Killing Me Softly(A Broken Souls Series)

I hurt myself today,

To see if I still feel

I close my eyes and as he gets to the second line, I sing with him. Our voices meld together in all the right places.

I check my watch knowing Tate has to be at work first thing in the morning. We’re only twenty minutes from the restaurant but we should leave before anything happens. Time passes so quickly, we’ve been out here for two hours. “We should go,” I say reluctantly.

Tate sets his guitar behind us flat on the bed of the truck. “You have a beautiful voice. I’d like you to sing with me sometime.”

“You’re a funny guy. There’s no way I’m singing in front of strangers.”

“We’ll see.” He stands up and before I jump down, he’s standing in front of me, coaxing my knees apart. I suck in my breath at the intimacy of the closeness. His hands caress my bare arms causing my body to shiver all over. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” No, but you can tell me. “You have a way about you that makes me feel like you’ve been hurt and you fight to hide the pain. I want to be the one who brings happiness to you. Holland, you deserve to be happy. One day, I want to know your story, one day, I want to be in your story.”

Oh shit. I don’t know what to say. How do you respond to something so sweet but true. I do fight to hide the pain, how does he know that so soon? “I think you are already a part of the story,” I say without thinking.

His hand goes to the back of my head and before I have time to breathe again, our mouths are pleading to become one. The kiss is so deep and passionate I’m hopeful my body hasn’t turned to jell-o. He pulls back and looks into my face, our eyes begging to see the soul of the other.

“We should go,” He whispers to me. He’s right, but I don’t want to be anywhere else in the world than right here, right now.

“You’re right.” He places his hands on my waist and lifts me off the tailgate. He holds my hand as we walk the short distance to the passenger side.

The parking lot is empty except for my car and a security car driving around the theater.

As the gentleman he’s proved himself to be, he opens up my car door for me.

“Holland, can I call you tomorrow?”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” Andy would be so proud of me for being so bold.

“I have a busy week this week, would you like to go to my show Friday Night in Edmond?”

“I work until six on Friday, but yeah, I’d love to if that isn’t too late to get there.”

“That will give us time to grab some dinner and set up. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Text me to let me know you got home okay.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Thank you for tonight, it was perfect.” The universe should shine a little brighter from the happiness falling off my essence.

I’M HOME. GOODNIGHT TATE

GOODNIGHT HOLLAND, SWEET DREAMS

If I’m lucky, I’ll be dreaming about him.

***



Chapter Six. Date Night

It feels like forever since I’ve seen Tate. Edmond is only a twenty minute drive from work, so Tate is picking me up at the mall when I get off at six. Sam and Bethany have harassed me to death about going out with them this weekend. I’m not sure why I haven’t told them about my plans with Tate, but I haven’t. Sam came to work at three and has hinted around about going out tonight. All he wants is a designated driver and neither Bethany nor he can handle not drinking.

“Holl, Mr. Perfect is here,” Sam’s voice says over the loud speaker in the back office.

Tate is standing at the counter talking to Sam as I approach. He’s at an odd angle with his arm behind his back. As I get closer, he hands me a pink rose. My heart beats so hard, I’m positive he can see it through my work shirt.

“Hi Holland, I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time,” Tate holds my gaze as he talks.

There is never a bad time to see him. I’ve been excited to see him all week.

“No, not at all.” Because all I’ve been doing is checking the time every five minutes, six can’t get here quick enough. “Follow me back to the back, I was about to do my shift paperwork. Sam, buzz me if you need me.”

“You smell nice,” Tate says as he follows me to the office. “This is like going to the principal’s office. I was really bad today, you might need to paddle me.”

“Paddle you? We’ll have to see how bad you were.” With that, Tate closes the office door with his foot and pulls me up to him and kisses me. I take a step backwards to put my back against the office door to get my balance. His hands go to the door, one on each side of my head and my heart leaps into my throat. He kisses me on the neck, trailing his way to my mouth. I’m fighting to stay on my feet.

He pulls away and after a moment, I open my eyes and he’s smiling at me. “I’ve been wanting to do that all week. Every phone call and text was great, but nothing compares to the touch of your lips.” He pulls away and braces me as I gather my balance.

We’ve Skyped every night after my dad fell asleep and Tate’s roommate was out drinking. We sat on the phone so long the other night, I’m not sure we didn’t fall asleep talking. Now I know his favorite color is green, his middle name is Oxford after his grandmother’s maiden name. He had an imaginary pet goat until he was five, which he named Oxy after himself. He’s only dated one girl seriously and that was in high school. Saturday is his favorite day of the week because he can sleep in. He wears a size eleven shoe and doesn’t trust people who wear socks with sandals. His favorite type of comedy is storytelling and his favorite comedian died a couple of years ago. At least once a week he watches Wheel of Fortune because he likes to feel smart. He’s never told anyone other than his family that he loves them.

I wish I had an imaginary goat.

It’s been exactly one week since he asked me on our first date but I feel like we’ve been dating for months. By the way he kissed me, he does too.

“Let me sign out this order and wait for the closing manager to come in for his shift.”

“I’m content sitting here watching you be you.”

“Oh lord,” I say shaking my head back and forth.

Tate shrugs his shoulders with a big cheesy grin.

***

I kick Tate out of my office so I can change clothes. My outfit from Andy’s box of clothes is a pair of white palazzo pants and a yellow fringed top. At five foot five, I’m barely able to get away with pants so wide in the leg. Andy and I were the same height, except she insisted she was an inch taller than me. The fringe started about an inch from my waistband and if I moved the right way, you can see my belly ring. The day I turned eighteen, Andy and I went to a piercing place and we both got matching piercings. I’ve concluded from that experience that I’ll never ever get another piercing. Ever.

Tate’s face from across the room assured me I made the right choice in outfits.

“Holland, date night suits you,” Sam says as I cross over to the cashier section. “What are you kids doing tonight?”

He’s going to text me in five minutes and ask me why I didn’t just say I had a date tonight. I was afraid if I admitted to the date, Tate would cancel on me.

“We’re going to dinner and then he’s performing at Witch-Crafts Brewery in Edmond.” No way in hell am I telling him that I may or may not sing with him. Throughout the week Tate made at least seven bribes worthy of collecting on. He promised me a trip to go to Six Flags over Texas, a day kayaking, the cheesecake of my choice from Cheesecake Factory and a few other bribes of chocolate and dinner.