Tyler Lockwood Novels & Stories

But the burner phone calls told a different story. Three calls to Tyler this week alone. Each lasting between five and ten minutes. What were they talking about? Money, obviously. Karla needed to keep Tyler quiet and cooperative. But what else? Damien opened another file the background check on Tyler that Marcus had prepared. Tyler James. Age 28. Mechanic at Morrison's Auto Shop in Philadelphia. High school graduate. No college. No criminal record beyond a few speeding tickets. Dated Karla for two years before they broke up four months ago, right around the time she'd discovered she was a Nightbane.

He didn’t miss a beat. I raised a brow. “Hi to you too.” Tyler ignored me. “I was texting because I needed front row access to the awards! I made a bet with one frat idiots that I’d stream it live with your help!” “Well, sorry I wasn’t helpful,” I said, cozying into the seat. “I was busy trying not to burst from anxiety.” Tyler huffed dramatically, then waved his hand. “Fine. I forgive you. It’s not your fault. I blame Tyson. He didn’t come through for me when I begged him to get me access to the awards.”

I broke off when Ty started his shit again. " We said we'd never do that shit, and this is fucked Logan that you'd even think of doing it. You and Connor have your women now; you can't just up and leave them no matter what the fuck. They come first fuck everything else. Fuck these assholes." "Fourteen fucking years, I gave them fourteen years of my life and would've given them the whole twenty, and for what? So they can lie to our fucking faces like we're fucking sheep." Tyler bunched his fists as he prowled around the room.

Perhaps Logan was going to use this as some sort of bargaining maneuver. “You look really pretty, Aunt Liv,” Tyler said once he got to me. His hair was gelled and messy in an apparent attempt to mimic Logan's easy bed-head look. Unfortunately, without Logan's team of hairdresser's, it wasn't having quite the same effect. He still looked cute, though. “You look very handsome yourself,” I complimented him. He grinned and stood up a little taller.

Right then, Tyler stuck his head out from his room, his blond hair spiked up wildly like he had been running his hands through it, and he was in nothing but these tight boxer shorts that hugged everything, showing off every curve and bulge, especially that obvious hard-on tenting the front like he had just hit pause on jerking off. His eyes had that playful, naughty spark, his lean body toned from whatever he did to stay fit, not as bulky as Jake but still enough to make me swallow hard. “Whoa, nerd invasion! Laura’s here to kill the vibe and lecture us on homework or some shit.” He grinned widely, stepping all the way out into the hall, his bare feet padding on the floor, and I could not st

Then, she saw him. Tyler. Tyler Bennett, who’d been the star quarterback of their football team, the most popular guy in school, the one who’d always had everything handed to him on a silver platter. He was standing near the bar, his back to them, but Kayla would recognize that broad shoulders and that cocky stance anywhere. But when he turned around, she barely recognized him. His face was gaunt, his hair unkempt, and he was wearing a worn-out suit that looked like it had seen better days. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he was holding a glass of whiskey so tightly his knuckles were white.

A bitter, staggering smile crawled on his face as his eyes swept through me. My unbuttoned shirt. My exposed nipples. My opened thighs. The hickey on my neck. He saw them. He saw everything. Landon couldn't care less. He dragged himself up from the chair and began to button his shirt. “Don't just show up and ruin my moments, Tyler. Have some respect for your stepmother,”. Stepmother?! Was Tyler….? Tyler stood there, blinking back his tears. I could tell there was a bomb blast going on in his mind, he just had a calm exterior but within would be a raging storm.

I’d spotted it weeks ago near Topanga and bought it on impulse because it reminded me of him. Tomorrow was our engagement party, the official merging of Woodhills and Stormbane packs under one united front. But tonight could just be ours. “He’s going to lose it,” I murmured, resting my forehead briefly against the steering wheel. Tyler cried at everything. Military reunion videos. Emotional movie scenes. One time he watched wedding vows on YouTube and had to pretend he had allergies afterward. God, I loved that about him. The way his tough Alpha image cracked over little things that mattered.

Tyler bit his lip, shamelessly checking me out. Dean's hold on my hand tightened. Tyler's eyes moved to Dean, "Dean Ryan, the one and only." "Do I know you?" Dean asked, a little bit too sternly. Tyler placed a hand on his chest, "Grace didn't tell you about me?" Dean looked down at me. I stayed silent. "Allow me to introduce myself, since your lovely girlfriend didn't," he smirked. "I am Tyler Jordan, the ex-boyfriend." Realization flooded Dean's eyes, obviously remembering when I mentioned Tyler to him before as the second guy I dated.