Wicked Love (Wicked White Series Book 3)

by Michelle A. Valentine

  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.”

  That shocks me a little. No guy has ever dedicated a song to me before, let alone sung one to me. It’s romantic to know he thinks about me.

  When he sings the first few bars, I know the song immediately: “I’ll Be” by Edwin McCain. Sure, it’s an old ’90s song, but the light rock station back home plays it all the time. This is a deep song, one with meaning. I listen intently as he serenades me with a love song.

  I look at him. I mean, really look at him, while he sings. He’s so damn attractive. It’s almost like I’m seeing him for the first time. His blue eyes dance in the evening light, and his lips look moist and very kissable. For a second, I picture attacking him in a fit of lust. Running my fingers through his blond hair, and pulling him down with me in the bed of the truck and . . .

  Before I can finish my thought, the last chord vibrates. That’s when I do it. I kiss him. I’ve never been the initiator before, but I can’t help myself. I think I’ve surprised him just as much as I’ve surprised myself. His lips are soft and tentative. I can tell he’s holding back and allowing me to take the lead. It’s magic here in the bed of this pickup as we finally connect.

  I pull away and stare into his eyes to gauge his reaction.

  Tyler licks his lips, and a slow, seductive smile flirts across them. “Wow. Remind me to play that song every time we’re alone together if that’s the reaction I’m going to get.”

  I grin. “I bet you knew dedicating a song to me would score you a kiss.”

  “I was hopeful but never expected it to.” He smiles as he leans in and caresses my cheek with his fingers and kisses me again.

  It’s nice, not overbearing or pushy, just sweet. I’ve never been with a guy who kisses so gently. Most of the time guys are too busy pawing me and ramming their tongues down my throat at this point to care about whether I’m into it or not.

  This kiss, Tyler’s kiss, seems different, softer maybe. Butterflies dance in my belly. Maybe he’s into me for m
ore than just sex. But, he is a guy, and guys usually only want one thing. Why else would he bring me out here? I want him to know that I’m into this moment—that I’m into him and am willing to go all the way if that’s what he wants.

  “So where do you want to do this?” I whisper.

  “Wh . . . what?” he stutters.

  “You know—do you have a blanket to put down or . . .” I trail off, waiting for him to fill in the rest of my sentence.

  He pulls away from me and grimaces before turning to put his guitar in the case. He doesn’t look at me, only concentrates on clasping his case shut. If I didn’t know that he’s a boy who had just been offered sex, I would say he looks pissed. That’s not possible, right? What guy gets mad because you tell him you want to sleep with him?

  He slides down off the tailgate of his truck, and lands with a soft thud into the semi-wet soil below. I’m puzzled. Am I being rejected? That never happens to me.

  “Hey! Where are you going?” I ask loudly as he turns toward the cab of his truck.

  He shakes his head. “I think this was a mistake. You’re not the girl I thought you were.”

  Mistake? What the hell does that even mean? He looks disgusted, like the idea of sleeping with me offends him. What’s his deal? I’m pretty. I’m hot. Guys practically line up to be with me back at school.

  He’s pissing me off. How dare he try to make me feel bad about myself? It took a lot for me to put myself out there like that, and his reaction crushes me.

  “Whatever,” I huff, jumping down to the ground, still feeling the sting of rejection.

  Suddenly I can’t wait to get out of here and away from him.

  I take a couple big strides toward the passenger side of the cab, and Tyler, seeing that I’m ready to leave, heads toward the driver’s side. Before I make it to the door, he grabs the side of his truck and looks at me from across the bed of the truck. “Hey, wait. Avery . . . look . . . I’m sorry. It’s just . . .”

  It’s hard to make eye contact with him, knowing now that he finds me repulsive, but I need to hear him explain what it is about me that he dislikes so much. I stop in my tracks and meet his gaze from the other side of the bed.

  “Just what?” I practically growl, fighting back the humiliating tears that sting my eyes. No one sees me cry anymore. I made a pact with myself after I saw the complete new me in the mirror the first time that I would never cry over a guy hurting my feelings ever again. So far, I’ve stuck to that promise, and I’m not about to let him have the satisfaction of knowing he’s getting to me. “You don’t like me, that’s fine. I get it. I’m not the girl you thought.”

  It nearly kills me to say this out loud because it hurts way more than I thought it possibly could after only knowing him a few days.

  Tyler doesn’t reply. His hands grip the side of the truck, like he’s holding on for dear life while he stares at the ground. I cross my arms while I wait for him to respond. It’s like he’s figuring out an explanation to let me down easy. I wish he would just come right out with it though. I need to know what he finds so repulsive about me, so I can fix it and never feel like this again.

  “Shit,” he mumbles. “I like you, Avery. You’re funny, beautiful, and smart. And I can’t believe someone like you would be into me like that. I want to have sex with you. Believe me, there’s nothing more I would like to do than throw you down in the back of my truck and fuck you senseless, but I can’t.”

  That makes no sense. This only confuses me even more.

  “Can’t? Do you have a girlfriend or something?” I ask. “I hope the answer is no because you know how I feel about cheaters. This time I won’t chicken out when I get my hands on a crowbar when it comes to your truck.”

  He shakes his head. “No. No girlfriend.”

  I furrow my brow. “Then what’s the problem? I like you and I thought you liked me too after the way you sang that song to me. I don’t understand.”

  “I know it doesn’t make sense, and I’m not really sure how to explain it. Get in the truck,” he says, not responding to my question, merely dancing around it.

  “Why? Why should I?” I snip and it comes out sounding all kinds of bratty, but I’m hurt and it’s in my tone.

  Tyler’s eyes soften. “Please, Avery. There’s something I want to show you.”

  I stand there unmoving for a few moments wondering what on earth he would need to show me that would explain the reason he doesn’t want to sleep with me. I should say no, because he’s already said enough to hurt me, but my curiosity wins out and I hop into the cab, ready to solve this mystery.

  AVERY

  We bounce down the rocky path away from the Sucker Hole toward the road. Neither of us says anything else to the other. I don’t have the faintest clue what Tyler wants to show me, but now I’m curious as hell. Besides, I don’t have any other choice but to go with him. Being stranded out in these woods wouldn’t exactly be the ideal situation.

  The tires chirp against the blacktop as they make contact with the main road. He’s in a big hurry now for some reason. I hope he doesn’t think my offer still stands, because he totally ruined that moment.

  Tyler’s eyes stay focused on the road in front of him as his lips twist. He appears to be worried and lost in deep thought and that scares me a bit. Whatever he wants to show me must be something that’s upsetting and I’m not sure how much more I can handle tonight.

  Then it hits me. I bet he forgot to bring condoms. That’s why he looks upset and said that we couldn’t have sex. Now for his comment about not being the kind of girl he thought. He probably didn’t think I’d go for him so quickly and that’s really sweet, but he should’ve known better. He’s hot and I wouldn’t be out on this date if I weren’t into him.

  All of this makes sense now, and it won’t surprise me if he pulls into the next convenience store we see to buy condoms.

  About the time I start feeling secure with my internal rationalizations, he makes a left into Pleasant Hill Cemetery.

  This doesn’t exactly look like a gas station.

  My eyebrow arches and I bite my bottom lip. “Um . . . what are we doing here?”

  “I’m going to try to explain to you why I couldn’t—can’t . . . you know,” he says.

  Right. How is taking me to a creepy cemetery close to dusk going to explain anything—other than maybe he’s a freak? I hate being isolated in the country, let alone this place, and to top it all off, it’s going to be dark soon. It’s so scary. What in the hell does he need to show me in here?

  He parks the truck under a huge maple tree and cuts the engine. He licks his lips and lets out a huge sigh before he turns toward me. “Come on. I want you to meet my dad,” he says.

  Wait. What? His dad is dead, from what I had gathered the other night when Granny mentioned his family at dinner. It’s kind of morbid he brought me out here on a date. This guy clearly has issues and it makes me begin to worry about my safety.

  “Um . . .” I say hesitantly.

  He holds his hands up, palms out. “It’s okay, Avery. I know this is weird, but I want to tell you about him, so you’ll understand me, and why I . . . can’t have sex with you no matter how much I like you.”

  He’s obviously still dealing with his dad’s death or whatever, so I’ll go along. Maybe it’ll help with closure.

  “Okay.”

  I follow his lead as he gets out of the truck. He stops beside me and reaches his hand out to me. I grip it tight, because honestly I’m a big chickenshit when it comes to spooky places. Haunted houses even scare the crap out of me. I know it’s all fake and everyone’s an actor, but the last time I went I got so freaked out I almost peed my pants, so it’s nice that he wants to stay close to me out here.

  We walk down the hillside and stop at a grave that looks much fresher than the others. No wonder he’s still weirded out about his dad. It doesn’t look like he’s been dead all that long. I glance at the tombstone that reflects in the twilight. It says he d
ied a little over six months ago.

  I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose someone you love so much. Sure, my mom’s not around anymore, but she’s still alive and I can call her whenever I want—if I wanted to, that is. I mean, I know she’s a bitch and that she sucks royally for what she did to Dad, but she’s not out of my life for forever like Tyler’s dad is out of his.

  “I’m sorry about your dad,” I say and give his hand a little squeeze.

  He doesn’t really say anything, just stares at the big slate rock at the end of the newly sprouted grass. It must be hard, knowing your dad’s under all that dirt—not being able to touch him, hug him, or hear his voice.

  I wipe a tear from my eye and choke back the lump in my throat. What would I do if that was my dad? I would probably break down, crawl into a hole somewhere and completely shut down, not wanting to live anymore without him.

  Tyler drapes his arm around my shoulders and rubs my arm and I find his gesture sweet. What kind of guy comforts a girl who’s crying in front of his dad’s gravesite when she should be the one comforting him? I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m not sure why I feel this way about a man I’ve never even met, but I think it has a lot to do with the fact that I can empathize with what Tyler’s going through.

  “I don’t mean to freak you out or upset you by bringing you here, but I felt like it was something that I needed to do so you’d understand,” he says, then pauses, taking in a shaky breath, and continues, “My dad was everything to me. My hero. The man I looked up to and wanted to model my life after. He and Mom always seemed so happy, and that’s all I ever wanted in life—to find the kind of happiness they had. It wasn’t until Dad got diagnosed with cancer that he began talking to me seriously about my getting out of this town and making something of myself. On his deathbed—the last words he spoke I took to heart. He asked me to do something—something that may sound a little strange.”