Wicked Love (Wicked White Series Book 3) (6 page)

“Come out with me tonight?” he asks.

“You want to go out with me?” I question while wearing a teasing smile.

“Well, usually I think it’s only fitting we go out on a real date seeing as we’ve already been out to Walmart and all. I don’t take girls there until at least the second or third date . . . but you’re special, and since our little trip together today was sort of our date number three, we can just pretend tonight will be date number four.” He grins.

“Date four, huh? What’s in store for girls on date number four?” I ask, playing along.

“You’ll have to say yes first. Then you’ll find out.”

I absolutely love the way Tyler is so playful. I can really see myself falling for him, so I need to remind myself to take things slow with him and figure out if he’s really the nice guy that he seems to be. All I ever seem to attract are jerks, but Tyler seems so different from all the other guys I dated back on campus. He’s nice and seems to genuinely care about more than just himself. He was there for me when my friends bailed, and he was the one who came out to check on me at the frat party, and both times he didn’t know me at all. Today when he took my hand, I felt a connection with him, and I really want to see where this will lead. It will crush me if he isn’t as genuine as he appears to be. But, I’ll never know unless I give him a real shot.

“Why not?” I smile.

“Yeah?” he says, sounding a little hopeful.

“Yeah.”

“Great. I’ll come back and pick you up about seven thirty.”

“Sounds perfect.”

I’m so excited to see what Tyler has in store for a real date, and I know it’s going to be hard to control myself around him tonight. I find him ridiculously attractive, and that could be a very dangerous thing because I’m not quite ready to go through heartbreak again so soon. If it turns out Tyler is only interested in me for sex, I might just give up on the entire male species.

AVERY

T
he sun is still perched in the sky when Tyler comes to pick me up. I glance down at the clock on my cell phone. It’s seven thirty on the dot. The guy is punctual, I’ll give him that.

“So where are we off too?” I ask, while sliding on my trademark D&G shades as he fires up the truck.

“Well, I figure since it’s date number four, I’d take you to get something to eat over at the local burger place, and then we could just hang out at a local spot I know,” Tyler answers.

“I haven’t been out to eat in a while and I’ve been dying for a good salad.” God knows I need to start eating them again. I know I’ve only been at Granny’s a few days, but I can already feel the fat stockpiling in my body. Man, where’s Lars when you need him? He would die if he knew I’ve been stuffing my face with fried food and skipping my run every day. I keep telling myself I’ll run some extra miles to work off all the greasy deliciousness, but I never have. I’m not lazy,
exactly
, I just don’t want to run down some back country road all by myself. I’ve seen all the movies. I know what happens when girls go off by themselves in small wooded towns like this.

“You know, you look great, Avery. You don’t need to eat
just
a salad for me. I like a girl with a little meat on her bones,” Tyler says.

Obviously, he’s never met fat Avery. Guys don’t really mean it when they say those kinds of things. Guys will make comments like that to me now that I’m pretty and thin, but when I was a little chunky, they wouldn’t have given me the time of day. Hypocrites, that’s what all guys are. They have no idea how hard women have to work to look good.

“Right,” I say. “I suppose you would’ve asked me out if I weighed about fifty pounds more.”

“Of course I would’ve,” he replies like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

That’s a little hard for me to believe, seeing as how I wasn’t asked out one time while I was in high school. He’ll say anything to get in my pants, just like all the guys back home. Guys from my high school would try to feed me lines when they saw me after graduation like how they always noticed me, and how they wanted to talk to me, but they were just too shy. Give me a break. They weren’t too shy to ask me out after I started wearing skirts and showing off a little more skin. Guys must think we’re total idiots.

We ride in silence the rest of the way to the burger joint as I silently wish that I’m wrong about Tyler. That he’s not superficial and is really the nice guy that he portrays himself to be.

On the other side of town, Tyler turns into the parking lot of the drive-in restaurant. It reminds me of those places in the old fifties movies where the teenagers would hang out on the weekends. It’s like Sonic, but only it’s old school. The sign even says EST. 1952, so clearly this place has withstood the test of time.

We park under the car canopy and Tyler rolls his window down, since the menu is on his side. Tyler presses a red button that alerts the restaurant staff that we’re here. Tyler rattles a few items off the menu to me while we wait for someone to serve us.

It’s hard to picture Mom and Dad at a place like this. I wonder if my dad ever brought Mom here when they were dating in college. As long as I can remember, they’ve never really gotten along. They fought constantly, and Mom just never seemed happy.

Granny said she never cared for Mom. She once told me on the phone about the day Dad brought Mom home to meet her for the very first time. Granny said she knew right then and there that Mom would break Dad’s heart.

Granny must be psychic, because that’s exactly what happened.

“So, what do you want?” Tyler questions as he looks over the menu through his open window.

“A house salad, with fat-free Italian, please,” I say.

Tyler turns and points his gaze directly at me. “I thought we already went over this. You don’t have—”

I hold up my hand to cut him off. “It’s for me, okay? I like to keep track of what I eat, is all.”

“Avery,” he says my name so softly that it makes my stomach flip. “This is a burger place . . . get a burger, please,” he pleads. “Besides, I don’t think this is exactly the best place to get a salad. No one comes here for those, so the stuff would probably be all rotten.”

Eww. Gross. That thought never crossed my mind before, but now that he’s brought it up, my stomach churns.

“Okay, fine. But I expect to see you bright and early to help me run a couple extra miles to work it off,” I say in a teasing tone.

He looks at me and smiles. “Deal.”

The waitress finally comes out wearing a pin-striped apron over her white oxford and takes our order. When she’s gone, Tyler and I make small talk about the city of Wellston and what a typical Friday night is like around here for single people like us. From what I gather from Tyler, there’s nothing to do, which is why he spends most of his weekends in Columbus.

The next thing I know, our waitress returns with our food. She takes care to clip the tray onto the side of Tyler’s truck before she scurries off. After he divvies up everything, we sit in the cab of his truck with greasy burgers and fries on our laps. Not the most glamorous of first official dates, even though he claims this is date number four, but it’s kind of perfect. There’s no stress to try and impress him. Tyler seems content just being in the truck with me.

I practically inhale my burger, fries, and shake. It’s been a long time since I allowed myself to eat anything like this and I forgot how wonderfully sinful a mouthful of fast food tastes. It’s like heaven in a wrapper. I keep having to mentally remind myself why I must limit myself with this kind of food. I don’t want to become Avery Gravy again.

I shudder at those words. I haven’t thought of that name for a couple years now and I’ve done my best to keep that painful memory bottled up. Brad Rutherford ever so graciously gave that name to me in the sixth grade when I got upset because I couldn’t have a second helping of mashed potatoes and gravy during a class field trip. Everyone laughed, of course, when Brad started taunting me. I cried, but no one noticed. I was invisible—no one ever took the time to see me as a person who had feelings. All people ever focused on was the outside. Kids at that age never care how the fat girl feels.

I shake my head to clear my mind and decide that I’m going to enjoy this meal and to hell with the dietary consequences.

Every time I sneak a glance in Tyler’s direction, he’s watching me. That makes me feel a little self-conscious.

What is he staring at?

Doesn’t he know that we girls like to chow down without someone watching our every move?

“Told you that you’d like the burger.” He smiles, clearly pleased that I’m enjoying the food.

I nod, without saying a word. I can’t open my mouth to say anything even if I want to. I’m struggling to just breathe around the meaty goodness. We finish our respective meals and Tyler heads out for the next part of mysterious date number four.

We drive around town, and he gives me the lowdown on what’s hot here in sticksville. Not much, but I can’t say that that shocks me. When we drove through town yesterday, there was a whole lot of nothing.

Just as I think Tyler is about to take me back home and call our date officially over, he turns down a road leading out of town in the opposite direction of Granny’s place. The scenery here is pretty. Everything is overly green and looks like a landscape from a painting. The beauty of country living could really grow on me. No one is in a hurry, and everything seems simple compared to the hustle and bustle of my old city life.

The truck slows to a creep and Tyler moves the indicator, signaling we are turning into the woods. It’s a road, I think. The only reason I’m guessing that is because the path is beaten down by what appears to be tire tracks.

“Uh, where are we going?” I ask nervously.

I have every right to feel skittish. It’s nearly dark and he’s dragging me into a deep, dark forest. Not a place I want to be, exactly.

“You’ll see,” he says.

We bounce along the path, until we reach a little clearing in the woods. I can make out a stream flowing into what appears to be a freshwater pool. There’re even some old rickety lawn chairs strewn around. Tyler turns the truck around and backs up near the water.

“It’s so beautiful out here,” I say, and honestly mean it.

“I think so too. It’s one of my most favorite places to hang out.”

He cuts the engine, jumps out, and rushes around the front of the truck to my door. He offers his hand to help me out of the truck.

How sweet and suave.

Tyler’s warm hand holds mine tightly as he leads me to the back of his truck. I don’t miss the small, circular motions his thumb makes against my skin. It feels nice, and soothing, having him this close to me.

Tyler flips the tailgate down, and I immediately notice a guitar case in the bed.

“You play that thing pretty well,” I say, remembering back when he played at the party with his band.

He grins. “Yeah, I’m all right, but drums are really my thing. Come on, I’ll help you up,” he says as he pats the shiny black tailgate.

I nod, and that’s all the permission he needs. He puts his hands on my waist, and we stand there, face-to-face. For a minute, I think he’s going to try to kiss me, but instead he tightens his grip and hoists me up.

He joins me in one swift motion. This boy is smooth, I’ll give him that.

“So, where are we exactly?” I ask.

“This is a place we locals like to call the Sucker Hole.”

I furrow my brow. “Why do you call it that?”

He shrugs. “Because they say only suckers swim in a freshwater pond in the middle of the woods. Lots of thirsty snakes in these woods, you know.”

I laugh and tell him there’s no way that I’ll be getting in
that
water anytime soon.

So, now I can relax because he’s cool with not trying to get me to go skinny-dipping with him, which was what I initially thought he might’ve brought me out here for. I stare up at the tall trees, and the way the sun is barely visible behind them makes me a little nervous about being here so late.

“It’s going to be dark soon. Don’t you think we ought to get out of here?”

“Nothing is going to get you, Avery. You’re more likely to get attacked in Columbus than out here. You won’t be hearing
Deliverance
music anytime soon.” He laughs as he glances toward his guitar. “Believe it or not, there’re some good people here. You just have to give them a chance, and besides, I’ll protect you.”

Okay,
now
I feel stupid. Maybe he’s right. He’s nice and pretty easy on the eyes. Especially with those dimples when he smiles.

Tyler opens his guitar case and pulls out a glossy blue instrument. Confidence exudes from him as he holds it. Very rock starish. I can picture him now making it into the big time, with a hoard of groupies swooning as soon as he takes the stage. Tyler is destined for fame. He’s too good, from what I saw, not to be. He bites his lip as he strums the strings, moving his fingers along the frets to create a beautiful tune. When he opens his mouth to sing, his voice instantly soothes me. I’ve never heard this song before, but I love the rhythm of it and Tyler’s voice is phenomenal.

I close my eyes and lean back, balancing my weight with my hands. This music is easy to get into, and before I’m ready, it stops, causing the forest around us to fall silent again.

I want to hear him sing more. He’s unbelievably good. He could go on one of those singing competition shows and blow everyone else out of the water. He’s that good.

“Play me something?” I ask with my most flirty smile.

I notice how attractive he is, sitting there during the twilight. There’s something about a guy with a guitar that makes me giddy, and being in the back of this truck with Tyler at sunset while he serenades me is the most romantic situation I’ve ever been in.

I’m in awe as he starts moving his hands again rhythmically on the strings.

I don’t know this tune either. Acoustic versions of songs are always hard for me to recognize. I watch his fingers as they glide sensually down the strings and can’t help but notice how sexy it is.

When he opens his mouth and sings, my stomach tingles as a thousand butterflies flutter around inside it. His voice is even better like this—raw, with no distractions from his band pulling some of the attention away from just how great of a singer he is. A delighted smile creeps across my face. I’m genuinely impressed yet again by Tyler’s talent. His sexability factor is skyrocketing at this very moment.

When the song ends, I clap. “That was amazing.”

“Yeah?” He smiles. “I’m glad you’re starting to come around to country music.”

“That was country?” I ask, feeling a little dumb for not realizing. What can I say? I was a little distracted. “Huh, it didn’t really sound country.”

“Um, do you want me to play you a non-country song?” he asks, wearing a wry smile.

“Sure, go for it.” I giggle.

He starts strumming a few riffs.

Before he starts singing though, he looks at me and says, “This one makes me think of you.”