Killing Me Softly(A Broken Souls Series)

“There isn’t too much to tell. I take online college courses. Everyone thinks they’re easier, but I like having the professor in a live setting. The only reason I do is it makes it easier for my crazy work schedule. I like the freedom of logging in to class at my convenience. I’m not much of a morning person, so I don’t like to take classes in the mornings. It doesn’t bother me to open the store, it isn’t at the butt-crack of dawn. School first thing in the morning is kind of a bummer.”

“Bummer, now that’s an under used word. I like it though. Would you like a refill? Another cookie? I’m going to go grab another cup of coffee and then chew large amounts of gum to rid myself of coffee breath.”

I laugh and shake my head no. As he walks away, I notice the girl up front is eagerly waiting for him. I bet he gets that everywhere he goes. Even more so, if a girl sees his guitar or motorcycle. Is that what makes him attractive to me?

When he gets back, he sets his coffee and a packet of gum on the table.

“Did you go to college to become an air traffic controller? Where are you from?” I take a sip of my latte. I don’t want to drink too much or my overactive bladder will kick in and I’ll be in the bathroom all day. Nothing screams sexy like running to the bathroom every five minutes.

“I’m from Hayesville, Oregon, population two-thousand. Give or take an airman. I joined the Air Force the day after I graduated high school. After basic training, I went to school to become an air traffic controller. I’ve taken a few online courses and hope to get my bachelors in business. Hmmm, what else? Oh, I live on base in the dorms. There’s really not too much to do on base that doesn’t involve drinking, so I play my music in coffee shops and other low-key places. Your lips are really nice,” he blurts out.

What? “Thank you.” So are yours. I muse.

“I hope to kiss them some time in the future. Not to take the spotlight off my incredibly boring life, but how old are you?”

Good question, I want to know the same answer. “I’m nineteen, why, how old are you?” Please don’t be twenty-four, that’s my cut-off age, five years. Actually, that’s the cut-off age Andy gave us when we graduated high school.

His smile lights up his face. “I’m twenty-one. Apparently, military guys like to drink themselves into a stupor on their twenty-first birthday and every weekend after. That isn’t all true, there’s a lot of people who don’t party all night but none of them work with me or live in my dorms. The guys aren’t even aware I’m a singer. I’m not sure what they think I do when I leave with my guitar. I’ll sit in my room and practice, but I don’t sing when my roommate is around.”

“Are you too shy to sing in front of him?”

“Not shy. Maybe I am a little. Growing up as an only child didn’t prepare me to live with another person the same age. In a way, I’m private about my personal life.”

“Oh, I’m an only child too. I think it would be strange to suddenly have a roommate who’s picked for me and they’re totally different with different interests.”

“There’s a lot of rumors and talking that goes on, I try to stay out of it. I do have a buddy I met at one of the coffee houses I’ve played. We get together and jam a few times a week. I’m at his house so much his wife, Tracy, is always trying to get me to meet a girl to bring over with me. His name is Don, he’s twenty-one also. They’ve been together since high school and moved to Oklahoma two years ago. Where are you from? Are you an Okie?”

“Yeah, I was born and raised here. I’ve only lived in two houses in my life, one I lived in until I was twelve and the one I live in now. The only people I hang out with are Bethany and Sam, you met them last night.” I’m not sure why I act as though he’d forget who they were. “I don’t play an instrument, but I do sing in the shower.”

His smile is genuine as we talk. Nothing feels forced or artificial, but I keep my guard up. I just met him, but we talk like we’ve been friends for a while.

“Holland, if you don’t mind driving, do you want to go downtown and walk around?”

Lord, please let this guy be for real, because I love the way he says my name. Amen. “Yeah, I don’t mind. It will be fun.” I reach in my pocket to get my keys out. I hand it to him, “If you will drive that would be cool with me. I’m always turned around when I get down there, and people drive crazy.” Car accidents scare me since Andy died in one.

“I took my truck in this morning to get the tires rotated and the oil changed. I made the appointment a few days ago, or I would have had my truck if I knew I would have a pretty girl to drive around with.” The way he said pretty girl reminded me of the old westerns my dad’s father would watch.

“Oh yeah? A truck guy huh? I can see that.”

“In a good way, or bad way?”

Mustering up all the flirting in me, I say, “Good, definitely good.”

“Definitely. I like that.” He takes the key off the table and we walk out to my car. No one but my dad has ever driven it. Something about Tate says we’ll be safe. Regardless of how cute he is, I don’t think he’s a player. He flirts back, but I don’t think he takes dating lightly. I don’t either, but a full blown relationship will have to go on the back burner.

He opens up the passenger door for me and closes it before walking around to the driver’s side. He adjusts the seat and the mirror after getting the okay from me. Thankfully, the drive is uneventful and he didn’t scare the crap out of me. Downtown Oklahoma City, is filled with high rises and skyscrapers, but Bricktown is where the fun is hidden. The streets are brick and the buildings are too. From what my Dad tells me, they were all vacant in the 1980’s when he was in school. The first major place to eat moved in during the nineties and soon other places took over the old buildings. Now, there’s shopping, a water canal for tours and a huge movie theater.

Tate pulls into the first parking area that doesn’t have a “Full” sign. He pays the attendant the ten dollars and parks under a little shade tree. For May, it’s a typical Oklahoma day. We by-passed spring and went straight to summer. It’s in the nineties but there’s promise of what the weatherman calls a cold front tonight. Tomorrow’s high is only eighty-two which means tonight will bring heavy thunderstorms and probably tornado warnings. When I was four years old, a F5 tornado came through and wiped out ten thousand homes. The house my dad grew up in was destroyed in the tornado. It gives me the shivers when I remember the devastation this city went through.

“Where to first? Would you like to walk down by the canal?” Tate’s easy going manner is infectious.

“Sounds good to me.” We start walking on the sidewalk to the stairs that lead down to the canal. My purse is draped across my chest, it bounces on my hip with every step and my sandals make a slight slapping noise on the bottom of my foot. Tate reaches over and takes my hand in his. He’s touching me! Touching me, touching me. Like announcing to the world that we’re here as a couple. Our fingers are laced together. His hand is bigger than mine, but not so big that my fingers aren’t comfortable. All I can focus on is the skin to skin contact. He must be right under six feet tall but not by much. Is he thinking about his nerve endings in his hand? Do guys think that way?