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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.”
