The Tethered Soul of Easton Green: The Tethered Soul Series Book 1

by Laura C. Reden

“I have a date!” I shrugged and slipped my apron back on for the last ten minutes I had on my shift.

  “Like, a real one?” Lindsay’s face was lined with confusion.

  I cracked. My shoulders dropped, and my back slouched. “I don’t know!!! I don’t know!” my voice came out whiny and annoying. I was no better than a toddler throwing a fit for candy at the supermarket. There were so many feelings and lies; I couldn’t possibly keep track of them all. I didn’t know if it was a fake date or a real one—if we were friends or something more. And if it hadn’t been for the stupid kiss that I continued to lose my stomach over, I might just have a grasp on this thing. But as for right now, all I knew was that I looked hideous in dresses.

  “It’s OK!” Lindsay patted my arm. “Look, come over after work, and we’ll try on some dresses, OK?” Lindsay looked at her watch. “The next shift should be here any second.” And as soon as she said it, Amy walked in the door. “See?” Lindsay nodded, and I felt my panic begin to dissipate.

  I sat on Lindsay’s unmade bed while she rummaged through her closet. Clothes littered her floor, presumably dirty. Her cat took a liking to me today, but when it jumped onto my lap, all I could think about was its paws digging through its litter box. By the smell of it, the thing was nearby.

  “So, I have this one that might be a little too big for you in the boobs, but you can try it on.” She held out a teal satin dress that looked like the boobs were already inside. I nodded. This was going to be a disaster.

  “There’s this one that I wore to my sister-in-law's baby shower. It’s more forgiving in the chest because you can tighten the straps.” Lindsay threw a lacy floral dress on her bed. I nodded again, praying there was more.

  “Oh! And there’s this one, but it’s kind of boring.” She held a grey turtleneck T-shirt dress by her side. “And you have no idea what you’re going to be doing tonight?” she asked for the third time.

  “No! I have no freaking clue! It’s seriously stressing me out!” I placed my palm against my forehead. I jiggled my legs so the cat would jump off me. I couldn’t take the feces feet any longer.

  “Well, don’t do that, um . . .” Lindsay bit her lip, a habit she’d gotten from me. “I could . . . take a peek in my sister’s closet?”

  I sat straight up. “Really?” I asked with rising hope.

  “Yeah, I mean, she usually comes home on the weekends, but I don’t think she would notice. Here, I’ll see what I can find. Be right back!” Lindsay scurried out of her room, and I gave a sigh of relief. I studied her Blake Shelton posters on her wall while I waited.

  Lindsay was overly excited when she returned with what she thought was the perfect match. “Look what I found!” Lindsay shimmied her shoulders as she held out a baby blue slip dress. Simple, like me.

  “Yes! Oh my God, thank you!” I jumped up and took the dress from her.

  “Yeah, just bring it back soon, so I can pop it back in her closet, OK?” she asked.

  “Absolutely! Thank you!” I hugged her briefly before getting on my way.

  Chapter 9

  I jumped when Easton knocked on my door. Even Yeti was surprised. She leaped from her bed, bounded across the small living room, and raced to the front door, barking all the way. She was ferocious when she needed to be. I held her by the collar as I opened the door. Easton was handsome in his navy suit, his top two buttons undone. I caught his eye for a split second before Yeti’s strength overpowered mine; she pushed the door open and escaped from my grasp.

  Lucky for Easton, Yeti was full. But what surprised me more than her lack of aggression was the fact that she wagged her nub tail in excitement. Small whimpers escaped her as if seeing an old friend. I’d never seen her act like that.

  I watched Easton win the heart of Yeti in an instant, and I wondered if he’d done the same to me when I lost my stomach. I pushed away my nerves and called Yeti into the house.

  “Sorry!” I said, noting the smudge of slobber on Easton’s pants.

  “Don’t be. I love dogs. What’s his name?” Easton asked.

  “Her name is Yeti,” I said with my back to Easton as I locked my door.

  His proximity did weird things to my insides as I took in the smell of his woody, sensual cologne. I sucked in a quick and shallow breath of air when I spun around to find Easton much closer than I expected. I smiled nervously and tucked my hair behind my ear, trapped between him and my locked door.

  “You look beautiful tonight,” Easton said slow and calm.

  My heart pounded in my chest. A part of me couldn’t take the closeness and all of the emotions that came with it. Another, albeit a small part, wanted to see what would happen if we lingered like this a little while longer.

  Only after sensing my nervousness did he take a step back and say, “Welp, we better get a move on it! Can’t be late!” He walked to his car and opened the passenger’s door for me. It was when he pulled back that I saw what I truly wanted.

  So gentlemanly of him to open my door. This was a date then. It felt like a date. My eyes darted around the car, searching for the answers to my indecisiveness. I felt like a hamster on a wheel, running as fast as my legs could take me . . . in no particular direction and with no end in sight.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, my forehead still creased with my unsettled feelings.

  “I can’t tell you that. It would ruin the surprise!” Easton flashed a dimpled grin at me before setting the car in motion.

  A wave of excitement washed over me. I didn’t let it last long before I protested. Ruining my life's positivity was a bad habit—and one I wouldn’t have time to kick.

  “I don’t know why you’re doing this!” I shook my head, angry at the things I couldn’t control. Like this feeling like a date, even though it wasn’t, and my emotions being all over the place. Why didn’t I know what I wanted or how I felt? I pulled my dress down to my exposed knee. I feared he pitied me, even though he made it very clear the night before that he had not.

  Easton took a deep breath. “You can’t blame a guy for wanting to hang out with a pretty girl, can you?” He tried to diffuse my uprising frustration.

  I rolled my eyes. People had told me all my life that I was pretty, but I’d never believed it.

  Easton shook my shoulder. “Come on. We're going to have fun tonight. I need some fun,” he said.

  It was easier for me to think that he needed a distraction, so I went with it, allowing myself to try and believe it. When the image of him standing on the bridge crossed my mind again, I thought it might just be true. We were honest friends, after all.

  “So, what do you do for fun normally? You know, when you used to be happy,” I asked him and watched as his expression turned dark for a fraction of a second before changing to curiosity.

  “Used to be?” Easton’s eyes flickered from the road to me.

  I looked out the window to the plethora of passing trees. The forest floor blanketed in pine needles and fallen branches. The car wound around the mountainside in tranquility. He didn’t want to talk about it; that much was clear. I would have to find another way.

  “I mean, your hobbies. Like, I’m in school for graphic design because I love it. I like to take a picture and change it around until it feels balanced and your eye can’t help but move across the image in exploration. I’ve always loved art, ever since I was a kid . . . what’s the thing you do, or did, that makes you most happy?” I asked, wishing I was comfortable with the silence and didn’t feel the need to fill the air with the sound of my voice.

  “Well, it isn’t so much what makes me happy as who makes me happy.” Easton’s eyes flicked back to mine. “And right now, you’re making me happy,” he said.

  Warmth spread across my face, and I lifted my hand to my forehead, subconsciously to cool my blush.

  “You’re a sweet-talker, Easton Green!” I stifled a laugh, and he did too.

  “What!? It’s true!” he claimed.

  I shook my head, not believing a w
ord he said. “We’re just friends, and don’t you forget it!” I reminded him.

  Easton’s mouth opened wide in protest, then closed again before saying anything. He scrunched his face, “Well, friends make each other happy, right?”

  “Uh, huh.” I shook my head as a grin spread across my face.

  Our playful banter silenced when we crossed the New River Bridge. I looked out my window at the dusk lit bridge and decided not to bring up the night we met.

  “What do you do for a living?” I asked, surprised that I hadn’t thought to do before.

  “I’m . . . in construction,” Easton said as if he were uncertain how to explain it to me.

  I nodded and looked around his car. High-gloss wooden finish and camel colored leather, it still smelled new. It seemed too nice to come from a mountain construction salary. Far too expensive to be driving into a construction zone every day. My eyes lingered on his hands, and though they didn’t appear soft, they in no way resembled a man who worked with his hands. I looked from the absent calluses on his hands back to his eyes, where I detected his hesitation.

  “I’m in the sales department. I connect the job’s manager with the suppliers. It’s more social work than anything else,” Easton said as he furrowed his eyebrows.

  Though it made a lot more sense, something in the back of my head was telling me to be cautious. I rationalized with myself. It explained the scuff-free hands, and he was good with people. It made sense for him to be a salesman, and with what I saw at the diner, he could probably make enough extra money in commissions to afford the car.

  Though suspicious, I wasn’t worried. Easton was more of a puzzle than anything else. I almost preferred the chase. It gave me something to think about other than my illness. The whos and whys of Easton Green dwelled rent-free in my mind. Every omitted truth he told, I stole away to unwrap in thought, late into the night when I was home and alone. It would help keep the terrors away at a bare minimum.

  Easton was like my personal mystery novel. I read deep into the night, and I worked tirelessly, trying to find the missing pieces.

  I filled the silence by telling Easton the latest about my brother and his engagement. I told him about my parents and how my mom had two sisters that I adored when I was young, but I never saw them now. I told him about how we moved in the fourth grade and how making friends in a new school was easier than I imagined it would be. My mouth didn’t stop until we pulled into a packed parking lot forty-five minutes out of Clover. Our headlights illuminated a man and woman walking through the parking lot holding hands. I was relieved to find I wasn’t overdressed.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  Easton checked his watch and smiled. “Right on time, come on!” He jumped out of his car, ran around to my side, and opened the door for me.

  The brisk air rushed in, and a chill ran down my back, causing me to shiver involuntarily. I tucked my clutch under my arm. Easton reached out and rubbed my goosebumps to generate some heat, but his touch caused me to tremble more than before.

  “Here.” Easton stopped and took off his jacket.

  “No! No! You keep it,” I crossed my hands back and forth. He threw it over my shoulders anyway. His warmth that lingered inside the jacket now encapsulated me. I smiled at him. “Thank you.” I’d seen it happen in the movies, but at twenty-two years old, I had never had a boy offer me his jacket. It made me both happy and sad.

  Easton’s expression creased with uncertainty when he caught the eye of a man ushering his family through the parking lot. I looked between the two of them.

  “Do you know him?” I asked.

  Easton guffawed, “Nope!”

  The man seemed nice enough. He, too, was dressed in a suit, but unlike Easton, he wore a tie. He wrapped his hand around his little girl’s tiny wrist. Easton swallowed hard, keeping his eyes away from the man’s. We were all walking in the same direction, into the warmth of the . . . church? My eyes scanned for clues. The stained glass was a big one.

  “That’s the problem.” Easton’s gait began to slow. “I don’t know him.”

  The man held the door open for his family and then us. Easton thanked him before taking the load of the door himself. For a moment, I didn’t care where we were, as long as I could stay long enough to warm my limbs. But when the wedding march began to play, my heart skipped a beat. I froze. Easton grabbed my hand and pulled me through the double doors right as a bride rounded the corner.

  “Easton! No! Wait!” I hissed in protest. He continued to pull me until we were sitting in the last pew—several eyes on us as we made our awkward entrance.

  My heart pounded in my chest, and my mouth gaped open. Everyone rose at once. A bride, beaming from head to flawless toe, smiled at us as she walked past on the arm of her father. I threw my hand over my chest to capture my thumping heart and peered over my shoulder at Easton. His expression was that of excitement laced with anxiety.

  He leaned in, close to my ear. “Act natural,” he whispered, his warm breath tantalizing my ear.

  “What!? You don’t know these people?” I asked, looking around the room in fear.

  I was an imposter. And I felt it too. Surely, we would get caught. We took our seat with the rest of the audience as the ceremony started. My eyes were the size of softballs. Easton held in his laughter, though his body quaked. He raised a fist to his mouth to pretend he was holding in a cough. I smacked him with the back of my hand.

  “Are you being serious right now?” I bit my lip and tried not to catch the attention of those around us.

  “Shhh. You don’t want to get caught!” Easton said.

  I seethed. How dare I trust this guy I didn’t know! I didn’t actually want to crash a wedding! The last thing I wanted was to be put in such an uncomfortable situation. Dew began to form on the back of my neck. I gathered my hair to one shoulder and began to fan myself.

  Easton cleared his throat after a small outburst escaped his lips. A little girl with ebony skin and tight black curls turned around in her seat and watched us. If a five-year-old could tell we crashed the wedding, so would everyone else. I shrugged out of Easton’s jacket and wiped my clammy palms on my dress, the sweat staining the satin.

  As soon as the ceremony was over, I’d be darting to the parking lot.

  I shot Easton a look that could kill, but he was too busy crossing off “crash a wedding” on the Hunter’s to-go menu across his knee to see it. The realization that he was doing this for me and not to me dropped like a ton of bricks. He didn’t want to be here any more than I did, but here we were because I said I’d never crashed a wedding.

  When the groom recited his vows, my anxiety began to melt away. In the presence of love, I no longer had thoughts of fleeing to the car or wanting to kill Easton for bringing me here.

  “I promise to cherish you through thick and thin,” the groom said.

  I listened to his shaky voice and watched as their love was professed in front of their closest friends, family, and the two strangers who snuck into the back pews at the last minute.

  “I vow to be your guiding light when the night grows dark and your shoulder to lean on when life is too hard to handle on your own.” The groom glanced down at the small piece of paper in his hand.

  Easton placed his hand over mine. For reasons unbeknownst to me, I let it linger. His presence reminded me that I wasn’t alone. And as much as he needed to have fun tonight, I needed his hand on mine, to tell me it was going to be OK.

  When the ceremony ended, Easton pulled his hand back to his lap. The crowd broke out into small social gatherings. Many of the guests retreated straight to their cars. And a small line built in the hall next to the ladies’ restroom. I cradled Easton’s coat in my arms.

  “Thank you for bringing me. I thought you were crazy at first”—I let out a laugh—“but then I realized this was exactly what I needed.”

  Easton laughed, “I think I was more nervous than you! But I’m glad we stayed.” He smiled down at me.
“Think we can survive the reception?”

  “What!? No!” I said quickly.

  There was no way I was sitting with the bride and groom’s aunts and uncles and making up lies about how I knew them.

  “I couldn’t! Honestly! Don’t make me!” I shook my head in all seriousness.

  Crashing a wedding sounded fun, but I hadn’t considered how nervous I would feel over getting caught. And from the relief in Easton’s eyes, I could tell he felt the same way.

  Easton chuckled and took the jacket from my arms, proceeding to place it over my shoulders as we walked into the cold with the rest of the crowd. “Are you sure you don’t want to? We could stop and get dinner, then sneak back when everyone is toasted. You could even show me your dance moves. What do you say?” Easton asked, wagging his eyebrows.

  “Oh, uh-huh, thanks for the offer, but I’m going to have to pass on this one. Plus, we already crossed it off the list.” I shrugged apologetically. What was done, was done.

  “Oh, thank God!” Easton threw his head back and sighed. “That was giving me indigestion!” Easton laughed at himself with one hand on his stomach. He was cute, trying to be brave for me. I bit the inside of my cheek and tried to cloak my smile. I didn’t want to give him the wrong idea.

  “Are you hungry? I know of a great place about fifteen minutes from here. It’s on the way home too,” Easton said as he opened my door.

  “A bite to eat never hurt anybody.” I tried to sound nonchalant as I crawled into the car. But the truth was, I was taken aback by the selfless gesture he made by taking me to crash a wedding forty-five minutes out of town. And I wanted more of his time.

  Chapter 10

  The dive bar Easton took me to wasn’t what I was expecting when he asked me to dinner. We were overdressed, and frankly, I was out of my element. The bar and the wedding alike.

  A bum lay outside of the bar. His clothes were tarnished with filth and so was his face. I subconsciously walked to Easton's other side, positioning myself as far away from the man as possible. But it wouldn’t be this easy.