A Little Like Destiny (Robin & Tyler #3)

by Cheyanne Young

  The fairgrounds are just as packed as they were for the Cockroach Festival, only now the cool chill in the air and the crunch of fallen leaves on the ground give off a different vibe. Summer is officially over in Salt Gap, Texas. Miranda messes with her phone for the entire drive, texting someone. And when I say someone, I mean Marcus. He’s pretty much the only person she ever talks to on her new phone, especially since she had officially severed ties with her old friends back at home.

  We approach the gates to the fair and I pay the four dollars for our tickets to enter. Miranda’s belly bumps into me as she whirls around at the entrance with a big smile on her face. “You look ridiculous!” she says, giggling. Marcus appears behind us, dressed head to toe in filthy, ripped clothing covered with makeup and fake blood. His fake plastic ear is sliding down his face and the slight green hue to his face of makeup tells me he’s a zombie.

  “My sister did it,” he says a little sheepishly. He touches his face and crinkles his nose. “I don’t know how women wear this crap all day long. It’s making my face sticky.”

  “Theater makeup doesn’t feel anything like normal makeup,” Miranda assures him. He slides his arm around her shoulders and pulls her in for a quick hug. Her cheeks flush red at their brief embrace and it takes just about all of my willpower not to make fun of her for it. In fact, I don’t say anything at all. Karma and all that.

  Lord knows I don’t need the bad karma fairy to pay me a trip of embarrassment tonight. My niece, who is totally crushing on Marcus, and Marcus, who is totally crushing on her, head off into the festival, both pretending that they’re just friends. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to handle my nearly eighteen year old niece, her baby, and the idea of her dating someone else. But as long as she’s happy and healthy and not doing anything too terribly stupid, I’m going to support her. Marcus is a good kid. Vandalism tendencies and all.

  The object of my last few weeks of heartache stares at me from across the packed metal building. He’s wearing dark denim jeans, a black long-sleeved pearl snap cowboy shirt, cowboy boots—the same boots I fell into on the first night I met him—and a black cowboy hat. I’m not even really into the western hottie thing, but damn. Tyler wears his pitiful Halloween costume like God himself fashioned the outfit out of heavenly fabrics just for him.

  “I’ll be back in a little bit,” I say, glancing to my left. To my chagrin, Miranda and Marcus are already gone and I’ve just spoken aloud to absolutely no one. A small girl dressed in black cat costume stares at me with painted on whiskers across her cheeks.

  I’ve been ditched by my niece and now I’m all alone at the Halloween festival. There’s really no better opportunity for me to have a chat with the man who is still watching me from across the room. Right now is the perfect time. I know exactly what to say because I’ve practiced it for a good twenty-four hours.

  So why am I so nervous?

  I swallow back my nerves and dig up all that confidence I used to have when I was a real estate agent. In my few years of professional work, I’ve had to deal with all kinds of crazy clients and intimidating situations. All of the scary people and intimidating high-dollar sales situations had all been resolved thanks to my professional attitude and confidence. I can do this. This is exactly the same as dealing with millionaire clients.

  Only it’s not like that at all.

  My thrift store combat boots feel a thousand pounds heavier as I force them to step across the concrete floor, maneuvering around children in costumes as they run around to all of the game booths. My eyes fix on Tyler’s. He makes a little smirk as he leans back against the wall near the entrance of the main haunted house. The entrance is a black opening, covered with black plastic sheeting on all four sides. Strips of mummy cloth dangle across the opening, forcing you to feel it touch you as you step inside. One of Sherry’s brothers mans the haunted house, waving his hands and wiggling his eyebrows at each new person who dares to enter. Even though I know what the place looks like with all the lights on, it’s still pretty impressive-looking from where I stand. If I were ten years younger, I might be scared to venture inside.

  My heart crawls up into my throat when I get close enough to see the sparkle in Tyler’s eyes. Sure, it’s just the reflection from a strand of purple ghost lights above his head, but there’s also a different look on his face than usual.

  It’s now or never, Robin.

  I take a deep breath. “I want to talk to you.”

  He touches the top of his hat, tipping it down a bit as he winks at me. “I’d be happy to talk to you, ma’am. Your name is Rosie, right?”

  I put my hands on my hips. “I mean a real talk. Between Robin and Tyler, not Rosie the Riveter and…Tyler dressed like a cowboy.”

  He smiles. “I know. I was just…being dumb.” His hand touches my lower back, guiding me to the left. “Shall we talk inside of our haunted house masterpiece?”

  I’m about to object but then I think about how talking to Tyler about this very important subject might be easier if we’re in a darkened haunted house. At least then I wouldn’t have to look him in the eyes when I asked him my important question. My arms wrap around myself. My body shudders in the cool October air. I glance around and see that all of the garage doors to the metal building are opened as people filter from the activities inside to the ones outside. “Sure,” I say, leading the way to the entrance. Tyler places a few bills into the plastic donation bucket at the start of the haunted house. Sherry’s brother nods a thank you to us and then rolls his hand dramatically, allowing us to enter the place that we created just a few days ago.

  We step through the mummy strands and darkness envelops us. My vision goes blurry as my eyes adjust to the complete darkness. Erie music plays from surround sound speakers so it sounds like it’s both right in front of me and then everywhere at once. “Tyler?” I call out tentatively, wondering if he’s walked farther than I have. “I’m here,” is his response. I feel a warm hand touch my back.

  We move forward, feeling our way through the darkness. The walls get creepy and textured, cold and wet, and all kinds of faux gross as we meander through the pitch black hallway. “Jeez, is it supposed to be so dark?” I ask, just so I’ll get a response. I hate feeling completely alone in here, with or without his hand on my back.

  Tyler’s reply is relaxed, confident. “It’ll lighten up when we reach the corner.”

  “What corner?” Smack. I step back from the sharp right hand turn I had just slammed into. “Ah. This one,” I say with a little laugh as if I’m not embarrassed. We turn the corner, Tyler’s hand still on my back, and a burst of freezing fog wafts over us. I close my eyes, wondering how badly this will screw up my makeup and press on through the haunted house. Immediately after the fog, a bright light bursts on and hideous monsters jump out at us.

  I wish I could say that I am cool and collected, but I can’t. I practically jump out of my skin and clutch Tyler’s arm as if that one bicep could save my life. We walk through shaking floors, dizzying strobe lights and filter through costumed haunted house volunteers who creep along behind us, lurking around every corner, trying to scare us. I hate that I keep jumping in front of these guys who are most likely someone I already know. I hate that they know who I am, but I have no idea who’s under the bloody masked person in front of me. I smile because I am having a good time with Tyler and I am mega impressed about how great this thing turned out, even though now I only recognize snippets of the stuff I helped set up. It looks so much crazier now that it’s show time.

  The music blares and the scary figures keep jumping out at us as we go through the maze of a haunted house. Before we turn yet another corner that will lead us into another hallway of madness, I stop and grab Tyler’s pearl snap shirt, tugging him down to my level. “You okay?” he asks, concern sweeping across his gorgeous face.

  “This isn’t a good place to talk,” I say. Although it’s more like a yell over the loud music. “You brought me here just to avoid talking.”
I glare at him. “You can try all you want, but you won’t get out of talking to me.”

  His cocky smirk looks a little scary in the overhead lighting. He nods toward the corner. “Come on, I’ll show you where we can talk.”

  At the end of a large hallway is a large metal door, almost like some kind of scary insane asylum elevator door. I don’t recall seeing this when I was helping set up. Tyler presses the filthy red button to the right and the door clanks open, revealing what looks like the inside of an elevator from hell. Fake blood splattered everywhere, graffiti on the walls, one single florescent light bulb that flickers every few seconds.

  “After you,” Tyler says with a wave of his hand. I roll my eyes, pretending that this isn’t a little scary, and step into the fake elevator, surprised when the bottom shakes a little, as if it wasn’t sitting on solid ground.

  Tyler joins me and the doors slam closed much quicker than they had opened. “We can talk in here,” he says. “This thing will take a while.”

  “I didn’t know we had this,” I say, peering around at the realistic décor. Tyler steps forward until I’m backed into the corner of the fake elevator. “What did you want to talk about, Miss Robin Carter?”

  My mouth opens and—I completely forget what I was going to say. The fake elevator lurches, shaking and rumbling as it tumbles around the air, pretending to be rising to the next floor. At least, I think it’s pretending. The metal building doesn’t have a second floor. My eyes go wide at the surprise and Tyler smiles. “Cool, huh? We had it brought in from Houston.”

  “Very cool,” I say with a smile. He steps a little bit closer, something I hadn’t thought possible. Now my head is against the wall and I’m staring up at him as he towers over me, his cowboy hat casting a shadow over his features. I can see him bite his lip though, and his hands slide out of his pockets and hover in the air between our bodies.

  I swallow. “I wanted to talk about…um, us.”

  “I’d like to talk about us, too.”

  If I were in my right mind, I’d be embarrassed at how goofy my smile is right now. Instead, all I do is suck in a sharp gasp of air when Tyler’s warm hands slide around my waist, pulling me toward him as the elevator shakes. I lift my chin and my face fits perfectly under the brim of his cowboy hat. I see his eyes close, and then his lips crash into mine.

  A million emotions swirl through my mind, all of them good and none of them coherent. I close my eyes and tell myself to focus on the kiss, and not the creaking metal on metal sounds or the shaking of this stupid elevator. His lips move against mine and I kiss him back, wrapping my arms around his neck to keep him close.

  I breathe in the scent of his cologne and move for another kiss—only it lands on his chin. The elevator has reached its ascension into chaos and now it rocks at sharp angles, sending us wobbling around everywhere. I clutch to Tyler so I don’t lose my balance. His hands slide around my back and down to my butt. I hold tightly around his neck as he lifts me up, pressing my back against the wall and encircling my legs around his waist.

  “Where were we?” he whispers as the fake elevator continues to shake. I answer by kissing him again. And it’s a good kiss. Emotional fireworks burst between us and somewhere in the back of my mind, I think this was totally worth the wait. Then I remember it was all my fault that I had to wait so long to have my fingers sliding up the back of Tyler’s recently buzzed hair, my legs wrapped around his waist like we’re in a real falling elevator and my life really does depend on it. His hands slide roughly up my back, squeezing me against him as we continue to make out. I should just let myself get caught up in the moment but I can’t stop thinking that this feels so right, yet I’ve waited so, so long for it to happen. We could have been making out for weeks now.

  The elevator jolts to a stop. The metal door slides open. Tyler steps back slowly, a dazed look on his face. My feet fall back to the floor. Somewhere in the tumultuous elevator ride, we got spun around because the elevator opens into another hallway, not the one we came from. Tyler holds out a hand for me and I take it.

  But when he steps forward, I stay firmly in the same spot. “That wasn’t talking,” I say, my voice seeming too loud, even over the Halloween sounds playing through the speakers all around us.

  “What do you want to talk about?” His emotions reel in and that smile on his face turns to concern. My heart thumps in my chest and I desperately want to shrug, shake my head and say never mind. But then I know I’d be pissed at myself for backing down, so I drop his hand and look him in the eyes.

  “What’s the deal with Elizabeth?”

  His eyebrows draw together. It’s as if that was the last possible question he had thought I’d ask. “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t even give me that crap,” I say, shaking my head. “She obviously has a thing for you. And half the time I think you have a thing for her.”

  He nods and takes a deep breath, his cheeks poofing out as he exhales. “I’ll explain everything you want to know,” he says, reaching for my hand again. “Let’s get out of here first.”

  Ten minutes later, Tyler hands me a paper wand of pink cotton candy. “Stop biding for time,” I tease, pulling off a piece of sugary fluff and popping it in my mouth.

  “You’re the one who wanted cotton candy,” he says, bumping into me with his shoulder. He steals a piece of it and I watch it melt as it touches his tongue. I bet his lips taste even better now.

  “You are the master of cocky smiles, you know. I’ve never seen someone look as arrogant as you do right now.” I don’t tell him that he looks super-hot with that cocky grin on his face. He doesn’t need to know that.

  “Well I’m not usually so arrogant,” he says, leading me away from the crowds.

  “You’re just making an exception for tonight?”

  He nods. “The hottest girl in town just made out with me so I’d say I’m entitled to some arrogance. I mean, that same girl has been known to shoot me down and lie about not wanting to date anyone.”

  I punch him in the arm. “Don’t call me a liar.”

  He grabs my fast right after it connected with his arm and slides his hand around my fingers, interlacing his hand with mine. Now we’re walking on a cool October night in the middle of nowhere Texas, and we’re holding hands and I’m eating cotton candy and things just really can’t get any more perfect or cliché than this.

  I hold out my cotton candy, offering him some more. He leans forward and takes a bite. I watch him a moment, before unleashing a bunch of word vomit. “So what the hell is going on with Elizabeth? I need answers, now, and don’t think you’ll make out with me again if you keep avoiding them.”

  We approach a truck in the back of the parking lot. I think it’s his truck but all the beat up pickups in this town look the same. He lets down the tailgate and we sit on the makeshift bench. I have to slip my hand out of his in order to hoist myself up onto the tailgate and now I’m desperately wishing I could hold his hand again. But instead of grabbing for it, I cross my arms and stare at him. I need answers and I will not buckle into a little girl with a crush.

  Tyler sits up straight on the tailgate, wincing a little. “Oh shit,” I say, reaching for him but not touching him. “Your stitches! Did I hurt them in the elevator?”

  He shakes his head. “Nah, I’m okay. They’re not bad.” He slides his fingertips under this thighs but I’m not entirely convinced that I haven’t hurt him. “Elizabeth and I grew up together. We’ve always been friends. She’s made some really bad choices in life and pretty much every time she screwed up, I’ve had to pull her out of the hole she’d gotten herself into.”

  “Did you date her?”

  “No.”

  My whole body seems to exhale when I hear his answer. Just about all of my jealousy can be quelled if I know they didn’t date. As long as she’s Elizabeth, the friend, and not Elizabeth, the ex, then I’ll be okay. He stays rigid though, and I notice he’s biting his lip. “What is it?” I ask.


  He sighs. “For the sake of honesty, I have to tell you that we made out once.”

  My stomach twists into a knot. “When?”

  “Years ago. Right after high school.” He takes off his cowboy hat and runs a hand through his hair. “So, when you say that she likes me, well, you’re right. I think she’s always liked me. But I don’t like her and I never have.”

  “But you made out with her. That requires some degree of liking a person,” I point out.

  He shrugs. “I was a kid. I wanted to make out and I didn’t much care for who it was with. When she told me she had feelings for me, I tried feeling the same way but I just couldn’t. I love her as a friend, but that’s all it’ll ever be.”

  My eyebrows narrow. My mind is whirling with all of this new information and as much as I want to go psycho girl crazy on him and get up and leave, claiming that he can’t be trusted because I’ve known other guys who can’t be trusted—I don’t. I draw in a deep breath and remain calm, and cool, and all of those qualities that make someone desirable. I force a smile. “Do you want to be with me?”

  I almost regret the words the second I say them, but instead of back peddling the conversation, I gnaw on the inside of my lip and wait for his response. He brushes a strand of hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear even though that’s not how my hair is styled. “I do,” he says. His smile turns sinister. “Well, I do until I get to know you better and find out if you’re some kind of weirdo or not.”

  “Maybe I should be worried that you’re a weirdo,” I say, nudging him in the shoulder. He laughs. “There’s only one way to find out if I’m a weirdo.”

  “And what’s that?” I try to sound coy, but I know I do a terrible job.

  “Go on a date with me,” he says, his face getting serious. “And not one of those fake dates either. A real one.”

  I take a bite of cotton candy. “I guess I can do that.”

  Tyler’s hand slides around my back, his fingers wrapping around my side. He leans closer to me, his cheek touching mine as his lips lower to my neck. “Does that mean you want to be with me?” His breath tickles my skin, sending chills down my entire body.