“You don’t?”
I shift and she follows, fear coming off her in waves. I’m ashamed to admit that I rather enjoy feeling the hero for once, instead of the bastard.
“Not really.” I sigh, preparing to destroy any good will between us. “Ghosts are like religion. Crutches invented by people who need something to believe in when life gets rough.”
“Whoa.” Finally, she eases slightly away. Not entirely, but enough to get a little breathing room. She’s still soft, still warm, still close. “Those are some fighting words to be pulling out on Christmas Eve, big guy.”
“Yes, well, to me it’s a day like any other.”
“Of course it is.” She edges farther, taking her heat with her. And her goodwill.
I bend, surprised to find the whisky bottle intact at my feet, and locate the mobile. When I touch the screen, nothing happens. I push a side button. No change. Should I tell her that we’ve lost our light source? I don’t really want to. My breathing’s leveled out, but hers is still audible, quick and frantic. She’s scared.
Wait. What if she’s afraid ofme?
Like a rugby ball to the stomach, our earlier conversation comes back to me and I hang my head in shame, realizing just how inappropriate I’ve been.
Her arse? Her smell? Christ, what am I doing?
Damn it, Llewelyn, what is wrong with you?It takes a right prick to bring up a woman’s body—no matter how fine it is—in a situation like this one. Here we are caught in a stressful, possibly life-threatening mess, and I’m the prat who had to go and talk about the woman’s arse, before literally groping her in the dark.
“I must apologize. I shouldn’t have said what I did earlier. About your…” Oh, shut it, you twat. “It was inappropriate. And I’m sorry.”
“About my butt?” She huffs out a sound that could be a laugh or simply irritation. “It’s fine. I…” Another huff. “I appreciate the compliment.”
“Yes, well. My timing could use a little work.”
“No kidding.”
“Truly, though. I mean, yes, you’re magnificent, but…”Abort, mate. You’re making a mess of it.“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, given the ah, close quarters, all right? Well, feel however you like, obviously. Far be it from me to tell you how to…”Shut your fucking mouth. Shut it now.“Listen, why don’t you…”
“What?” Is she laughing? I think she’s laughing.
“You should say something inappropriate. To, I don’t know, balance the scales, if you wish. Or, crap, maybe grope me.”
“Grope you?”
“Like I just did you, for which I apolo—”
“Was that groping? I thought you were protecting me?”
“I was.”
“Well then, I’m not…” A few seconds pass in silence. “God, how long are we gonna be here?”
I don’t bother answering. No point, is there?
“You know what? Sure. I’ll balance the scales.”
I laugh, surprising myself.
“You want a compliment?”
I’m the one now who’s breathing fast. “Whatever you like. Compliment, insult, full-on rant. Pick your poison. I deserve it.”
Her dark hum heats the air between us, turning pure fear into something more pleasant. “I already told you what I call you.”
“You did. And itreallyhurt.”
