Tyler threw a fry at me.
"What the heck?" I asked, throwing it back at him.
"You're being really spacey," Tyler said, taking a bite of his burger.
"Sorry, I was just thinkin'," I shrugged, a smile on my face.
"About what?" He asked, his dark eyes watching me.
"This and that. What are you thinking about?"
"The end of my community service," he answered.
I choked on my shake. The end? Would he be leaving the forgotten network? After all, he wasn't with us by choice. I wanted to believe that he liked helping, liked working with the team, but, in reality, I could never guess with Tyler.
"I can hear the wheels turning in your head." Tyler grinned wildly at me, "giving your hamster a workout?"
"For your information, it's a gerbil," I teased back. "And what you said just-"
"Started you on a crazy Candace train of thought?" Tyler suggested.
I gave him a look, but sighed. "Something like that."
"Do you want to tell me?"
"Not really," I answered, finishing my meal and pushing it to the side like Tyler had.
"Can I guess?" He asked, raising his eyebrows mischievously.
"Knock yourself out," I encouraged.
Tyler thought for a second, twirling a ketchup packet between his fingers. Then he looked up at me. "To answer your question, no, I'm not leaving the network, I will continue to show up and bug you all every single day, well, almost every day, hopefully we don't have that many dead people."
I stared, mouth hanging open. "How did you . . . ?"
He shrugged, not sharing in my amazement. "You're predictable."
I've been called a lot of things in my life, but predictable has never been on of them. Until now, that is. "I'm not!" I protested.
"You're as predictable as the sun, don't try to deny it. You always eat the same thing for lunch, for example. You skip work as much as possible, at least once a day you complain about your job, usually to me. Every Thursday you drag either me or Lindsey to get burgers," he waved at the remains of our supper, "and every Friday you doll up Lindsey and take her out to the bars. How is that not predictable?" He smiled.
I drew only one thing from his mini-speech: Tyler Davies knew me to well, which really wasn't fair, since I couldn't predict his every move like he seemed to be able to do to me. "And you aren't predictable?" I raised my eyebrows, disbelieving.
"Nope, not in the least," Tyler said, sounding confident.
"Prove it," I challenged, not sure how he would do it, but interest to see what he would do.
"All right," he agreed, letting out a breath. He leaned over the table and kissed me for a few perfect seconds. Then he pulled away. His taste still lingering on my lips. "How predictable was that?"
"About as predictable as this," I muttered, pulling him down for another kiss.
I originally planned for this to be different, but I like the end resault, what about you? I don't own The Forgotten.