Once we faced each other again, Charlie wrapped his arms around me. We stayed like that for a long time, before he eventually tilted his head back to kiss me, slow and deep. “Thank you,” he whispered when he pulled away. “I know it’s difficult for you to open up like that.”
“I don’t mean to keep things from you. I just get caught up in my head. But I’ll try, for you.”
He kissed me again, and a spark of that sly wit I loved so much peeked through. “For the record, I would thoroughly enjoy a quick back-alley tryst with you.”
I laughed and ushered him into the bathroom, forever buoyed by the way he could lighten any burden. “The Biofreeze probably applies there, too.”
Upon seeing the shower, he groaned. “Ashower? Oh, fuck yes.”
“I can leave you two alone, if you’d prefer privacy.”
He tugged me into the stall by the wrist. “Not a chance. Soap me down while I sizzle under the hot water.”
“Yes, Chef.”
My phone rang an hour later.
Lying on the couch with Charlie on top of me, I carded my fingers through his soft, still-damp hair, and contemplated turning the ringer off and letting it go to voicemail.
Along with the next call, and the next.
I thought about living out what half the town had accused Charlie of doing nearly forty years ago, and driving out of Ponderosa, with him right next to me in the passenger seat. We could start over brand new, somewhere we’d never be found.
It’d be enough just to have each other, wouldn’t it?
As if in answer, Charlie propped his chin on my chest to look up at me and whispered, “You should answer that.”
I thought of Bobby. And Mom, Dad, Keith, and everyone else who loved me. Everyone who would love Charlie, too, if given the chance.
He pressed his hand over my heart, lightly scratching the hair there.
I’ll always be able to find you.
I reached over, answering just before the call went to voicemail. “Hello?”
Tate’s somber voice crackled through the line. “It’s time.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Viola Morris’s red brick house was unremarkable.
Sitting on the corner of a quiet street on the outskirts of Ponderosa, the lawn was manicured and flowerbeds were weeded, lit by a few solar lanterns staked into the ground.
It didn’t look like the kind of house where paranormal dealings occurred. There were no creeping vines, crumbling and decrepit walls, or unsettling silhouettes peering out of third-story windows.
But then again, who was I to judge what the paranormally inclined looked like? I was in love with a ghost.
I clutched Charlie’s hand as we followed Tate up the walkway.
“My grandmother is… quirky. She can be a bit abrasive, but she means well.”
“Like you?” I asked before I could stop myself. To my surprise, it sounded less like an accusation and more like something I’d say to Bobby.
Charlie gave me a look, anyway.
Tate shook his head. “I know you’re not my biggest fan right now, but I swear, before we die, I’ll get you to call me your fucking friend, West.”
I sighed. “Let’s just get this over with. Are you ready?” I asked Charlie.
