Summer's Temptation

by Ashley Lynn Willis

  “Tyler?”

  Nothing but quiet greets me. Has he already left? I should feel bad if he has, but it’d be a relief to sleep on my emotions and hopefully see them in a new light in the morning. I shut the door and listen for him. Footsteps sound in the hallway to the bedrooms. Tyler turns the corner and stops beside the TV. Wearing only jeans, he crosses his arms, biceps bulging, and widens his stance as if he’s readying for a physical fight.

  His nostrils flare as he stares at my mouth. We’re both silent. If it weren’t for the rhythmic rise and fall of his arms over his chest as he breathes, he’d be a perfect statue of masculinity. Strong. Virile. Angry.

  “Tyler…” The house is as still as a tomb, and my voice pierces the quiet like a knife. “We need to talk.”

  “Damn straight.” His nostrils flare wider, and the sharp line of his jawbone turns into a finely honed blade that looks capable of cutting through skin. “That was the teacher who asked you out?”

  I nod.

  The chiseled muscles of his shoulders go concave as they tense. “I take it I’m not enough to keep you from going out with him?” His tone’s pissed but laced with hurt. He wants to be enough. He cares.

  We. Are. So. Screwed.

  I step toward him, palms out in a submissive gesture I hope he takes as I’m sorry. “No, that’s not true.”

  He steps back as though he can’t stomach being close to me. “So what is it then? You make out with Mr. Conservative and expect to come back in and fuck me? That’s real classy.”

  “I didn’t want to kiss him.”

  His jaw contracts so tightly, the muscle below his ear ticks. “That’s not what it looked like to me.”

  I have no idea what he saw, but he obviously shut the blinds before the kiss ended. I need him to understand it wasn’t mutual, that he’s the only guy I want to kiss. “I ended the kiss, Tyler. I realized—”

  Tyler pounds the wall with his fist. My confession gets caught in my throat, and I jerk away from him, plastering my back to the door. Never have I seen him so angry. I don’t know if I should be scared for my safety or worried he won’t listen long enough to hear my side.

  Tyler lowers his hand, clenching and unclenching his fist. He draws in a deep breath as though he’s trying to regain control, but the fury in his gaze doesn’t abate. “Why, Cassie? Why did you stop him? Did you remember you left me in here with a raging boner? Were you afraid he wouldn’t be as big as me? Not as fun of a ride?” With each question, his voice grows louder. “Did you think he might actually want more than a fuck and that scared you shitless? Or are you planning on calling him after I leave?”

  He’s shouting so loud, I cringe and clutch at the doorknob, fighting the urge to tear the door open and run. “It was a mistake. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

  “A mistake?” he growls. “You were practically sitting in his lap. I’m surprised you didn’t rip your robe open.” He spreads his arms wide. “Maybe you could have given me and all our neighbors a show, for Christ’s sake!” Sneering, he marches toward the bedroom hallway, the muscles of his back bunched hard.

  As I watch him go, I draw the fabric of my robe tightly around myself. His words make me feel cheap. “I am not a whore,” I whisper to an empty room.

  He has no right to make me feel like one because of one mistake that was only a kiss. A low boil of anger surges through my veins that quickly grows into a roiling fury. Who is he to judge me? He doesn’t care about me. I was stupid to think he might. He’s proving he’s an egotistical jerk with his angry outburst. I’ve deflated his self-esteem by kissing another guy, and I’m positive he’s furious a woman might choose someone else over him. But that’s beyond hypocritical. The only reason he’s here and not fucking another girl is because I’m so damn convenient.

  I stomp after him. “For someone who called me innocent, you sure think I’m a skank.”

  He stops in my bedroom and yanks his T-shirt on then crams his feet into his runners. “You’re worse than the random girls I fuck, Cassie. At least they have the decency to wait until we’re done before they chase someone else.”

  I barely move in time as he storms into the hall. “Do you have a direct line inside my head? Because if not, you have no idea what went on out there,” I bark, pointing toward the front porch.

  He strides through the kitchen toward the back door. “Save it.”

  I reach for him, but he sidesteps me. Lunging forward, I grab his shoulder. “We need to talk!”

  He shrugs my hand off and opens the back door. “We’re done.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “The bars. Maybe I’ll find a gem of a girl who won’t stick her tongue down another guy’s throat when she’s supposed to be with me!” With that, he slams the door.

  I’m left on the other side wondering what the hell just happened.

  Chapter 20

  I sniffle, sitting on the couch and staring at a blank TV screen. Tyler’s been gone for thirty minutes, and once my anger dissolved, the tears started. I’m blubbering like an idiot, just like I did over Jeremy and Wyatt.

  Am I ever going to learn boys are bad? Or maybe they’re not. Maybe I have a sign on my chest that says, Here’s my heart; break it, please. The boys in Texas are so full of Southern chivalry, they have to oblige.

  I stifle a sob and dab at my swollen eyes with a tissue. What a mess. Hannah tried to tell me this would end in disaster. If only I’d been smart enough to listen.

  I glance at my phone, willing Tyler to call. He doesn’t. Phoning him goes against everything I’ve read about the power play in relationships, but technically, this isn’t a relationship, so to hell with it. I dial his number. It rings. And rings. And rings. When voice mail answers, I ask him to call me and hang up. I haven’t fallen to the level of groveling yet.

  With nothing to do but wait, I thump my foot against the floor, counting the passing seconds until my toes get tired. I glance at my phone. Texting doesn’t count for pleading. Right?

  My fingers get to work tapping out a message. Can we please talk?

  Nothing.

  I didn’t want to kiss him. Please come back.

  Nothing.

  I tried to push him away, but he had his hands wrapped around the back of my neck and I couldn’t budge him.

  Nothing.

  And then something hit the window and he finally backed off.

  Nothing.

  I ponder the last text, realizing I never figured out where the noise came from. After I drop the cell on the coffee table and swipe tears from my cheeks, I drag my heavy body from the couch to Liz’s room. I don’t even have to turn the lamp on to see what caused the loud ping. Lying beside the baseboard under the window is the can of whipped cream that was supposed to be the star in our night of frantic thank-you sex. As I stare at it, I think back to something Hannah told me a few weeks ago.

  She wiggled her eyebrows and said, “Dylan thinks Tyler has a secret girlfriend.” When I asked what made him think that, she replied, “He hasn’t brought a girl into his room in over a month.”

  With all the time we’ve spent together, I guess I wasn’t surprised to learn I was his go-to girl, but it still gave me a thrill that sex with me was enough to keep him satisfied.

  Tonight, that might change, and it makes me sick to think about him with another girl.

  I grab the can and glare at it. Outside, I hear the low bass of guys talking. One of them has Tyler’s distinctive unhurried drawl. I slide apart two blind-slats and watch Josh and Tyler jump into Tyler’s pickup. They’re heading to the bars to pick up girls. I know it.

  I step away from the window, fighting the urge to storm out there and make him listen to me. I don’t know what I’d tell him. That I care about him? That I want to be with him? The idea of Tyler and me in a relationship is absurd. We belong together like oil and water.

  Doors slam shut, and Tyler’s motor revs. The engine rumbles as he backs up, then gears shift, and I listen to the rum
bling fade away. With it goes a small piece of my heart I hadn’t meant to set free.

  I take a deep breath and clench and unclench my fists to relieve the tension coursing through my body. I learned that trick after Wyatt dumped me. I remind myself that this is different from Wyatt. Tyler never bought me a perfect ring or promised me forever. Even though it hurts, this isn’t a betrayal. After a few more deep breaths, I head into the living room and pick up my cell.

  When my sister answers, I say, “I’ll be home around midnight.” No point in staying here and dwelling on a boy I can’t have.

  Sunday afternoon, after four days with my family, I come back to Lakewater. I’ve learned my childhood home is not always a better place to brood, and after moping around my parents’ house listening to my sister drone on about how great her boyfriend is, I decided to come back to school. Sometimes sulking is more therapeutic alone.

  When I pull into my driveway, I note Tyler’s pickup is parked outside his house beside Hannah’s car. All weekend, I kept my cell close, hoping for a call. He never phoned or acknowledged the texts I left him. I hate that Tyler’s reduced me to a pining girl, but that doesn’t stop me from pulling up close to the garage so that my car’s in line with his living room window. While I park, I peek toward their house. The blinds are open, but the sun’s shining too bright for me to tell if anyone’s inside.

  My phone rings, and I fumble for it, trying to see who’s calling. Please be Tyler. When I have it firmly in my grasp, I glance at the screen. Dylan. Maybe Tyler borrowed his cell.

  Before I can even say hello, Hannah says, “I need to talk to you.”

  I mask my disappointment with a cheery voice. “Well, hello to you too.”

  “Sorry. I just saw your car and wanted to catch you before Dylan and I head out. Can we talk tonight?”

  I reach over to the passenger seat and grab my purse. “We can talk right now.”

  She hesitates. “I don’t want anyone overhearing.”

  “Come over.”

  “Can’t. I’m heading to a baseball game.”

  In the background, I hear Dylan say, “Get that sweet ass out the door.”

  I peer at their porch and see the door opening. Dylan steps out, Hannah behind him. He scowls when she waves at me, and his frown grows broader when she runs toward my car.

  “Hannah! We’re gonna be late!” he calls.

  “One second!” She skids to a stop beside my car as I’m getting out. “I’ll come over after the game.”

  “It’s Sunday night. I’m going to the lake.” I slam the door shut and pivot toward her.

  She peers over her shoulder at Dylan. “What time will you be back?”

  “Ten-thirtyish.”

  “Hannah!” Dylan yells.

  She turns to me, and I notice worry has replaced her normal jolliness. “I’ll be over at eleven.”

  “What’s so important?”

  Her long blond hair whips in her face as she spins around and darts toward Dylan. He’s holding the passenger door to his SUV open and tapping his foot.

  “I’ll tell you later,” she yells.

  I shake my head, watching her go. Something must be eating at her because nothing comes between Dylan and his baseball games, not even her. For a split second, I wonder if it’s about Tyler, but I push aside the thought nearly as fast as it enters my brain. Hannah’s done her best to ignore my relationship with him. I’m not sure why that’d change now.

  Maybe she got engaged? I peer at her left hand. Her fingers are mostly a blur as she runs, but I make out her normal silver ring signifying her celibacy until marriage. If she is engaged, Dylan forgot to get her a diamond, which I seriously doubt would fly with Hannah. I shrug and stroll to the back of my car for my suitcase. I need to unpack, eat dinner, and find out exactly how mad Tyler is at me.

  A little before eight, I grab my telescope case and head outside, taking my sweet time strolling to the car in hopes that Tyler will see me. The sun’s no longer overhead, and if I tilt my head at the perfect angle, I could see into Tyler’s house, but I refrain, refusing to look desperate. After loading the telescope into the trunk, I remember I forgot my blanket. Well darn.

  A minute later, I amble toward my trunk with a folded blanket beneath my arm. I tuck it next to the telescope and shut the trunk. Jeeze, it’s hot out here. I wipe sweat from my brow and decide I need a bottle of ice-cold water to take with me.

  I mosey back inside, hurry to fill a bottle, and meander back to my car. After I place the water in the cup holder, I conveniently remember I left my duffel in the entrance. Another trip inside? Oh, drat. After two more trips to retrieve forgotten items, I decide if Tyler hasn’t seen me yet, I’m shit out of luck.

  While I lock the front door, I tilt my head as subtly as possible and peer into his window. All I see is the shoulder of someone sitting on the couch. Could be Tyler or Josh. With a sigh, I take off for my car.

  I finally pull out of the driveway, and halfway down the road, I look into the rearview mirror, hoping to see Tyler following me. The street’s quiet. There’s no sign of him, but I don’t lose hope. He knows the way. Maybe he’ll show up later.

  A half-hour after I arrive at the lake, he’s still not here. The sun’s about to set, and I haven’t bothered to open my telescope. I should leave. I only came in hopes that Tyler and I could talk. I can’t help but wonder if his absence means that he hooked up with another girl and anything real between us is over. It’s for the best, I tell myself, even though it doesn’t feel like it. If I tried to turn Tyler into a boyfriend, he’d probably run for the hills or worse. Maybe he’d humiliate me the way he did when I asked him to be my fuck buddy. Even if he agreed to a relationship, which is highly doubtful, we’d probably last as long as a Hollywood affair. Any girl who falls for a player is in for a heaping serving of hurt. The sooner that sinks in, the better.

  Gazing toward the deer trail, I try to decide if I should leave or not. It’s peaceful out here, warm and relaxing. If I head home, I’ll just dwell on Tyler between four walls. Though he might be next door, he’s still out of reach. I’d rather dwell on him out here, with a breeze to cool my skin and frogs croaking on the shore.

  I rise from the blanket, deciding to dip my toes in the water for a few moments. To the east of the meadow is a rock ledge jutting out over the lake, the perfect place to sit. I take off my shoes, ball up my socks, and shove them inside the sneakers, then walk on the grass toward the lake. The sandstone ledge is warm against my soles, and I settle down, placing one foot at a time into the cool water. While sitting there, my thoughts go back to Tyler. As much as he’d overreacted the last time I stargazed alone, I really thought he’d come tonight. So much for him worrying about my safety. Now I’m worried we’ll never talk about what happened Wednesday night.

  I can’t help wanting to explain myself. I don’t know what telling him the kiss with Aiden had been a mistake would accomplish. Maybe it’d make him less angry with me. Maybe I want him to know I care about him so we can end this relationship amicably. If he holds a grudge and avoids me for the next year, I’ll be devastated, which is strange. All I want is for Wyatt to fall off the face of the earth, but I’d rather shrivel up like an aged leather bag than go without seeing Tyler’s cocky grin for more than a day.

  Seeking calmness amidst the chaos of my mind, I repeatedly lift my feet from the lake, letting the water slide between my toes. The dripping noise as the water rains down is soothing—not relaxing enough to clear my mind, but tranquil enough to take the edge off my sore emotions.

  I lean back on my hands and tilt my head toward the sky. My face catches the last rays of sun while I listen to nature. Frogs serenade each other. Trees sway in the evening breeze. Birds sing their last song of the day. Over the pleasant din is a cicada that’s ruining the serenity with its insistent chirping.

  The noise reminds me of a hyperactive toddler with a pair of maracas. I tilt my head further back to gaze at the tree limbs. Where is the anno
ying bugger? I’m not usually one for messing with wildlife, but this creature’s getting on my last nerve. Maybe there’re a dozen cicadas going off at once, but I doubt they’d be able to sing in such perfect unison.

  In an effort to flush out the culprit, I swivel my head from side to side. Movement in my peripheral catches my attention. Only a foot away, I catch a glimpse of something brown and coiled. In an instant, I know the sound isn’t coming from a cicada.

  Rattlesnake.

  My heart threatens to pound from my chest as I jump up. My feet land on the rock with a loud thud. The snake jerks, probably startled by my sudden movement. My frightened reaction is the stupidest evasive maneuver I could make, but I realize that too late.

  The viper’s triangular head strikes.

  Chapter 21

  Two glowing-hot daggers slice into my leg. I scream then kick, frantic to detach the viper from my calf. The fangs are fully imbedded, and the snake’s long body whips into the air like a sinewy rope. Its jaw releases mid-kick. It coils into a ball as it flies through the air.

  I don’t wait for it to hit the ground.

  A surge of adrenaline races through my veins, and I sprint toward the meadow. Though I know it’s unlikely, I swear I can feel the rattler gaining on me, slithering through the grass to sink its fangs into my body over and over until I’m nothing but an envenomed husk. I’m too terrified to look behind me, afraid it’ll lash at my ankles if I slow for a millisecond.

  Ahead of me, my blanket and telescope lay on the grass. I race to the blanket and jump on it, as if the gingham print can somehow protect me. Searing pain spiders up my leg, branching back down to my ankle. I drop to my knees and cry out, fire lancing my leg. Fighting the pain, I whirl around on my knees and face the rock ledge fifty feet away. I’m positive the snake’s going to lunge from the tall grass surrounding me.