Killing Me Softly

“I stopped at the store on my way back,” he hands me the bag and I greedily rummage through the junk food. “You would not believe what my roommate did last night. I guess they arrested him for drinking underage and drunk dialing his CO to tell him off. He’s such an idiot,” Tate says.

“Don’t hate me, what does CO mean? I know you told me before, I just don’t remember.”

“Commanding Officer, they’re like our general manager. He is pretty cool, but Jared and he clash. We have a cush job, so I don’t understand his beef with the CO. We get to work inside, in the air conditioning and wear dress blues. Girls really dig the blues,” he says teasing me.

“Do they now?” I flirt back. “I don’t know about the other girls, but I think your blues are sexy as hell. One day, I’ll get the chance to help you take them off,” I say boldly.

He looks at me like I just told him he won the lottery. Well, I’m guessing he would look like that if he won. “I’m in! I might have a set in my car, I’m happy to fulfill your fantasy.”

“Woah there sparky, my fantasy does not include a hospital room and hamburger leg. On to bigger and better things, is there chocolate in that bag?”

“Bigger and better? Hmmmm, I’ll have to prove you wrong on that comment.”

I feel heat spread through my body as my face flushes from his words. Maybe I could tweak my fantasy to include the hospital bed. Instead of replying, because my thoughts are anything but pure, I reach for the bag of goodies. Brown-sugar Pop Tarts, Nutty Bars, Nutella and graham crackers, Dove chocolates, and bags of chips. He’s a keeper. “Prove me wrong? Promises, promises.” The pain medicine has lowered my inhibitions and given me courage to say things I wouldn’t have two months ago. “What will happen to your roommate? It seems a little excessive to arrest him for a prank call.”