Tyler Lockwood Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Yes sir, I will” “Also, get ready you’ll be handling Tyler Graham’s interviews” he said gently tucking his hands into his pockets. My colleagues broke out in gasps immediately when he mentioned Tyler Graham. Tyler Graham was a football player and he was the nation's sweetheart, he was the highest paid footballer, had a lot of fans and was quite popular among ladies. “The rest of you would be allocated appropriate jobs also as soon as possible” he concluded and with that he walked out.

“But no, it was more like, he had one fucking move. One. And he acted like he invented it.” I nearly choke on my drink. “Oh, fuck off.” “I’m serious,” he groans. “Every time, same shit. Like, bro, mix it up. Throw in some variety. Give me a reason to stay.” I’m laughing now, full-on, shaking my head as Tyler rubs a hand down his face like he’s still recovering from the experience. “So what happened?” I ask. Tyler sighs. “Told him it wasn’t working out, and you know what he said? He fucking flexed and told me I’d regret it when he got drafted.”

The silence stretched on and on, until even Leo seemed surprised by it. Finally Tyler cleared his throat. “Yes, it’s true. I’ve never fully controlled my wolf. That cell was my… insurance policy.” I could see it embarrassed him. The great Tyler Blackwood, Alpha of Bluestone, admitting to something like that. In any other moment, Christian would’ve pounced on that admission with a mouthful of sarcastic jabs, a smug smirk ready to slap across his face. But this time? Nothing. Christian just stared at him.

he sighed. “Was he some camper or something?” he asked. I laughed at the idea of Logan as a camper. “No, he was not a camper. He’s the owner of the camp and was there doing an undercover boss thing. He’s why Mister Moors got arrested for letting poachers onto the property. He cares so much about the wildlife there. The wolf I found at the start of camp, he buried. And then the night that guy attacked me, Logan saved me. And we just got closer from here. I can talk to him about anything and everything,” I explained. “And the chemistry between us is off the charts. Logan makes me feel things I never felt before,” I shuttered, remembering last night. “Do you need a moment alone?” Alex teased. “

The hum of the fridge filled the silence of the apartment — familiar, steady, too loud for a morning that already felt heavy. Footsteps shuffled down the hall. Tyler appeared, hoodie half-zipped, backpack slung over his shoulder. His hair stuck up at odd angles — kid looked like he’d wrestled with sleep and lost. “You’re up early,” I said, reaching for a mug. “Coach said I could come in before class to help with drills.” He grabbed a protein bar and then spotted my phone lighting up again. “You’re trending. Again.” “Lucky me.” He tore open the wrapper, chewing slowly, eyes narrowing. “It’s about her, right? The reporter?”

Tyler coaxed me as he handed me a flask. Tyler was the school’s bad boy. He rode a motorcycle, dressed in a leather jacket, biker boots, and had tattoos. Someone started a rumor that he had both his nipples pierced, but I couldn’t vouch for that because I had never seen him without a shirt on. It didn’t stop me from looking at his chest now that I was standing so close to him.

“In her room.” Tyler has already reached their bedroom. He rattles the door handle trying to open the door, and growls, “The fucking door is locked.” I watch as he takes a few steps away, then runs at the door throwing his right shoulder against it. There's a sickening crack; I am not sure if the wood or one of the bones in his shoulder has cracked. He snarls, taking another couple of steps away from the door, and growls, “Help me get this fucking door open, Xavier.”

Riley gently scolds starring at the four of us. Amy's eyes flicker between Ty and Tris; "Right, sorry; you're boys are handsome, Liam and they look so much like you." "I'm 4 years old and Trissy's 1 year old," Tyler announces proudly from in between Axel and me; while holding Axel's hand. "What's your name, sweetheart?" Amy asks him; squatting down in front of Tyler. Tyler looks up at me in question and I not for him to answer; "I'm Tyler Lukas Carmichael; and my bofer is Tristan Patrick-Riley Carmichael. Our daddy Luke died but we hafe a new daddy."

he said, tossing everything he bought onto the floor before collapsing onto the bed like he was exhausted. I stood near the bed, unmoving. But then he reached out and pulled me down onto him. “You don’t miss me, huh?” he asked softly. I didn’t answer. Not because I didn’t miss him. I did. Back then, I thought no one could touch me the way Logan did. That was until I met Tyler. Tyler didn’t need smokes or white ice. He just knew how to make love like a stallion. And now that he would die, well… maybe it was because of how he touches me, that’s why I wasn’t as tempted by Logan’s offer.

I ask. Tyler walks forward slowly, stopping right in front of me. Meanwhile, Alex steps back a little, still grinning like this is the best day of his life. Tyler runs a hand through his hair, and stares at me. “I was going to do something big,” he says quietly. I blink. “This isn’t big?” He huffs a small laugh. “Alex said I needed dramatic.” “Alex is a bad influence,” I say immediately. “Correct,” Alex calls. Tyler ignores him and takes a breath instead. Then, right there in the middle of the parking lot, surrounded by half the school, Tyler Brooks drops to one knee.