A/N: I apologize for the super long wait, but I am here to say it has not been abandoned! And I promise this chapter is well worth the wait! Thank you to everyone who has been patiently waiting for this! I hope y'all enjoy it as much as I did writing it! Reviews are very much appreciated as well!
Private Concerts & Rebel Phases
There were a few things Maka had learned from watching The Bachelor all these years.
She knew there were people out there who tuned into the show for the drama and cat fights between the girls while also being tied up in the romance (however non-existent and unreal it might be). Others, like herself, tended to gravitate toward the show for escapism and pretend there were people out there whose lives were more pathetic than her own. Even with the knowledge of how many engagements and marriages had failed after the cameras stopped rolling, The Bachelor was a nice way for people to still believe in something.
Reality shows, ironically, were a nice stress reliever from reality. Maka understood that.
Except, the last thing she had expected was for herself to be thrown onto the television program and into a world she never thought she would be a part of and forget the main driving force of the show. The force that kept people tuning into the show and on their toes throughout the season. The force that had nothing to do with the romance or how much of a douche bag that year's bachelor was or the lavish trips the girls went on. Those were all perks of the show. Nothing more.
The true driving force of the show was the drama which Maka had thankfully been able to avoid so far, but she should have known it wouldn't last. Especially when she considered the note Soul had left for her and not the others.
"Must be a special rose if you brought it back with you," Blair commented as she slid off her heels and massaged her feet.
Subconsciously, Maka pulled the flower to her chest as if she could keep it hidden. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I think you know perfectly well what I'm talking about," Blair teased lightly. "Don't think for a second I didn't see you pull something out of your rose at the ceremony. I'm sure the cameras caught it, too."
Maka bided her time from responding by occupying herself with removing the pins from the updo the stylists had put her in for the night and sighing at the relief of pain from having them in for so long. She was definitely going to need to shower before bed tonight given how much hairspray was in her hair, but she didn't mind at all. Especially if it meant she could avoid Blair's taunts and teasing over the note from Soul since she had apparently seen Maka read it. It hadn't occurred to her how public the rose ceremony was or how many eyes would be on her during the ordeal; she had been in her own world.
Vaguely, she wondered if anyone else had seen.
"So, are you going to tell me or not?" Blair crooned.
"It was nothing."
"I thought we were friends, Maka. Friends don't keep secrets from their friends."
Glancing over her shoulder, Maka saw the woman giving her puppy eyes with a small pout reminiscent of a child who wanted one last story before bedtime. Or a particularly curious woman who wanted to toy with Maka's emotions and have her cave in. Unfortunate for Blair, Maka wasn't one to give up so easily especially when it came to matters such as this.
"I'm not keeping any secrets from you because it's really nothing."
Blair's puppy eyes deepened, and she blinked a few times until her eyes were glistening. For a brief moment, Maka almost gave in because out of all the girls in the house, the older woman was the only she truly trusted. She was also probably one of the only girls who wouldn't cause drama over the note or the kiss if Maka were to confide in her, and, truth be told, a small part of her did want to tell someone about what had happened. With Liz not being on the show and her cellphone gone, Maka had zero contact with the usual people she talked to about boy problems and matters of the heart.
Not to mention she had tortured herself all last week over Soul and the cheek kiss debacle considering how long she had stayed in her head about the matter. If she had talked to someone about it, she probably would have figured out Soul wasn't bothered by it or that he had liked it. And out of all the girls on the show, Blair seemed to know how to read people the best. She could have eased Maka's worries had she only confided in her beforehand.
If she was going to trust anyone in the house, it would be Blair.
"I kissed Soul," Maka said, her voice barely above a whisper.
She expected the small gasp of surprise from Blair, but not a second voice.
"You did what?"
Whirling around, Maka found Meredith and Nicole both standing in the doorway of the bedroom with identical expressions of shock on their faces. It was the flash of anger in the dark haired girl's gaze, though, that twisted Maka's gut in fear.
"You forced yourself onto Soul?" Meredith continued.
"I didn't," Maka quickly defended. "It was an accident."
Meredith's gaze thinned in doubt, but it was Nicole who spoke.
"Seeing as Soul had made it perfectly clear in the beginning he wasn't going to kiss anyone, I'd say you're lying." A pause. "At least when it comes to both parties."
There was enough distaste in the words for Maka's stomach to lurch at the insinuation, but anger burned in her veins as she glared at the woman. Neither Nicole nor Meredith knew what kind of person Maka was outside of the show. To make such a bold statement about her was ridiculous for both of them.
"I didn't force myself onto Soul," Maka spat. "We had a moment after one of our dates, and I kissed him. It was an accident."
"In case either of you haven't noticed," Blair added, "Maka isn't the type of girl to throw herself onto a guy without his consent. She has some class unlike other girls on the show."
"That's rich seeing as you're one of the girls you're talking about," Meredith bit out. Blair flinched slightly, but her scowl never faltered. "Don't think I haven't seen you flirting with Soul and his brother. Or practically throw your tits on any boy who walks by. You're no better than the rest of us."
While none of it was a lie, it was still a low blow.
Before Maka could defend her friend, Blair stood from the bed and crossed her arms in front of her. Her back was towards Maka, but she didn't need to see the woman's face to know her expression. It was clear enough Blair's usually sweet disposition had dissolved by the flash of terror in Nicole and Meredith's eyes. Blair's voice also sounded malicious when she spoke.
"I don't care what you have to say about me, but I won't allow you to degrade my friend into someone who's only here to get attention like the rest of us. She said she didn't force herself onto Soul, and I believe her because she isn't like that."
Feeling the conversation over, Blair pivoted towards Maka as her arms feel to her side.
"Come on, kitten. Let's go somewhere a little more private." She placed her hand on Maka's back and gently pushed her toward the door. Before they left completely, though, she added, "Soul is a grown ass man who is fully capable of making his own decisions about things and can kiss anyone he wants. It isn't Maka's fault he kissed her instead of you two," over her shoulder.
Once they were out of earshot of the other two girls, Maka finally clarified, "Thank you for defending me, but he didn't kiss me back. I didn't even kiss him on the mouth. It was his cheek."
"Those are minor details neither Nicole nor Meredith need to know about," Blair waved off. "All they need to know is that a kiss happened so they can be pissed off about it."
Still, Maka felt she should have given the other two girls more details than she had. Nicole and Meredith weren't exactly the type of girls on reality TV to let things go and focus on themselves. In the back of her mind, Maka knew the conversation with the two was going to end up causing drama for herself, but she had Blair as well.
So long as Blair was on the show, she could easily handle stupid cat fights with the girls.
When they were down in the kitchen, Blair guided Maka to one of the chairs in the dining room before checking to see if anyone else was around and sat down in front of her. A wide, cheshire smile spread across her face as she spoke.
"Now that we're alone, I want to know all of the details. Every last one of them," she said, emphasizing every word.
"Technically we're never alone." Maka glanced to a camera sitting on the top shelf in the kitchen, the lens watching the girls like a protective older brother. "It's the curse of being on a reality TV show."
"Stop stalling and tell me about you and Soul," Blair waved off. "I don't care about the stupid cameras or whoever's listening on the other end of them. Your two biggest threats are nowhere around us, so we can talk about your love life freely."
Heat blossomed along Maka's cheeks as she quickly said, "It's not love."
The corner of Blair's mouth tucked up into a half smirk as if saying Maka were only fooling herself which might be true, but Maka was also certain what she felt for Soul wasn't love.
"I've only known him for seven weeks, Blair," Maka huffed. "You can't fall in love with someone in that shot a time frame."
"Ever heard of love at first sight?"
"The first thing I ever did to Soul after meeting him was dump wine on him. I wouldn't exactly call that love at first sight."
Blair shrugged. "Maybe it's infatuation on Soul's part?"
"If my dumping wine on him is what made him interested in me, I'd question his sanity because anyone - man or woman - would walk away from someone like that. It doesn't exactly scream 'I wanna date you'."
"Maybe he liked it because it showed you were different compared to the other girls. He wasn't exactly Prince Charming to any of us during the first couple weeks, but we all stood by and took it. You're the only one who did something about him being an asshole."
Maka opened her mouth to retort, but realized she had nothing to say on the matter.
It was true.
She had been the only one to do something about Soul being an asshole that first night. She had also been the only one to see through his act the following week. Whatever Soul had seen in her after the first couple weeks had kept her on the show, and Soul continuously gave her a rose week after week. Of course, he didn't need to save her for last every time, but he still chose to keep her. Even after their rocky start and the accidental cheek kiss, she was still on the show.
Warmth spread over her chest at the thought, a small smile slowly gracing her face. She hated herself for feeling this way, for allowing a man to make her feel this way, but at the same time she didn't. There was something different about Soul compared to other men she knew in her life.
Maybe she was indeed falling for him.
"So," Blair started, pulling Maka away from her thoughts, "tell me about this accidental cheek kiss."
A couple days later, it took everything within Maka not to scream bloody murder as a pair of dark green eyes staring down at her when she awoke.
"Please don't scream," said a hoarse, quiet voice. "I come in peace."
Maka blinked and rubbed her eyes in the hopes she was dreaming, but when she opened them again, the green eyes were still there. He tilted his head and grinned down at her, drawing her attention to the bright blue hair poking from under his bandana to alert her of who the stranger was.
"Blake?"
"I sure hope Soul knows what he's gettin' into. You're not very pretty first thing in the mornin'."
"What the hell are you doing here? In my bed?" Maka half-growled, being sure to keep her voice down so she didn't wake any of the other girls.
"Well, good mornin' to you too, sunshine. Not only do you have bad mornin' breath, but you're grouchy too. Should warn Soul 'bout that too."
"Everyone has bad morning breath when they just wake up." Maka shoved Blake away from her who stumbled a bit before catching his balance again.
"You got some strength. That's good. We can use that 'round the farm," Blake said as he dusted himself off.
"Quit with the pleasantries and tell me why you're even here?" Turning bleary eyes toward the alarm clock in the room, she checked the time. "At six in the morning."
Blake's grin widened as he rummaged through his pants pocket and pulled out a note. "I'm here on official business. Soul wanted me to give you this myself."
He handed the letter, eyes sparkling as he did so, and Maka wondered what game Soul was playing. First, it was the note in her rose. Now, Blake was committing breaking and entering to give her another one. She might need to talk to Soul about the way he did things on the farm because she didn't think this kind of blatant special treatment was going to fare well with the other girls. Especially with Nicole and Meredith after the confrontation a few nights ago.
Unraveling the note, Maka read over Soul's chicken handwriting.
Meet me in the foyer of the main house before our date, the note read.
"Not sure what kinda hold you got on my bromigo, but you better take care of him," Blake said. He reached up and grabbed at thin air like it was the brim of his hat and bowed. "You seem like a nice lady, though, so you have my blessin'. Be seein' you later."
She didn't have the chance to respond as Blake strolled out the door.
Once he was gone, Maka glanced down at the note and smiled. Warmth spread over her chest like a cool iron despite her ill wishes for it not to, and a burst of excitement settled in the pit of her stomach. She didn't know what Soul had planned for tonight or why he wanted to meet in the main house, but she was touched by the note either way. Especially if this was going to be their new way of communicating.
Heart hammering and nerves buzzing, Maka stood in the foyer waiting for Soul to arrive.
She smoothed out the invisible wrinkles on the skirt of her baby blue dress for what felt like the thousandth time since arriving. Every passing second seemed to draw out for hours as anxiety and worry began to work itself into her bloodstream and throughout her body. Based on the gossip she heard from the girls, Soul had been on time for his date with them which consisted of fancy dinners and trips to an orchestra or play. Anything the show producers thought would appeal to the romanticism for audiences especially this late in the game.
Except, ten minutes into her date with Soul, and he was a no show.
The worst played out in her head as she waited for him or anyone, really, to come out and tell her what was going on. Maybe this was Soul's way of telling her she was eliminated. Maybe Marie would come out any minute and inform her she was heading home and the reason she was dressed up was so they could play up the trauma of being sent home before a rose ceremony. Eliminations without a rose ceremony weren't uncommon on the show. Sometimes the bachelor for the season grew tired of a girl and knew right away she wasn't the one.
But even as dread bubbled up the pit of her stomach at the potential thought of being toyed with the last few days, her heart told her a different story.
Especially when she considered the notes and what Blair had told her…
A door opening drew Maka out of her thoughts, and she turned in the direction of the sound. Her heart warmed at the sight of Soul, disgruntled face and all, as she tried to fight back a smile.
His attire for the date was different compared to what she was used to. It was cleaner than normal; no mud stains in sight or any sign he had been working on the ranch. Instead, he had on a deep, burgundy button down shirt with a nice pair of jeans, but the most surprising change was the lack of his signature cowboy hat. She hadn't realized how white and messy his hair was even with the addition of a headband to hold it in place. The look suited him, though.
Soul's gaze lifted from where it was focused on the ground halfway to her, and he halted. The disgruntled expression from before evaporated into one of shock as he stared at her. Maka's heart stumbled for a new reason as worry about something being off from her appearance flooded her mind.
"Is something wrong?" Maka asked after several seconds of silence.
Light pink dusted Soul's cheeks as he pulled his gaze away from her, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck as he said, "No. Everything's fine. You, um… You look good."
It was Maka's turn to blush.
To cover it up, she quickly said, "You clean up nicely yourself."
He tugged on the collar of his shirt like he was uncomfortable, but the way his blush darkened told another story and pride welled in Maka.
"Uh, thanks. My brother made me wear it." Something about his tone told her it was lie. "You ready for our date?"
"Yeah," Maka nodded. She glanced around the room expecting The Bachelor crew had entered the foyer during their conversation, but it was still as barren as it had been before. "Should we wait for the cameras to get here? I'm sure they'd want to film this."
Unless there were some hidden in the main house. Maka doubted it, though. If memory served her correctly, rumor was Evelyn had forbid the show from placing any in the house unless it was for a date.
"I-" He rubbed the back of his neck and averted his gaze away from her. The toe of his boot scuffed against the hardwood floor, his face falling contemplative. When he spoke, his voice was soft. "I kinda asked them if they could not film this first part."
She blinked. "Why?"
"There's something I wanted to show you… privately."
Maka went to push for more details, but thought better of it as she offered him her hand.
"Lead the way then."
The edge of his mouth twitched slightly before he wrapped calloused hands around her smooth ones and led her out of the foyer. Her throat tightened at the contact, her stomach twisting into a knot, while warmth filled her lower abdomen. She hated the way he made her feel - remembered a time when she swore to herself she'd never fall for a man - but the voice in her head told her this was different. Yes, Soul was dating multiple women at one time. Yes, it was close to cheating. However, it couldn't be classified as the same way her papa acted when he was married. Not when the man so obviously treated her like she was special compared to the other girls.
They stopped outside a door in the hallway, and Soul released her hand to place it on the knob. His hesitation, though, didn't go unnoticed by her as he rubbed a thumb along it and sighed. Anxiety buzzed off Soul's body as they stood there. Each passing second feeling like it took longer than the last before Maka finally stepped forward and touched his elbow, startling him from his reverie.
"You okay?" she asked, ignoring the burst of heat tingling her fingertips.
"Yea. It's just…"
He trailed off. His hand still on the doorknob, he glanced over his shoulder to look at her, his wine stained eyes darker than she remembered.
"I haven't shown anyone else here what about to show you. I'd appreciate it if you kept this between us," he simply said.
It wasn't what she expected, but she nodded. "If that's what you want, sure. I'll keep your secret." Feeling the tension still stale in the air around, she added, "You're not about to show me some kind of sex dungeon or that the Evans family is full of cannibals, are you?"
A small smile ghosted Soul's face as he laughed. "No. It's neither of those."
"I'm a little disappointed," she shrugged. "I was hoping the Evans family were sex demons or something. It'd make this season of The Bachelor an interesting one."
"Really?" he asked, his tone confused.
"No. I'm joking."
"Ah, right. Shoulda figured that out."
Soul turned back toward the door and glared at it like it was an omen. Small wrinkles creased his forehead, his mouth in a slight frown, but, as quickly as it had appeared, his face relaxed. Soul sighed, and allowed the door to swing open, standing aside to allow Maka to enter first. She was slightly surprised what she saw inside; not at all what she had expected.
The room was painted a soft, pale green with small yellow flowers painted near the ceiling to give the walls a warm, summer's day feel. Sunlight streaming in through the single window accentuated the vibe the painter wanted to give, the horses grazing in the pasture beyond enhancing it. It was breathtaking and beautiful, but the most surprising aspect of the room was the onyx grand piano sitting in front of the window. Though charming against the contrast of the room, it felt out of place. Like it didn't belong on a ranch or to a family who was the picturesque version of country.
"A piano? This is your big secret?" Maka asked, turning to look at Soul who still stood in the doorway.
He bashfully rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. "Yea."
"Do you know how play?"
"Yea," he said again.
"Where does a country boy learn to play the piano? Isn't that a little too sophisticated for you?" The moment the words were out of her mouth, she realized how rude they sounded and wished to take them back. Before Soul had the chance to look stunned, Maka quickly said, "I didn't mean to sound so mean! I'm just surprised that someone like you knows how to play the piano. I never really pictured someone who lives in the middle of nowhere to be-"
"So cultured?" Soul supplied with a small smile, not at all angry. "You'd be surprised to know we aren't the typical country folk you see on TV."
Maka's face heated. "I'm sorry I assumed it."
"Don't be," he said, closing the door behind him. "Most people don't expect me to know how to play let alone own a piano." His shrug was half-hearted. "I'm used to it."
Something in Maka raged at the idea of her falling under the category of people who assumed he was a simpleton and couldn't be anything else. She should have known he was anything but a stereotypical stable boy. The music on his iPod was enough for her to realize Soul knew a thing or two about classical music. For her to assume he didn't know anything else was idiotic on her part.
"I'm sorry," she sighed. "I didn't mean to make an assumption and criticize your intelligence. That was really shitty of me."
"Don't be. I'm used to it."
"You shouldn't be, though. Anyone who assumes you're dumb and don't know a thing about music should be ashamed of themselves." She gave him a small smile. "First impressions are always a lie, anyways. I learned that the first night here."
His eyes seemed to dance as he stared at her, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.
"Wes and I actually get a kick outta people's reaction when they find out two country boys can play classical music," he said, stepping further into the room and stuffing his hands in his pockets.
"Wes plays too?"
"Not the piano, though. He's more of a violin man."
"And you're the piano man?" she teased.
He laughed, warm and rich. "Someone's been listening to more of my music."
"I've been enjoying Billy Joel, yes."
A small pause fell between them. They stood, staring at each other, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was nice and pleasant like the sun warming your skin during July.
"Are you going to play me a song?" Maka asked after awhile.
"Uh, yea," Soul said, his head shaking slightly as if he were in a daze. "'Course."
He gestured toward the piano for Maka to sit on the bench first, the epitome of a gentleman, and took to the other side once she was settled. As he sat there, she noted his posture and how pristine and proper it was, not a hint of the slouch she had grown used to over the weeks. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbow and flicked his wrists before positioning them over the keys. Though subtle, she noticed how they gently caressed the ivory like he was greeting an old friend, an old lover; the way he slid his middle fingers down one of the darker ones.
It was the way his body stiffened, though, that alerted her to a fact that went beyond the piano. The way he seemed to clam up, hesitate. His gaze darkened as he stared down at the piano, and his fingers twitched slightly. She didn't have to ask to know he had left her and gone somewhere else. Somewhere she couldn't follow.
Placing her hand gently on his forearm, Maka waited for his carmine gaze to meet hers and smiled.
"If it helps, I'm excited to hear you play," she said.
Her words seemed to help alleviate whatever anxieties he had, his eyes softening and shoulders relaxing, and he returned his attention back to the piano.
Fingers splayed over the correct keys, he exhaled, she inhaled.
The first note of the song was discordant, the sound shaking through Maka from her chest to her core, but she didn't flinch as his hands danced over the ivory keys. They moved far too fast for her to focus on them, her mind unable to catch up, but it didn't matter. She found herself being swallowed by the music as she listened to the haunting tune he played; one that spoke of sorrow and disappear. A broken person who had been tormented by demons a majority of their life only to be rescued by a sweet savior of light and wings.
She couldn't quite grasp the entire story behind the song - if there even was one - but it spoke to her heart nonetheless. Left her heart heavy and her stomach twisted.
Giving a quick glance to Soul, she noted how he appeared to be in his element with each press of an ivory key. There were no music sheets sitting in front of him or anything to even hint at what note came next. He performed purely by heart, and Maka wondered if it was because he himself had written it. The look in his crimson gaze, wide-eyed and glossed over, was one she knew far too well. It was the same one she used to get when she poured her heart into her poems. Back when she scorned the man in her life for his actions and gave up on ever finding a love similar to the one between her parents.
One she had realized was empty.
Soul's heavy breathing filling the room drew Maka out of her thoughts. She hesitated for a moment, debating on whether or not to clap, but then he started again.
A softer tune than before sang from the piano. Light and gentle like angel wings. Calming.
Though the change of pace was jarring, Maka felt the notes wrap around her soul and connect it with her heart. She felt the tender touch of a mother who loved her child as she rescued him from the demons of the last song. The warm embrace she gave her child as she crooned how much she cared and supported him. It was the tears stinging her eyes and the goosebumps along her skin that sent a shiver down her spine; the way her stomach swirled and burned with a mild heat. They were both so familiar like she had heard the song before.
Maka spared a look toward Soul and noticed the way his gaze had cooled during the second song. So different from how he had looked during the previous one. It was serene and loving. She vaguely toyed with the idea of how Soul had written the two songs, at what point in his life had their stories occurred, and if it had anything to do with why he wanted the piano concert to be private.
Once the song ended, Maka released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding and waited.
It must have taken Soul some time to recuperate and remember his surroundings as he ghosted the tips of his fingers across the keys. She gave him a minute before reaching out and touching his hand. He slowly left the trance he had been in and met her gaze. Sweat dripped down his bangs and forehead, his cheeks flushed from the performance. His breathing was the only sound in the room. Maka's eyes dropped to his mouth before darting back up and she swallowed.
"That was beautiful," she whispered.
His eyes widened slightly before darting to the piano. For a second, she thought his cheeks might have turned a brighter red.
"You really think so?"
"I may have shit taste in music, as you so lovingly said before-" Soul smirked "-but I do know good music when I hear it."
An image of his iPod flashed in her mind, and she quickly connected why the song was so familiar.
"Are you the one playing that song on your iPod?" she blurted.
He snorted. "Can't believe it took that long to realize it."
"You never told me you played piano or that it was even you, so how was I supposed to know?" she quipped, a small flare of anger burning within her. "Don't act like I should've been smart enough to figure out any of that."
Soul flinched and scratched the underside of his chin. "Ah, yea. Sorry. It's habit. I…" He trailed off and licked his lips. "Thank you for the compliment you gave my music back then on our date. I 'preciated it."
She felt her cheeks warm at the memory, but ignored it as she said, "You're welcome."
Maka waited for her blush to dissipate before speaking again.
"I still mean it, too. The compliment I gave you back then," she clarified at his confused look. "Your music is really beautiful. Haunting and a little sad, but I still like it.
The corner of his mouth twitched. "You might be the only one other than Wes that does."
"That can't be true." Maka's brows furrowed. "There have to be others."
"Trust me, I know. I've performed enough to know what everyone thinks of me in the music industry. Why do you think I didn't want 'em filmin' this? I might be a country boy, but I ain't stupid." He waited for his frustration to subside before sighing and running a hand through his hair. "But it really means alot to me you like it. Even if you do have shit taste in music."
Her mouth curled into a frown as she playfully punched him in the shoulder.
"I'm kiddin', Maka!" he said, rubbing the spot. "Geeze, chill with the violence, will ya?"
"Maybe if you didn't tease me all the time, I wouldn't have to hit you so often," she said, sticking her tongue out when she finished.
"You're a child in a grown ass woman's body, you know that? You sure you didn't lie about your age to et on the show?"
"Soul," she growled in warning.
"Kiddin'," he said, putting his hands up defensively.
Straightening, Maka smiled.
For the first time since sitting on the bench, Maka realized how close they were. Some time between his playing and their light banter, they had subconsciously scooted nearer to each other, or maybe it had been her. Her heart clenched at the warmth of his shoulder touching hers, and her throat tightened at the same time. She suddenly became aware of every movement her mind made, every breath exhaling from her body to mingle with his own, and the faint scent of mint wafting in the air between them. Soul must have noticed it too because his eyes widened slightly, but neither of them moved.
They stared at each other. Maka's heart pounding in her chest as she calculated the little distance between them, how close she was to his lips. Anticipation and want burned in the pit of her abdomen. Her mind toyed with the idea of what his mouth would feel like against her own, how rejuvenating it would be to feel his lips slant to mold against hers, how soft they would be. If he'd be a good kisser at all.
It was absurd of her to wonder such things, but maybe it was also natural. She liked Soul, really liked him. Liked him more than any of her previous boyfriends. So the thought of tasting him, feeling him, wasn't really that absurd. Not really.
All she had to do was lean forward.
All he had to do was lean forward.
Maka quietly exhaled when she felt his forehead press against hers. She reluctantly lifted her gaze to meet his, swallowing down the emotions swelling inside her as she stared into dark wine colored eyes. A sorrow she couldn't quite place etched beneath, but the regret she wished wasn't there was clear as a bright, sunny day.
She knew what he was going to say before he said it, but his words still stung.
"I'm not supposed to kiss anyone durin' the show," he whispered.
"I know."
A few minutes rolled by as they sat there staring at each other. It was tempting to press her lips against his and break the promise he had made the first night, but Maka restrained herself. If he didn't want to kiss her, she would respect that.
Before anything could happen between them, Maka stood up off the bench and smoothed out the skirt of her dress. Maybe it knocked her down a few pegs on the braveness scale for doing so, but she didn't care. There might be something stirring inside her, some emotion she thought she wasn't capable of, but it didn't mean anything. She was still scared of everything kissing Soul would lead to. Scared of the heartbreak and the pain. Kissing only led to terrible things. Love led to terrible things.
She knew that better than anyone.
Giving her best, most sincere we totally weren't about to kiss smile, she turned and said, "Are we going out to dinner now?"
Something flashed behind Soul's eyes she couldn't put her finger on as they hardened over, and the stoic man she had grown to know over the show overtook him once again. It broke her to know the front he put on when the cameras were around, to know he was preparing to close him up to her and conceal the emotions he let hang from his sleeve so easily. Sometimes she wished he could always be the same Soul she saw during their private moments. The one whose smile met his gaze.
"Guess we should go out there." He stood from the bench and dusted off his jeans. His face scrunched as he tugged at his shirt. "Maybe I should change? I kinda smell like sweat."
"I think you smell fine," she waved off. "Just put some cologne on, and you're good to go."
He smirked. "If you're fine bein' with someone who smells, guess I'm good then."
"You work on a ranch, Soul. In case you haven't noticed, you always kinda smell like animals when I'm around you."
The twinkle in his eyes caused her heart to perform backflips.
"Shall we get goin' then?" he asked, offering her his hand.
It was such a small gesture, but she found herself breathless as she slid her hand in his and he led them out of the room, down the hall, and into the foyer.
Her lower abdomen clenched when he still held her hand as they walked out of the house and into the snake pit of cameras waiting to capture their departure. It was made worse when he intertwined his fingers with hers, noting how well they molded together. His calloused thumb rubbed against hers as they walked with no sign of worry or fear of who might be watching or paying attention to them. Maka's heart fluttered as he opened the door to the truck and helped her inside.
Sitting in the passenger seat, she stared down at her lap with a soft smile as she waited for Soul to enter the other side. She hated the emotions stirring within her, filling every bit of her body, because she had promised herself a long time ago she wouldn't allow herself to fall in love. Then Soul came around, and now she was falling for him every step along the way.
Stupid cowboy.
To her surprise, the restaurant they were going to wasn't in the small town thirty minutes away from the Evans ranch. It took them well over an hour to arrive to their destination. Thankfully the ride wasn't boring or dull to her like most car rides - she rarely enjoyed driving anywhere for a long period of time. Rather, she found it to be quite peaceful. Soul had played a nice selection of music, and the silence between them had been comfortable. It also helped when he held her hand over the console, his thumb rubbing circles against her palm, to distract her from the empty roads they drove on.
Even now, standing to the side while Soul spoke to the host, her hand still burned with the imprint of his own.
The restaurant they were at was practically vacant as if The Bachelor show had bought it out for the night - possibly the week - so they could film in peace. Only a handful the tables were filled with patrons conversing and dining on their meal, completely oblivious to the cameras at the front door. Or perhaps they didn't care they were being recorded for a televised program. Or maybe they were paid actors to make the restaurant appear to be in normal working order as if it were any other day.
Snippets of Soul's conversation with the host drifted in her direction, and she was shocked at how formal and precise he was as he spoke. It reminded her of the Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice spoke; an air of aristocracy in his tone like he had done this countless times before. The complete opposite of the Soul she had come to know over the weeks, but, given the piano performance earlier, it did fit that version of Soul. The version of a boy who had been raised in riches and private parties and owned a suit for every type of event.
Still, it didn't fit the Soul she knew.
Least, not when he wore a cowboy hat, boots, and Wrangler jeans with a lasso in one hand and saddle in the other.
After a few minutes, Soul nodded and shook the host's hand before walking to join her. He rubbed his palms off on his jeans like he were removing scum off it, but his smile was charming nonetheless. She would have liked nothing more than to kiss it off him.
"They're gettin' our table ready. We'll be in one o' the private rooms 'cause of these guys," he nodded to the camera crew nearby. "Hope that's okay."
"I figured," she said with a shrug.
The sound of a camera lens zooming in and out alerted her to the filming going on behind her, and her hands instantly went to smooth out her dress.
"You look fine," Soul whispered. "You don't have to keep doin' that." His gaze lifted to her bangs, and his mouth twitched. "'Cept your hair is kinda outta place. Here."
Her heart stumbled, breath catching in her throat, as he reached up to adjust her hair. The brush of his fingers against her set her skin aflame, and she internally swore at the emotions stirring within her. How her body craved more of his touch.
"Now you look beautiful," he quietly said. Pink bloomed on his cheeks, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets as if to draw his attention away from it. "I should mention Wes'll be joinin' us."
Maka nodded. Behind Soul, the host grabbed some menus from the stand and walked toward them to presumably take them to their table.
She met Soul's gaze and said, "May I ask why?"
"Part o' the whole meetin' the family thing," he shrugged.
"Your table is ready," the host said when he reached them. "If you can please follow me."
They followed the host to the back of the restaurant, ignoring the stares from the other patrons as they passed, and into a room secluded from the rest of the restaurant. The cameramen positioned themselves in spots they deemed were perfect to capture the couple and Wes on their date once they were in the room. Maka's heart fluttered as Soul pulled her chair out and gestured for her to sit down first. She gave him a thankful smile, noticing the cameraman nearest them filming the moment. It was a struggle not to glare at him for ruining the moment, but she managed.
She flipped through her menu as Soul gave asked the waiter for a bottle of white wine - didier dagueneau silex, to be exact - and realized she knew nothing on the menu. It was all written in French. Even when she had took classes in high school for the language, she hadn't picked up a lick of it outside of parlez-vous francais and escargot.
Once the waiter left, Maka lifted her gaze to Soul and smirked. "Are you trying to impress me or something?"
His brows knitted together. "Huh?"
"You ordered the one of the most expensive wines they probably have, and everything on the menu is in French. And from what I've gathered since coming here," she remembered the country club he had taken her to a couple weeks ago and prayed he did as well, "this isn't a typical date for you. Everything about tonight, really. It's almost like you're trying to impress me."
Soul raised his hand to his mouth, but she caught the lop-sided smile before he could wipe it away.
"Maybe I am trying to impress you," he said, his tone and diction reverting back to the more sophisticated one he used when the cameras were rolling.
It was interesting how easily he turned it on and off, and, not for the first time, she wondered how often he used the same trick. How often he had to play the son who had been brought up in a mansion with butlers and maids rather than the one who lived on a ranch with only a few workers. How often he had to pretend he didn't get down and dirty or felt more at home on the back of a horse than he did in a suit. Given everything he had shown her thus far, she deduced it must have been fairly often.
There weren't many country boys who knew their way around fine wine and played piano.
At least, that's what she assumed; maybe there were more ranchers out there like Soul.
After one last attempt at reading the menu, she found the task to be unsuccessful and set it down on the table. Heat rose to her cheeks as she admitted, "I can't read French."
Crimson darted toward her and back down. "Would you like me to order for you?"
Maka blinked. "You can read French?" The shy look he gave her was answer enough. "I really shouldn't be so surprised. So long as you don't order me snails or frog legs or anything with seafood on it, please do."
"Don't worry. It'll be something good," he promised, and it helped ease her nerves slightly. Soul checked his watch and grumbled, "Where is this guy? I thought he was gonna be here before us."
"Wes?"
"Mm, yeah. He wouldn't shut up about this date last night. Surprised he hadn't gotten here the moment they opened."
"Maybe he's running late," she said, ignoring the embarrassment flushing her cheeks. As she took a sip of the water the waiter had brought, a thought crossed her mind and she asked, "So since I've already met your mom and now your brother, does that mean I'll be meeting your dad soon? If I make it passed the rose ceremony of course."
Soul's face darkened at the mention of his father, and Maka's stomach twisted into a knot. She couldn't pinpoint the reason for the sudden dread of bringing up the man or the fear of she had changed the tone of conversation for the worst as Soul's eyes unfocused and his mouth turned into a scowl. Whatever story there was behind his dad that could provoke such a change of emotion in Soul, she didn't like it.
She didn't have much time to dwell on it, though, for as quickly as Soul's demeanor had changed, it reverted back to the one she was familiar with.
"You won't be meeting," Soul said, his voice dull despite the normalcy of his body language. "Not ever."
Maka opened her mouth to ask why, but Wes appeared.
"There y'all are!" he said in a cheerful, deep southern accent. "Been lookin' all over the damned place for y'all."
Wes sat in the empty chair between her and Soul. He was dressed in a similar attire as Soul: button down shirt tucked in jeans and boots and minus the cowboy hat. The only difference was the way his hair had been slicked back with gel to get the clean and sophisticated look as opposed to Soul's messy hair sticking up in whichever way.
"Nice to meet you, too," Maka said.
"Took you long enough to get here," Soul mumbled.
"Traffic was bad gettin' into the city," Wes directed toward him. He poured himself a glass of the wine, swirled it around, and tasted it before spitting it back into the glass. "You must've taken the backroads or somethin' since y'all got here so fast."
"Maybe if you had left earlier, you would've been on time."
"This wine's good," Wes commented, ignoring his brother.
"For the price, it better be."
"Pa'd be so proud o' ya if he could see ya now."
The younger Evans brother's eyes darted toward Maka, and he coughed to grab his brother's attention. She caught the quick dart of his gaze back in her direction as he silently reminded Wes of her presence, a language formed between two people who had known each other all their lives. It didn't take Wes more than a second to understand what his brother was trying to tell him as he curtly nodded, smiled, and offered her his hand.
"Sorry 'bout that. You'd think I wa raised in a barn or somethin' for not introducin' myself earlier. Name's Westerly Theodore Evans, but you can call me Wes. All my friends do," he winked.
"Maka Albarn," she said, shaking his hand.
"It's nice to finally meet ya, Miss Albarn. Soul's told me alot about you." He grunted as if he had been kicked or hit with something, but didn't take his gaze off her. Lowering his voice, he added, "Don't tell Ma 'bout my behavior here. She'd be more upset than a ragin' bull at a rodeo."
A breathy laugh broke from her at the joke. Wes was so different compared to Soul; so much more carefree and alive. It was hard to believe they were brothers.
Stage whispering, she said, "I'll keep it a secret. Don't worry."
His grin grew wide and bright as he turned to his brother and said, "I like her. You should definitely keep her 'round."
Warmth swelled in her chest.
Soul scowled. "Sometimes I wish I was an only child."
"Ah, come off it, little brother." Wes ruffled Soul's hair affectionately which earned him a strangled growl the younger man and a swat at the hand. "I know ya love me. I'm not an idiot."
"That's debatable."
Turning back to Maka, Wes said, "It's actually Soul here I gotta worry 'bout. He'd go blabbing to Ma 'bout me forgettin' my manners and not introducin' myself to a pretty lady like yourself. Can't trust this boy with a secret."
"I'm not gonna tell Ma," Soul tiredly said. He nodded toward the cameras. "'Sides, did you forget all of this is bein' televised."
"Ma won't even watch this show," Wes waved off. "She don't care 'bout no reality TV. It's you who watches them Kardashians and orange people."
"I don't watch the Kardashians or Jersey Shore," Soul grumbled.
Maka found it hard to restrain the giggle bubbling up her throat over the light banter between the two brothers and how well they seemed to get along. It was endearing.
"I really don't," Soul said when a small bit of laughter escaped from her.
Green met red as she saw the desperate look on his face. She wasn't entirely sure if he was indeed trying to cover up a secret guilty pleasure of his, or if Wes was attempting to embarrass the poor boy on TV. Either way, her inner need for mischief compelled her to join the fun.
"Don't worry. I believe you," she waved off. She gave him a sly grin before adding, "It's really nothing to be ashamed of, though. There's no judgment in watching reality TV. Even if it is really bad reality TV. We won't judge you."
"I don't-" he began but huffed as he sat back in his chair and took a sip of his wine. "Fine. Whatever. Believe what you want. I don't care."
Seeing the hurt in his face, she placed her hand on his and gave it a gentle squeeze and smiled. "Soul, we're joking."
Wes' gaze sparkled over his wine glass, the corners of his mouth tucked into a smirk as he stared at Maka's hand on Soul's. It was a warm and gentle look; a look she identified as the one someone gave to something they loved to see or found interesting. Her stomach lurched in surprise, and she withdrew her hand from Soul's. But her fingertips refused to cool as the feel of his skin hers buzzed there.
"I meant it, little brother, when I said you should keep this one around," Wes said to Soul.
She squeaked at the sudden declaration. Her cheeks flared with heat when her mind quickly connected the dots and identified the blatant implication of Wes' words. A small wave of delight washed over her chest she may have enjoyed more than she should. Soul, who had taken a drink of wine, shocked on the liquid before swallowing it down and staring wide-eyed at his brother.
How the conversation went from light teasing to this, she would never know.
"Wes," Soul snapped under his breath, "that was uncalled for. Don't make things awkward."
"No. It's fine," Maka waved. She met Soul's gaze as she continued. "I don't mind him saying that."
To Wes, she said, "I'm flattered you think so highly of me. Thank you."
The elder Evans' mouth curved up mischievously, his eyes glinting, as he turned to stare at his brother who slouched in his seat further than normal. A faint pink blossomed over his cheeks as he scratched the bridge of his nose and avoided his brother's gaze. It felt like they were having one of their private, brotherly conversations in that moment. Maka drank from her wine to distract herself from trying to decipher it. Lord knew she'd fail miserably at doing so.
One of the cameramen switching their weight pulled her attention to them, and she wondered how strong they were. She didn't imagine production cameras were light and easy on the shoulders. With the hours they spent filming, it must have been tiring to lug the large equipment around everywhere.
"Are you ready to order?" the waiter asked when he returned and broke the silence between the three.
"Uh, yeah." Soul grabbed the menu in front of him. "I'll have the Poisson du Jour Meuniere, and she'll have the Coq au Vin a L'Ancienne."
"Gimme the same as him. Thanks, darlin'," Wes said. The waiter paused in his writing briefly to process the words before continuing.
Blinking, Maka titled her head to the side in her own confusion at Wes' choice of words. It didn't help when Wes winked at the waiter upon catching his attention again. Her tongue itched to comment on the behavior, but she chose not to. It wasn't any of her business to question Wes' sexuality.
"Can you not flirt with the staff?" Soul asked once the waiter was gone.
"Don't be so selfish, little brother. Just 'cause you're the bachelor on this show, it doesn't mean I can't find my own tail to chase."
"I'm not chasing any tail," Soul mumbled low enough for only her and Wes to hear. "You're here to get to know Maka. Not flirt with everything that walks on two legs."
"Or four if they wish," Wes whispered under his breath. It earned him a glare from his brother.
"Don't say it like that. People are gonna get the wrong idea," Soul hissed.
"There ain't no sound guys, Soul. Relax."
A crease formed between Soul's brows. "Are you not wearing a mic?"
Wes ignored him as he turned toward Maka.
"So, Maka, tell me 'bout yourself. I don't know much 'cept what Soul's told Ma and I which really ain't much." She swore she heard someone's knee bang under the table as if they'd been kicked, but placed it as her imagination when neither boy reacted. "I know you're from New York City, work as a teacher for youngins, and came on the show for love or whatever. But no one really cares 'bought all that. Instead, why don't you tell me what you think 'bout this kid here?"
His question threw her off as she gawked him; a similar expression fell on Soul's face as well. She had expected him to hold a light conversation and ease his way into questioning her about his little brother. Not jump straight into the topic. Evelyn had at least been sly about the matter and drew Maka's opinion of her Soul out of her in strides.
Dropping her gaze away from either brother, Maka watched the condensation forming on her glass instead as she mulled over her words carefully. The heat pricking her chest and rising to her neck was due to the stale air in the room, she convinced herself. It had nothing to do with the topic at hand.
"I think he's a really great guy. A little rough around the edges, but he's really sweet underneath his hard exterior," she admitted.
She spared a glance in Soul's direction, the gentle way he looked at her twisting her stomach into knots and setting her heart aflame. It was a blessing to see him not angry or bothered by her confession. A small part of her had expected him to be annoyed with her being honest and blunt with his brother especially when the cameras were rolling.
"Hit the shoe on the right foot," Wes said. He raised his glass to Maka and drank from it. "That's my brother for ya. He's as friendly as an untamed horse when you first meet him, but once he gets used to ya, he's like a newborn puppy."
"Thanks for the kind comparison," Soul muttered, taking a sup of his own wine.
Though his tone was dry, the light shining behind his eyes didn't disappear. It reached the small smile he gave Maka, and she felt her own mouth return it.
"You're welcome." Wes clapped his brother on the back at the wrong time causing Soul to choke on the sip he had taken and spit it back into the glass. "Ah, careful there. Don't want ya to drown on wine before the show ends, now do we?"
Wes didn't seem to notice the glare Soul gave him in response.
"Anything else 'bout my little brother you wanna share?"
Soft blue eyes crinkled in the corners as he gave her a playful grin which told her he was fully aware of what he had done to his brother. A pang of jealousy shot across her as she giggled that made no sense. She wasn't exactly envious of their relationship or anything. They were brothers. There was a tight bond siblings had between them they rarely shared with anyone else. Liz's relationship with her own sister was proof of that.
Still, it felt like she was third-wheeling Wes and Soul even though the elder Evans brother was the odd man out. She was dating Soul; he wasn't dating his brother.
"Well, he's definitely full of surprises," Maka said, biting down the little green monster festering within her. "I never would have guessed he played the piano or spoke French."
Wes' eyes widened suddenly as he glanced toward his younger brother and back to Maka. "He played for you?"
"Mhm," she nodded, oblivious to the slight glee in his voice. "Before we came here, he gave me a private concert which was amazing. He's a very talented pianist. The song he performed was very emotional and beautiful - breathtaking. Surprising when you consider it came from him since he's so moody all the time."
Laughter boomed from Wes. "Don't I know it! Little brother was always better at expressin' himself better with music than words. Ain't that right?" Soul frowned and looked away in response, but Maka caught the blush creeping along his skin. "But he is talented. I tell him all the time, but he never believes me."
"He is, though," Maka was quick to agree. "I know much about the logistics behind music, but I know when I hear good music."
"That doesn't say much," Soul muttered. They both ignored him.
"Soul," she continued, "plays really beautiful piano pieces. I accidentally listened to some of the pieces he has on the iPod he leant to me without knowing they were him. They were all so emotional, though."
"Yea. See that's the thing 'bout Soul's music. He puts alot o' himself into 'em and puts so much emotion into everythin' he writes. Not many people thought that when he was growin' up - 'specially not Pa - but Ma and I always agree the boy's talented."
"I'm sittin' right here," Soul broke in.
"He really is."
Her gaze quickly drifted over to Soul. Between the time her and Wes started talking about his music to now, his face had turned brighter than tomato. A smile twitched on her lips at how embarrassed he looked, and she debated on whether they should change the topic or not. She was afraid if they continued, he'd die right there on the spot.
"I think we're embarrassing him," she directed to Wes.
Wes turned to his brother and grinned. "Aww, little brother's gettin' all red faced from our praisin'."
"I'm not," Soul muttered even though it was obvious he was.
"Sure. Keep lyin' to yourself. Maybe it'll be true one day, but we all know the truth," Wes affectionately said.
Maka laughed at the two before her and Wes continued their conversation, not missing a beat to compliment the younger cowboy who throw in his fair share of comments every now and then. She felt herself steadily growing more comfortable around the elder brother, enjoying his jovial banter with Soul when it arose, and was amazed at how easily it was to talk to him. The lightheartedness between them so much different than how her and Soul first got along with each other.
Unlike his brother, Wes was friendlier and more open. He laughed more, smiled brighter, and was all around Soul's opposite. She had more in common with Wes; they shared the same likes in literary and the arts and conversed in topics her and Soul never touched on.
But the connection she had with Wes wasn't the same as what she had with Soul.
There were moments when the conversation would shift onto another topic because they either disagreed on it or were on the verge of a small argument. Other times he would say something that irked her slightly, and she'd find herself wanting nothing more than to abandon it all together. It was like talking to a sibling; they didn't get along most of the time, but they still cared for each other. If the cameras weren't around, they'd more than likely fall into full out arguments.
The most interesting thing to arise from the conversation with Wes, though, was the hint of jealousy crossing Soul's face at a few points. In those moments, she would catch his gaze and smile and it would fade away. Like it had never occurred or it didn't matter.
Once their dinner was gone, The Bachelor crew realized they weren't going to be leaving any time soon and set their cameras up on tripods. Maka briefly wondered how long Soul's dinner date with the other girls before her had lasted. It was comment from Wes about a gaudy orange motorbike Soul used to have that drew the thought away from her as another took its place. The night they went out dancing and the bike Soul had driven her own flashed in her mind, and she whipped her attention to Wes. Soul's panic look at her reaction told her he knew what she was about to ask.
"Can you tell me about Soul's phase?"
"Phase?"
"Mhm," she nodded. "Soul had mentioned a while back he had a phase where he learned how to ride a motorcycle, but he refused to tell me about it. I was wondering if you maybe knew about it and could tell me instead?"
Another brotherly exchange fell between them as We glanced over at Soul, his eyes wide, and received a look Maka knew only as 'don't do it' from Soul. She had seen him throw it at the elder brother many times during their dinner when anything remotely humiliating arose; she was bound to recognize it eventually. Like when Wes mentioned Soul had slept with a night light until he was twelve.
Twisting in his seat so his back was toward Soul, Wes grinned with an evil glint in his blue eyes.
"I know the exact phase you're talkin' 'bout. The one where Soul got the bright idea to turn into a little teenage rebel when he was eighteen. A little late if you ask me," he shrugged.
"Wes. Please don't," Soul pleaded.
When his brother hushed him, he sighed, rested his elbow on the table, and cupped his chin in his hand. Though his facial expression was annoyed, there was a hopeful gleam in his gaze as he watched her.
"You shoulda told Maka 'bout it if you didn't want me to," Wes chided. "'specially when I'm gonna tell her my version of it."
"That's not reassuring at all," Soul groaned under his breath.
"So, when Soul turned eighteen, it was durin' the time Pa was on his whole prestigious college spiel since I nev'r went to one. He wanted one of us to be successful like himself, but music was never for me 'cause it was borin'. I'd rather be on the ranch than stuck in a monkey suit all the time."
Wes took a sip of his wine.
"'Pparently it wasn't for Soul either 'cause Soul here got the bright idea to go out and be a little rebellious when he got sick of being stuck in the practice room all the time and not able to be on the ranch with Blake and I. Came home one day with a whole new wardrobe - I still have nightmares 'bout that godawful jacket he had and red skinny jeans - and the worst color bike ever! Pa blew his lid when he saw that, but Soul didn't care. He wanted to be back on his horse more than anythin'."
Glancing at Soul, Maka raised her brows in shock. "Red skinny jeans? You?"
Soul's cheeks flushed. "The girl at the store said they looked good, and everyone in the city wore them so I bought 'em."
"Don't forget the shoes," Wes added with a small laugh. "I swear Soul had them custom made 'cause no one in their right mind would wear 'em let alone buy 'em. They had these black triangles on them like shark teeth and were full yellow. Matched his jacket, but red and yellow are a questionable combination. Ma probably still has photos of him if you're ever interested."
"Please no," Soul said, his blush deepening.
"I'll keep that in mind," Maka said earning her a small groan from the bachelor.
"The phase didn't last long, but it was funny to see it happen. It was basically five months of Soul blastin' the worst punk rock music ever and sneakin' out and ignorin' everythin' our Pa told him. You shoulda seen him with that bike, though. He loved it to death, tassels and all." Wes solemnly shook his head, a small smile dancing on his mouth at the memory. "Poor kid didn't know how embarrassin' it was."
"It was cool," Soul interjected.
"Don't hurt yourself trippin' over that lie, little brother," Wes tossed over his shoulder. To Maka, he said, "He also had everyone call him Soul Eater 'cause he wanted to get rid of the Evans part. Even created a stupid headband to go along with it. Probably still has it if you ever find yourself in his room."
It was Maka's turn to blush as Wes winked at her.
She distracted herself from it by trying to picture Soul wearing the garb Wes described and Soul as a rebel. It proved to be difficult, though. The Soul of today didn't quite fit the image of someone who listened to rock music and rode around on a motorcycle in skinny jeans. He was far too country in her head. Maybe the attitude of a rebel was better suited for Soul considering the original facade he had upon arriving at the ranch, but everything else? Not so much.
"As fun as rebel Soul sounds," Maka said, "I much prefer the Soul of today."
Jade met sanguine as she added, "I like ranch boy Soul better."
The way Soul's gaze softened made her heart flutter and warmth bloom over her chest. He raised a hand to tug down on a hat that wasn't there as his cheeks flushed pink, choosing to instead comb his fingers through his hair, and lifted his gaze away from hers. Maka did the same, but the look Wes gave them didn't go unnoticed by her. Neither did the smug grin he threw his brother. A few seconds later, the elder brother directed the conversation to another subject that didn't involve Soul.
Still, she couldn't help but to continuously meet Soul's gaze and smile. The warmth in her body heating each time she did so.
The truck headlights gleamed out in front of them as they drove up the long, dirt driveway, casting everything in a faint yellow. Soft jazz music emitted from the speakers as the vehicle dipped and rose with the ground, and it took all of her willpower to stay awake. Her sleepiness has nothing to do with Soul's music choice - it was slow and sensual, but still lovely to listen to. Rather, they were arriving back to the ranch close to one in the morning after having spent longer than intended at the restaurant talking and laughing about all the stories Wes had to share.
Her head snapped up when the truck lurched to a stop. A low chuckle filled the cab as she blinked and rubbed her eyes.
"Shuddup," she murmured, her voice raw from lack of use.
"Sorry to wake up, sleepin' beauty," Soul whispered. "But we're home."
She hated how her heart tightened at the word, the wishful thought of it being true crossing her mind. He turned the truck off, removed the keys from the ignition, and placed them in the cup holder. They sat in a comfortable silence, Maka watching the stars twinkle in the sky above. A minute or two later, the headlights faded and left them in complete darkness save for the lights from the house a few yards away. With the camera crew retired for the day from filming, it was only her and Soul.
Alone.
"I wasn't sleeping," she finally said, glancing over at him.
Shadows danced on his face making him even more handsome.
"Yea, sure. Don't trip over that lie," he smiled, meeting her gaze. His southern accent had thankfully returned, and she realized how much she missed it during their date. It added to his charm.
Maka laughed. "You can't use your brother's line."
"Who ever said it was his?"
"I like your accent," she said before she could stop herself. Her eyes widened. "Sorry. I didn't mean to say that."
"Do you think it's sexy?" he said a little too smug.
Rolling her eyes, she playfully pushed him for the question, but before she could withdraw her hand, he wrapped his own around it and held it in the space between them. Her heart danced and twisted at his touch, her breath catching in her throat, and she tried to think of anything else except for him. She didn't succeed, though.
They sat in silence once again, and Maka watched as Soul played with her hand. He set it against his own, seeing how small it was in comparison and pressing the tips of fingers against hers. Goosebumps ran down her spine and cool liquid stirred in her lower abdomen with each movement, each touch of his skin on hers. Her heart steadily raced when his thumb caressed over her knuckles and his gaze met hers. Even in the darkness she could see how intense they were; the red of his irises burning in the space between them.
"You're beautiful," he whispered.
She didn't have time to think or react as he raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, his gaze never leaving hers.
"I had fun tonight," he said, placing her hand back down and letting go.
He rubbed his palms against his pant legs and stared out into the open field before them. Her fingertips tingled with the desire to pull him toward her and kiss him, but she restrained herself.
"I did too," she said. "I guess I'll see you at the rose ceremony?"
Soul smiled, his eyes shining with mirth. "Yea. Unless you're my date for tomorrow as well."
"I doubt Marie'll schedule a date with the same person back to back."
"You're probably right." His tongue flicked out to wet his lips. "Would've been great, though."
"Yeah." She grabbed the handle of the door. "Goodnight."
"Night."
A moment's hesitation was all she needed as she closed the distance between them and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Maybe it was too bold of her to do so, but the moment felt right. She didn't spare a second glance as she quickly left the truck and crossed the field to where the guest house was. Her cheeks burned with every step she took, and her heart never ceased in its fluttering. Not even when she went entered the house, so quiet and still, and went to bed.
At the rose ceremony, she stood in her usual spot right in the middle with a clear view of Soul. The table tonight held only four roses to represent the remaining spots left and how quickly the end of the show was coming upon them. Nervousness wracked Maka's bones and every core in her body at the realization of how far she had come and how close she was to the end. Everything had happened so quickly, so fast, she hadn't had much time to mull it over. One moment she was tossing her drink on the bachelor, and now she was kissing him on the cheek.
"Maka."
The sound of her name sounded like a forgotten melody as Maka was drawn out of her thoughts. She met Soul's gaze before staring down at the rose in his hand. Had time passed by so quickly she hadn't even heard him call the other girls name? Glancing around her, she realized they were all four still standing beside her and no one held a rose of their own.
It took her a second later to realize he had called her first.
Soul never called her first.
Stepping down the platform, she crossed the foyer to where Soul stood trying to comprehend what his reasoning behind the change was, but came up short. His knuckles brushed against her hand as he held the rose out to her sending sparks of heat to fly up her arm and to her heart.
"Maka, will you accept this rose as a token of my love?"
They were the same words he asked her and the other bachelorettes countless times in the previous weeks, but for some reason, the sounded different tonight. Every syllable was said with such care and fondness. She blinked once - twice - before her mind connected the threads together.
"Yes," she said, taking the rose and walking to the side to wait for the other three girls who would be continuing on to join her.
As she watched Soul give away the other three roses, there wasn't a doubt in her mind she was starting to fall for him like he might have already fallen for her.