Summer's Temptation (9 page)

“I need a break,” she whines.

I don’t stop hiking, despite her breathiness. “We’re almost there. Five more minutes, tops.”

The closer we get to my secret place, the more anxious I become. I thought it’d be months until I came back here, and I’m filled with a nervous energy about how I’ll react. So far, so good, but we’re not there yet. I want to get this over with.

“You’re killing me,” she gasps. “How can you move so fast with all that equipment?”

I tighten my sweaty grip on my telescope case and shrug. Carrying all this stuff isn’t easy, but when I have a goal, nothing gets in my way, not even an aching back and tired legs. Hannah’s wheezing quiets, and I glance over my shoulder. The LED light illuminates her form. She’s bent at the waist, two hands braced against a tree. Tidy pink nails dig into the bark, and her chest heaves as she stares at the clover-covered ground.

“I have to take a break,” she says, sweat trickling down her rosy cheeks.

“It’s going to be midnight before we make it.” Though it’d be a fib, I’m tempted to tell her there’s a hairy black spider on the tree, inching toward her hand. That’d put a fire under her butt, but it also might give her a coronary considering how hot and tired she looks. If I wasn’t so needy, I would have spared her and come by myself, but let’s face it, I’m a wimp. I drop my equipment by her feet. “Take your time.”

She holds up one finger. “Just give me… a… minute.”

I nod and wait for her. Ten minutes later, we step out of the tree line and into my private meadow on the shore of Pete Lake. I scan the area, waiting for something to happen. A panic attack. Tears. Cursing. I don’t feel any of those things, and I’m shocked by my lack of reaction.

I’ve been so careful to avoid the places Wyatt and I frequented. The bars. The restaurants. Even the street between his fraternity and my sorority. Going near those places made my stomach knot so tight, I’d feel like vomiting, but I don’t feel that here. Maybe it’s because it’s dark, or maybe I’m just ready to move on. Either way, I’m grateful and glad I came.

“You okay?” Hannah eyes me as if she’s afraid I’m going to break down in tears.

Licking my dry lips, I nod. My heart pounds a little faster than normal, probably because I half expect to see Wyatt sprawled out on a blanket in the middle of the field, staring at the sky. But he’ll never be here again, and I think I’m ready to come to terms with that.

I grab Hannah’s hand and squeeze. “Thanks for making me come out here. I needed this.”

She squeezes back. “I can come every Sunday if you want me to.”

I smile at how altruistic she is. “I think I can manage alone next week. It’ll be therapeutic.”

She blows out a long breath, seeming relieved. I suppress a chuckle. She’s really not a fan of nature.

“It’s pretty out here,” she says as though she’s trying to convince herself it was worth the hike. “Look at the lake.”

I gaze out upon the water and marvel at the way the waning moon creates thousands of tiny diamonds on the surface. I found this place freshman year, when Wyatt and I were out hiking lake trails in the spring. We’d taken a deer path instead of a sanctioned park trail, but it turned out to be a wonderful mistake. We came upon this lea, half the size of a football field and dotted with Indian paintbrush and morning stars.

The meadow was so quiet, except for the lapping waves on the shore and gentle rustling of leaves in the wind, that we both fell in love with the place. For two people used to the hustle and bustle of fraternity and sorority life, serene quiet was its own kind of heaven. With a clear view of the sky, I knew it would be the perfect spot for stargazing. The next night, Wyatt helped carry my equipment here. I’ve been coming every clear Sunday since. Until he broke up with me.

Pushing aside thoughts of Wyatt, I head to the middle of the clearing, swatting at the ground with my walking stick to scare off unwanted visitors like snakes or skunks. Hannah lays out a blanket while I set up my telescope. I mount it to the tripod then calibrate it using the light from my hat.

“What are you looking for?” Hannah asks.

“Mercury.” I’d made Hannah drive so I could check my favorite stargazing websites on my phone. I discovered June is one of the only months this year when Mercury is visible at night. It rarely veers far from the sun, and the glare makes it hard to see except in the early morning. But tonight, it’s mine. I hope. I’ve never actually seen it before, but I’m optimistic.

I turn off the LED light and give my eyes time to acclimate to the dark. Then I lower my face to the eyepiece. After I adjust the focus, Mercury appears, orange and white and perfect. I feel giddy, as if I’m the first person to discover the tiny planet so close to the sun. Grandpa would’ve loved this. I study the planet for a long time, memorizing the way the orange fades into yellow and then white. I doubt I’ll see it again for years, but that’s okay. It makes the moment more special.

When I’m sure I’ve absorbed every detail, I turn to Hannah. “Want to see it?”

Hannah lifts up on her knees and peers into the eyepiece. “That orange blob?” She sounds unimpressed. “That’s it?”

“Yep.”

She shakes her head at me. “I don’t understand why you’d go to all this trouble to see a colored spot.”

Of course she doesn’t get it. Hardly anyone does. When rovers can send detailed pictures of Martian landscapes straight to our laptops, a blob doesn’t seem that spectacular, but to me, it’s everything. “That colored spot is forty-eight million miles away. Just the fact that I can see it using mirrors and lenses is a feat of technology.”

Her brow furrows, and she cocks her head to the side. “You’re such a nerd sometimes. Good thing you’re cute.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Are you saying a guy wouldn’t want me for my brain alone?”

She pats my shoulder. “With boobs like yours, you’ll never have to find out.”

“You’re a bitch sometimes.” I shrug off her hand and pretend to be offended.

She nudges me in the ribs. “You love me.”

Can’t argue with that. “Yeah. I suppose I do.”

I lie back in the grass next to her and watch the stars move slowly above us. A cool breeze blows from the water, drying the sweat on my brow.

Hannah breathes out a long, contented sigh. “I really do like it out here.”

“Me too.” So much that I’m constantly afraid someone will discover my piece of heaven and take it over. “Don’t tell Dylan about this place, okay?”

She rolls on her side, and from the dim light of the crescent moon, I see her brow furrow. “Why?”

“He’ll tell Josh, and Josh will decide it’s the perfect spot for a field party.”

“Good point. I won’t tell a soul.”

We settle into companionable silence while I twirl a loose thread from the cotton blanket around my finger.

“Liz says your telescope is a phallic symbol. That’s why you like it so much.”

I cringe. “My grandfather gave me that telescope.” It’s the only tangible thing I have left of him, and therefore, my most cherished possession. “Calling it a phallic symbol is a little insulting.”

“Not my words, hers.”

“Everything’s a phallic symbol to that woman. She could probably find twenty of them on a kid’s playset.”

“Touché.” She smirks as though she’s remembering something sordid. “I once asked Dylan if he could have a threesome with me and one of my friends, who would he pick? I was sure he’d say Liz, but he picked you.”

“Me? I thought all guys wanted a night with Liz.”

She snorts. “He said he was afraid Liz would bite his wiener off.”

We giggle, but our laughter soon turns into full-blown guffawing that makes tears stream down our faces. We’ve heard rumors that Liz prefers submissive men who like it rough, but Liz swears it’s not true. That doesn’t stop us from speculating.

I wipe my cheeks with my palms. “I never thought you’d ask Dylan something like that.” As jealous as she can be, it seems like a loaded question.

She playfully shoves my shoulder. “It’s good to know who to
watch out
for.”

“Oh, please. Like any girl could steal Dylan from you.”

She smiles, seeming delighted with my reply, but she knows I’m the last girl who’d ever steal a boyfriend. I know the pain involved.

“So how are things going with you two anyway?”

She scowls at me, but her eyes dance with humor. “Are you making plans to move in on my territory?”

“I’m being serious.” Since summer session started, we haven’t spent much time together, and I have no idea what’s up with her and Dylan.

She grins so brightly, it lights up the night like a full moon. “We’re doing wonderful. I think he’s—” Her lips mash together, abruptly halting whatever she’d been about to say.

I’m alarmed by how quickly her smile fell away. “You think what?”

She stares at the night sky with too much concentration, as if the hamster wheel in her head’s spinning out of control. “I think… I think he’s taking me to see the new
Transformer
movie this weekend.” She tilts her head toward me, and one side of her mouth turns up as though she’s trying to force her smile to come back.

“How sweet of him.” I give her an
I’m-not-buying-it
look. “Now what were you really going to say?”

Her gaze darts back to the sky, and her eyebrows knit together. “Nothing. I mean, that’s all I had to tell you. I, uh… I just wanted to know if you’d like to come…” She swallows loud enough to hear. “You know, so we could spend more time together.”

What is she trying to keep from me that warrants an invitation to
Transformers
? When I hit on the only logical explanation, my heart does a happy dance and my stomach drops all at the same time. “Is Dylan going to propose?”

She scoffs, but it sounds forced. “No. Not yet. How are you and Mr. Westbrook doing?”

I know a bait-and-switch when I hear one, but I go along with it. If Hannah is getting engaged, I’ll be deliriously happy for her, but it’ll take a few days to get there. I’m not sure learning about her happily-ever-after in the spot I used to study stars with the love of my life would help.

“Well?” Hannah asks.

Right. She asked about Mr. Westbrook. “He asked me to dinner.”

Hannah bolts upright and peers down at me. “No way!”

I groan. If anyone would construe this as a budding romance, it’s her. “He wants to take me out as a thank you for helping him with a book.”

Her eyes grow wide. “Do you think he likes you, or does he really just want to thank you?”

I sit up and gnaw on my thumbnail. “He’s my teacher.”

“So? Plenty of girls have dated teachers. They just keep it under wraps until they’re out of their class.”

“There’s nothing going on between us.” And there never will be. “Besides, I’m going to find a way out of it.”

“You’re hopeless, Cassie. How are you ever going to find
the one
if you keep pushing guys away?” As I gnaw on another fingernail, Hannah pries my hand away from my mouth. “You know, it’s not the end of the world if you start dating again.”

“Easy for you to say. You have Mr. Perfect worshiping at your feet.”

She rolls her eyes. “Dylan is not the only perfect man in the world. Maybe if you’d give another guy a try, you’d find that out.”

“It’s not worth the risk,” I whisper. Love is not in my cards for the time being. If I can accept that and move on, my friends need to also. “Let’s just drop it. Okay?” If she keeps pressing, I’m afraid I’ll divulge that tomorrow at our neighbors’ party, I’m planning on asking Tyler to be my fuck buddy.

“Fine.” She pouts, her pink bottom lip protruding a hair further than her top, but she lies back down.

I’m sure she won’t give up on me forever. If there’s one thing I’ve always known about Hannah, it’s that she’s a hopeless romantic. Sometimes I wish I were too.

Chapter 9

“W
hat’s the plan?” Liz asks, scanning my outfit as I walk out of the bathroom.

I’m dressed more seductively than normal in a scoop-neck shirt and shorts that hit high on my thighs. Nude sandal wedges make my legs appear longer, and loose curls cascade down my back in an effort to make me as tempting as possible.

“I haven’t seen you dressed this sexy since Wyatt took you to the spring formal¸” she adds.

My gut clenches at the mention of my ex, but I smile and bat my eyelashes as though I’m not bothered at all. “Tonight’s the night.”

After this evening, Mr. Westbrook will no longer tempt me with his invitations to dinner. In fact, nobody will tempt me because I’ll be gassing up my willpower with one hot Mr. Mason.

“You’re going to ask Tyler to be your fuck buddy?”

“Hug Buddy,” I correct her. My gut’s no longer clenching; it’s filled with mutant butterflies sporting foot-long wingspans. I can’t believe I’m going to do this. I head to the kitchen for some confidence-in-a-bottle.

Liz follows me. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

I grab the bottle of Jose Cuervo from the freezer and a shot glass from the cupboard. “You’re not talking me out of this. I might get laid for the first time in two months.” While I’m nervous about approaching Tyler, the dream of an earth-quaking orgasm overrides my fear of rejection.

Liz grabs a shot glass and sets it on the counter next to mine. “I’m not planning on talking you out of anything. I just want to make sure he doesn’t fuck with your head or your heart.”

“He won’t, I promise. I’ve even come up with rules to keep my emotions in check.” I fill my glass and slam it back, coughing and sputtering as the tequila blazes down my esophagus. I’m not a fan of hard liquor, but it’s fast, efficient, and thorough, the exact three things I want from Tyler. I smirk at the correlation.

Liz holds her glass out for a shot. “Let’s hear ‘em.”

As I fill her glass to the rim, I say, “First, he can’t tell anybody about our arrangement. If he does, it’s over.”

She chugs her shot, mouth puckering and eyes watering. After gathering herself, she sets the glass on the counter. “That has nothing to do with keeping your emotions in check, but it’s a damn fine rule. Keep going.”

I fill her glass again. She tosses back the shot, and this time the tequila goes down with just a grimace to show for the burn.

“Second, I call him, not the other way around.”

She nods. “You decide when to play hide the snake.”

I throw back another shot. When it’s done setting fire to my throat, I sputter, “Exactly. He can’t expect sex whenever he wants it.”

“That’s not going to work.”

I scowl at her. How can she rain on my parade when she suggested a fuck buddy in the first place? “Why not?”

“Think about it. What exactly are you bringing to the table for Tyler? He already has girls lining up for a fuck. He doesn’t need you to get laid.”

She’s right. Girls queue up to ride the Tyler train, and as far as I know, it’s a one-way ticket. Girls get on, they get off, and they move along, never to ride again. What makes me think I’m special enough to travel more than once, and why haven’t I thought of this before now?

I stick my finger in my empty shot glass and draw circles in the tiny bit of tequila coating the bottom. The glass spins in tight circles as I try to solve this gargantuan issue. No matter how I roll it over in my brain, I can’t figure out what I can give him that he doesn’t already have. I pick up the shot glass, hold it a few inches over the counter, then let it fall with a loud clang. “I’m screwed.” Actually, I’m not getting screwed. That’s the problem.

“If you want him to bite,” Liz says, “what’s something you can give him that the other girls can’t?”

“Nothing,” I grumble.

“That’s not true. You can give him sex without having to prowl for a girl at a party or the bars.”

I cringe. “No way. I’m not allowing him an open pass to my body.” I’ll feel like a dirty whore if I cater to his every sexual need. Our arrangement might be about pleasure, but I’m not willing to become his sex slave in the process.

Liz runs a perfectly manicured finger around the rim of her shot glass. “Offer him a few monthly booty calls, and I’m sure he’ll be happy as hell.”

“You think?”

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you. The man’s interested in seeing you naked, and this is his only chance. He’ll take it.”

One side of my mouth curves up in a smile. “I hope you’re right.”

I’ve seen him staring at me a second longer than appropriate a time or two. Liz has too, so it wasn’t my imagination, and that shoots a thrill up my spine and gives me the extra boost of confidence I sorely need. Boys think with their little heads, so if Tyler wants me, his little head might just let him have me even if his big head thinks it’s a bad idea.

Liz taps me with her hip. “I wouldn’t send you after him if I thought he’d say no. But I do have another rule for you.”

“Oh?”

“No staying the night together.”

I never saw that one coming, and I can’t make much sense of it either. “What if we’re too tired to move after sex?” I have a feeling intercourse with Tyler will be a full contact sport that’ll leave me blissfully zapped afterward.

She rolls her eyes, and I can practically hear her calling me
naive
. “First of all, you live next door. How hard is it to walk thirty feet home? Second, staying overnight is what couples do. People who love each other. This is not about love. It’s about sexual gratification.”

I puff my bottom lip into a little pout. “Fine.” She’s right, but I was looking forward to having a man in my bed again. So much for a warm body to keep me toasty in the winter. I’ll just have to rely on my favorite stuffed monkey George.

“I have one last rule,” I say, “and I think you’ll like this one. Absolutely no sharing of personal information. We can chat about school, the weather, Vandeveer football, but not family, dreams for the future, or problems I’m having with friends. Conversations stay superficial, nothing deep.” I’m not looking for a friend to share my ambitions with. All I want is someone who can satisfy my needs, and if that means analyzing the forecast after sex, so be it. “I doubt Tyler’s capable of deep anyway.”

Liz raises an eyebrow and shakes her head. “There’s more to that boy than he lets on. Just don’t try to dig it out of him. That’s what a girlfriend does.”

“I don’t want to tame him, Liz. I need him to stay
bad
.” I draw in a deep, long breath. “One more shot, and I’m heading over.”

At Tyler’s party, people are pressed into every nook and cranny of the living room, drinking beer and flirting. I’m standing next to the fireplace, crammed between the mantel and a girl with pink hair, waiting for Liz to give me a thumbs up. She’s casing the joint, making sure Tyler’s not with another woman. Odds are good he might be.

Last week, after we came home from the lake and ate hamburgers on the back patio, he’d rushed Miranda into his bedroom. It had been barely ten o’clock, and he was done with her by ten thirty. When she left his room, her hair was a disheveled mess, and she had the most satisfied glow I’ve ever seen on a woman. I’m desperate to know how he put it there. Maybe tonight, I’ll find out.

Liz breezes through the kitchen doorway and strolls toward me. She grabs my arm and whispers, “Back patio. He’s clean.”

I take “he’s clean” to mean he hasn’t been with a girl tonight, so it’s time to do my thing. But my feet won’t cooperate. Despite the tequila warming my veins, I’m pinned in place, terror twisting my gut into tiny knots. At home, the plan had seemed so simple, even exciting, but I’m about to dive headfirst into the unknown, and I’m questioning my sanity.

“What if he says no?” I whisper.

“Then he says no. We’ll hit up Peter Long Dong next.”

I still can’t move. “I’ll be mortified.”

“You’ll survive. Now quit being a pussy and go find him.”

I remind myself that I’m doing this for a reason—to satisfy my sex drive without the entanglement of a relationship—and Tyler is the perfect man for the job. I need to buck up and get down to the business of getting a hug buddy.

The object of our discussion walks through the back door. His cranberry long-sleeve button-up is open to reveal a plain white T-shirt underneath, and his jeans are just snug enough to show off his slim hips. I’m not surprised when two brunettes attack him the moment his feet hit the linoleum. One girl runs her fingers through his thick dark hair; the other twists her hands into his shirt, smiling coyly. He smirks, leans down, and whispers something that makes her giggle.

Liz elbows me. “You’d better hurry before he gets offered a threesome. He’ll definitely pick two girls over one of you, even if you’re hotter.”

I glare at her.

She shrugs. “What? Men are pigs.” She hooks a thumb toward the back door. “I’ll be on the patio if you need me.”

She strolls through the kitchen, shaking her head at Tyler as she walks by. He’s too busy flirting to notice. I watch him slip his arms around both girls’ waists. Talk about bad timing. There’s no point in stacking the odds against myself by approaching him now. I’m about to hightail it to the corner of the living room to regroup when, to my surprise, the girls grab beers from the fridge and saunter away with way too much hip action. One of them winks at Tyler as she goes.

“You can do this,” I mutter. What’s the worst that can happen? He can say no, and then I’ll move on. I’ll be a little humiliated, but I’ve gotten over worse. With tequila fueling my confidence, I hurry toward him.

As soon as I enter the bright kitchen, Tyler gazes up and smiles. “Hey, cupcake.”

That’s the third time he’s called me that. I’m starting to wonder why, but that’s a question for another day. I’m a woman on a mission. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure,” he says. “What’s up?”

“In private?”

His warm blue eyes cool a degree, turning almost wary. “What about?”

“I can’t tell you here.” I’m sensing hesitation, so I peer up at him through my lashes. “Can we go to your bedroom? Please.” I learned long ago that my soft, feminine voice will get me anything I want as long as it’s directed at a heterosexual male. My words come out breathier than normal since my heart’s thundering. I hope that works to my advantage.

Tyler’s eyes warm again, and he blows out a long breath. “Sure.”

He presses his hand to my back and leads me through the people in the living room. Talking in his room is probably a stupid idea, because I don’t plan on having sex with him during a party. Everyone will know what we’re up to. But a few minutes shouldn’t give anyone the wrong idea. The coeds Tyler had snuggled with give me the stink eye he swore was never cast in my direction. I try to let their glares roll off me.
Like water off a duck’s back.
But I hate the competition all the same.

When I step inside his bedroom, the first thing I see is a bed way bigger than a normal college guy’s should be. It has to be a king, and it sends my mind to places I don’t want to go, like Tyler spreading a girl out on the sheets and doing things to her that make me blush. I add a new rule to my list. All liaisons will occur at my house because no way am I ever touching that bed.

Tyler shuts the door and saunters toward the offending furniture. He sits, leaning back on his palms and resting an ankle on one knee. I should speak, but my attention has moved from the bed to the walls, and I can’t stop staring. They’re full of dozens of pencil sketches of things like Omega pond in front of the library, a stork perched on a tree branch, looking gangly and awkward, a mother kneeling down to hold her toddler’s attention with her eyes.

I’d forgotten how talented he is. I study the picture hanging on the wall by the closet. A girl, no more than sixteen, stares at me, her expression haunted. She has circles under her eyes, and I know she’s gravely sick just by the resigned set of her mouth, as though she’s giving up the fight to live. I want to know who she is, but I remember rule number four,
no personal conversations,
and keep my mouth shut.

Tyler clears his throat. He’s being exceptionally patient considering two girls in the living room are gunning for his attention.

“Sorry,” I say. “Your sketches are so good, they’re distracting.”

No emotion crosses his face, but his expression softens slightly. Maybe he’s not as cocky as he lets everyone believe. Maybe he needs occasional praise too. But I’m not here to analyze the inner workings of Tyler Mason. I’m here to get a fuck buddy.

I lean against his dresser, suddenly weak. Now that Tyler’s Caribbean eyes bore into me, the tequila in my blood has ceased to take the edge off my nerves. I swallow hard and draw in a shaky breath. “I have a proposition for you.” I lick my suddenly dry lips. “It’s something beneficial to me and enjoyable for you.”

He drops his leg and sits straighter, the perfect example of a focused male body. I take another deep breath, willing myself to continue. I can do this. I just have to take it slow and explain the situation. My heart thuds, and my throat’s clogged. Maybe fast and to the point is the way to go.