Page 8 of Leo, My Partner

“Why?”

I shrug, because even I don’t fully understand why I enjoy listening to him so much. “Your voice is soothing.”

Listening to Ty speak calms down the urgent need to kill. The need and compulsion is always there, bubbling just under the surface. Most times, I’m able to ignore it. When it gets to be too much, I select a job to sets me on an even keel. But lately, run-of-the-mill kills haven’t been giving me the high that I want. I need a kill that will leave my hands bloody in more than the metaphorical sense, requiring dismembering a body. I haven’t had one of those in a while.

But yesterday while I was with Ty for his tasting and again in my office, that part of me was quiet. Not even a flicker or nudge. Pure silence. When I thought about him after he left, that urge that wanted me to go out and slit a random person’s throat was gone. Ty’s voice quiets the urgent need to kill. It’s as welcome as it is disconcerting.

Ty’s shy smile broadens. Seeing this expression on his face is becoming my obsession. I’ve never met anyone as gorgeous as him. He’s probably this beautiful on the inside as he is on the outside. The complete opposite of me. I might look like just a pretty face, but I’m as dark as they come. If I believed in a thing like a soul, I would say mine is too stained to be close to a pure light like Ty’s.

But I’m a selfish bastard, so I won’t stay away. Ty belongs to me. I’ll try not to sully him too much.

“I’ve never heard that before. Thank you.”

When we get to my car that’s parked on the curb, I open his door, which makes his cheeks turn rosy and his beautifully colored eyes sparkle as he looks at me. “You’re the perfect gentleman.”

Little does he know…

The drive to the restaurant is spent in silence, which I don’t like. Hearing Ty’s voice brings out emotions in me I didn’t think I had. I told June when he found out I was a psychopath that I could feel emotions but not as much as a normal person. Happiness is a more abstract emotion that comes to me briefly. The last time I remember being genuinely happy is when I found my cousin Blu. Other than that, I would feel something akin to “okayness”. Just making my way through life, faking whatever emotions are required of me.

Once we pull up to Mama Bellas, I hand the valet my keys and hold out my arm for Ty. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of a blush flaming his warm brown cheeks.

“Thank you,” he mutters when I lead him up to the host stand. I give the man behind the stand my name, and he leads us back to our table. I help Ty remove his jacket and get into his seat before I take the chair across from him.

“This is the beginning of our date, but it’s already the best I’ve ever been on. No one has opened the car door for me or helped me into my seat.”

“It’s the first time I’ve done it,” I admit. I don’t go on dates. I’ve been out to eat with women, but we’d usually meet somewhere and go back to their place to fuck. Dinner was just a formality. Something I knew I had to do to appear normal.

Ty grins as he picks up his menu. “I’m not sure if you’re fucking with me or not, but I appreciate the effort.”

Our server comes over a few minutes later, taking our drink and food orders. When he leaves, I give Ty my undivided attention. “Tell me about your baking. Do you have a culinary arts degree?”

He beams and nods. “Yeah. I went to a tech school while I was still in high school and got some training. I worked part-time at a bakery in Corpin as soon as I graduated. I only left because …” His smile drops, and his eyes cloud over with what I can only assume is pain from his loss. I’ve never felt that before, so I can only guess. “After my mom died, I quit that place and moved here. I work in a law office now as a clerk.”

“Why not another bakery?”

Our server comes back with our drinks, and Ty grabs his and takes a long sip of the wine he ordered. “Fuck, that’s good.” He meets my eyes and smiles again. “Sorry. It’s been a while since I had good wine. Mostly it’s some shit that Sam gets from a box. Oh, Sam is my roommate. That’s his name. Anyway, he gets wine in a box. His girlfriend and I tell him that’s gross, but he’s cheap, and he doesn’t like to listen. He says wine is wine, cheap or not because it serves the purpose of getting him drunk. He even said it paired well with some lasagna I made, which was a lie because I drank some and gagged for about five minutes straight. I don’t drink his wine in a box anymore. So yeah, first time in a while I’ve had good wine.”

God, why is the rambling so fucking endearing?

Though I give off a jovial attitude all the time, I get impatient with people when they don’t get to the point.

With Ty, I don’t feel the urge to stop him from speaking. If nothing else tells me he’s mine, it’s that.

“To answer your question,” he continues after he takes another sip of his wine, “None of the bakeries were hiring here. I needed a job to pay the bills.”

“Do you want to work in one?” I swig some of my whiskey neat, enjoying the conversation. I usually only like talking to June and Blu for any length of time. This is new, and I love it. Well, if I can love anything.

Love isn’t an emotion I’ve ever felt. Obsession, though? I’m intimately familiar with that feeling.

“I want to own one.” His tone is guarded. “I’m young, but I can handle my own bakery. It wouldn’t be easy, but I’ve never been afraid of hard work, you know?”

“Yes, I do. That’s admirable. What would you name it?”

The relief is evident on his face, and my heart soars that I said the right thing.

“Sam said Tyshawn’s Delicious Creations, but that’s weird to name a bakery. I was thinking Tessa’s Bakery, after my mother. I don’t know, it would make me feel closer to her.”

Even though I nod, I have no idea what that kind of connection is like. My mom and dad were afraid of me as soon as I turned six and sent me away for the first time when I was eight. I’ve only seen my mother once in over twenty years, when my father was on his deathbed, and not since then.

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