged mess, with twigs and leaves poking out, and he cradles his forearm to his chest.

I shove the pepper spray into my pocket and hurry to his side. “What happened to you?” I lift up on my toes and pick debris out of his hair before he can answer.

“Tripped over a tree root.” He stares at the trees with narrowed eyes. “It’s like the Forbidden Forest in there. Big-ass spiders tried to eat me, and I think I saw a centaur.”

I chuckle as I pluck a blade of dried grass from his eyebrow. “I take it you’re not a Harry Potter fan?”

“Not anymore.” He scans me up and down, his blue eyes incredulous. “How are you unscathed?” His lips curl up in an impish grin. “Oh, I get it. You’re doing Hagrid.” He cocks his head to the side, suddenly serious. “Is he bigger than me?”

“Nobody’s bigger than you,” I say without thinking.

He puffs out his chest like a gorilla. “Damn straight.”

I’m surprised he doesn’t beat his pecs to flaunt his manliness. I’m about to punch him in the chest to deflate his ego but stop when I notice a drip of blood coagulated on the arm pressed to his chest. He lifts away the hand cradling it, and underneath is a nasty scrape at least an inch long. Blood trails wind down to his elbow.

“Come here,” I say, leading him to my stuff. If one positive thing can be said about me, it’s that I’m always prepared. I pull out a Band-Aid and an antibiotic spray. “What are you doing here?”

“Trying to figure out where you go every Sunday night.” He looks around and snorts. “The woods? Really? I was hoping for a lesbian rendezvous. Where’s the orgy?”

I slap the Band-Aid on with a little too much force. “You’re disgusting.”

He winces. “Glad you’re not getting a nursing degree, because your bedside manner sucks.”

I glare at him. He shouldn’t know about my secret place. He’ll turn it into field-party central. I can just imagine Josh crashing through the forest with a keg. Tyler’d be on his heels with a case of red Solo cups. Bringing up the rear would be a gaggle of scantily clad girls who’d pause every few seconds to yank their high heels from the soft earth.

“You’re stalking me, Tyler.”

“I’m not stalking.” He shrugs and picks dried blood off his arm. It flakes to the ground by his feet. “I was just curious.”

“If you’re staring out your window, waiting for me to leave so you can follow, that’s called stalking.”

“I can’t help it if our living room window’s in the perfect spot to see the comings and goings of Liz and Cassie. And don’t think you’re special. I know Liz gets an ice cream cone on Thursdays after the gym. She also leaves every Wednesday at eight and comes back at midnight.”

“She does?”

He nods.

“Where does she go?”

“I was going to ask you that.”

I roll my eyes. “God, Tyler, you’re like the creepy old lady with twenty cats who sits by the window with binoculars.”

He slips his fingers through his hair, dislodging a flurry of dead grass. “No. I’m the hot twenty-two-year-old neighbor who plays too much Xbox.”

“Oh.” It suddenly makes sense. Tyler’s living room has two windows. One overlooks the porch, and the other, the one right next to the TV and the Xbox console, overlooks my house. If he’s playing Battlefield all day, he’ll see us coming and going. “It’s still stalking if you follow.”

“Like I said, I was hoping for some blackmail material.” He turns in a circle, taking in our surroundings. “What exactly do you do out here? Should you be coming here alone? At twilight? Is that safe?”

When he faces me again, I pat his cheek. “Aww. You’re worried about me. That’s cute.” And a little disconcerting.

He growls and grabs my hand. “You didn’t answer my questions.”

“Stargazing. Yes. Yes. I bring pepper spray, and you’re the first person I’ve ever run into out here.”

“Stargazing?” He drops my hand and looks at me as though he’s seeing another girl, one he didn’t know existed.

I nod. I’m running out of time to calibrate my telescope. I grab the blanket and scan the meadow, deciding on the perfect spot to view the meteor shower. The temperature’s still in the nineties, so I head toward the lake where a cool breeze blows off the water.

I glance over my shoulder at Tyler. Since he’s out here, he might as well make himself useful. “Bring my stuff, please.”

He clutches the handle of the telescope case and lifts. “Jesus. What’s in this thing?”

I unfold the blanket, whip it up in the air, and let if fall back to the ground, fully spread. “A telescope. Be gentle.”

He lays the case on the blanket, opens it, and lets out a shrill whistle. “That thing looks powerful. Want me to set it up for you?”

“Do you know how?”

“Put it on a tripod and point it toward the sky?”

“Not even close.” The sun will set in only ten minutes, and calibrating in the dark is a bitch, especially since I forgot my light. Any other Sunday, I would have been pissed, but I’m here for the meteor shower. Mars is just a nice bonus, but it’s not going to happen. I shake my head. “Forget the telescope.”

“I could help you.” Tyler leans over the telescope, dialing nobs and pushing buttons.

“That’s okay.”

After a minute, he seems to lose interest in the telescope. He kicks off his runners then makes himself comfortable on my blanket, reclining on his elbows with his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He stares up at a hawk making lazy circles in the sky. I watch him suspiciously, wondering why he isn’t leaving. His curiosity has been satisfied, and this can’t be considered a titillating evening by Tyler’s standards.

“Um… Tyler, you don’t have to stay,” I say.

He tilts his head toward me and smiles charmingly. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No.” I sound uncertain even to myself.

It’s not that I want him to leave, it’s more that I’m unsure what motivated him to follow me in the first place. If it were curiosity alone, shouldn’t he have already left? Is he here to spend time with me? If that’s the case, does it mean he’s getting attached? The thought sends an unwelcome shudder up my spine, and I stifle an annoyed groan. I thought I was most likely to get emotionally involved, but now I wonder if Tyler’s the weaker link.

I shake my head to clear my mind. I’m here to watch a meteor shower, not scrutinize my relationship with Tyler. I’ll have plenty of time to do that later. I sit next to him and turn my attention to searching his clothes for ticks. He’s wearing a navy blue Beastie Boys T-shirt and jeans with holes in both knees. Not the store-bought holey jeans, but the kind that have actually been worn too much. As usual, he looks hot without trying, but his getup isn’t the most practical for the woods. The tears in his jeans provide perfect portals to his skin.

“Sit up,” I tell him after shutting my telescope case.

“What about stargazing?”

“I don’t have time to set up the telescope, especially when I need to pick ticks off you before it gets too dark to see them.”

His lips curve up in his one-sided cocky grin. “Are you trying to get me naked?”

I twirl my finger, motioning for him turn. “You don’t need to strip.”

“I don’t have ticks.”

“Do you want to risk Lyme disease?”

He does as asked, sitting cross-legged with his back toward me. I run my hands through his dark hair. It’s fine but thick, and I love how soft it feels slipping through my fingers. Even Justin Beiber would be jealous of his hair, but I’m not about to tell him that. His head would explode from the building pressure of his ego.

He moans, tilts his head back, and closes his eyes. “You have magic fingers.”

I gently scrape my nails down his scalp. A lump passes beneath my fingers. I rise on my knees and spread his hair around the tiny tick. “Found one.” I pluck it and squeeze it to death. No blood oozes out. “Didn’t bite you yet.” I toss it into the grass and wipe my hand on my jeans.

“Do I need to check you next?” he asks, sounding a little too eager.

“Nope. I bathed in bug spray before coming out here.”

“Is that what smells so bad? I thought you were wearing eau de bug bomb.”

I chuckle as I check under his shirt. I do smell disgusting, but being stinky is better than worrying about ticks and mosquitos. Pulling the waist of his jeans back, I check between the band of his boxers and his skin, getting a tantalizing glimpse of his ass. Considering how often we have sex, I should have the curve of his muscular bottom memorized, but I never get to see it in full light. By the time he’s down to his boxers, the lamp’s off.

Tyler turns his head, and I get a glimpse of his perfect profile—strong nose and chin, eyes that turn a deeper blue in the golden glow of the setting sun. “You’re good at picking nits. Did your sock monkeys teach you that?”

“Har har. Very funny.” I snap the elastic of his boxers, satisfied by the sound as it assaults his skin.

He shakes his head but leans into me so his back rests against my thighs. His head cradles between my breasts.

“You need to check your legs,” I say.

He nestles deeper into my cleavage. “In a minute. I’m too comfortable to move.”

Without thinking, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and lay my cheek on top of his head. His hair is so silky, I can’t help but move my head to feel the softness glide against my skin. Tyler clasps one of my hands to his chest, drawing his long fingers between mine in a soothing back and forth motion. This feels like something a couple would do, but we’ve been making so much progress on cutting down our nights together, I decide not to let it bother me—for now.

“Why do you collect sock monkeys?” he asks, staring out at the gently lapping waves.

I debate if I should tell him or not. The story’s simple. When I was ten, my next-door neighbor and best friend Sophia dumped me for Abigail down the street. I’d called to ask her to play, and she told me she was cleaning her room. Later, I saw her out the back window playing tetherball with Abby, and I was heartbroken. It was summertime, and for weeks I sulked around the house until my mom shipped me off to Grandma’s. I stayed with her for two weeks, and during that time, she taught me to sew sock monkeys.

She’d told me, “Honey, nothing’s so wrong that a sock monkey can’t make it right.”

What she’d really been teaching me was how to rid my mind of a bad situation long enough to find peace. For the few hours needed to put a monkey together, I’d forget the sadness and focus solely on cutting, sewing, and stuffing. When I finished, I had something cute to show for my efforts and a few hours’ reprieve from the hurt.