I had so many issues getting here and had to repair her multiple times, which drained my finances. Now, if I’m lucky, I’m down to just enough for food and maybe a week or two of campground fees. I need to quickly decide my next move or perhaps find a temporary job here to boost my funds before hitting the road again.
I should absolutely sit down and make a plan, but my thoughts wander away again. Maybe it’s because it’s been over a year since I’ve been with someone, but I can’t shake off the memory of last night.
Or maybe it was just all the things he did to me.
Just thinking about it gives me a tingling feeling between my legs, and I have to squeeze my thighs together. I don’t know if I like it or not that I know his name now.
Knowing his name adds a layer of complexity I don’t want. I don’t plan on staying here long—just enough time to sort things out and get back on the road. I just need some time to figure outmy next steps. The last thing I need is a man ghosting around my mind.
I made it.
I kept my promise.
I brought her ashes here.
So, what do I do now?
Besides thinking about mind-blowing sex.
“Nash,” I murmur to myself with a smile as I open my van’s side door and shut it behind me. I settle onto my makeshift bed and reach out to turn on the radio next to it.
“Actually, it’s Saylor,” a voice corrects from my right, making me nearly jump out of my skin. In a reflex, I snatch a spatula from the cooking area beside me, brandishing it defensively as I whirl toward the voice. The cute guy from Nash’s porch is seated next to me on my bed, legs crossed, wearing a grin that spans his entire face. “I doubt that’ll do much, but go ahead, take a swing. I’d love to see that.”
“What the hell?” I exclaim, taking in his almost-translucent appearance. I can see my pillow right through him. But what’s even more alarming is the mere fact that he’s here.
Contrary to popular belief, ghosts don’t usually haunt places. They mostly haunt people. The spirits of the departed often still care deeply for their living loved ones, which is why they find it hard to move on when they sense something isn’t right. It’s not only their own unfinished business that keeps them but also the unresolved feelings or issues of those they left behind.
Of course, there are exceptions. Sometimes, feelings of betrayal or anger can cause a spirit to linger around those who wronged them. Or they may get lost and wait around the last place they knew. There are spirits from people who died decades ago, still in the homes they lived in because they can’t find the light, and the people they loved already died too. Or perhaps they simply don’t want to. There are so many facetsto this. However, a ghostneverhaunts someone they have no connection to.
I can’t feel him either.
So maybe not a ghost at all?
“What are you?” I ask him, my curiosity overcoming my initial shock. I promised myself I’d never talk to a spirit again, but I can’t ignore this guy casually sitting in my van, flashing his dimples as if he belongs here.
“What kind of question is that?” He chuckles, looking relaxed as he leans back on the palms of his hands. “What do you expect me to say? I’m a vegetarian? Well, I’m not.” I can only gape at him, unable to find words. “I’m a Sagittarius, a photographer, a coffee lover. I?—”
“No,” I respond, stopping him short, my voice wavering slightly. “Are you a ghost?”
“Well, I assumed I was dead since no one could see or hear me,” he replies, shrugging. As he leans forward again, closing the gap between us, I instinctively lean back, my unease growing. “Except for you,” he adds with a smile.
So, a ghost, after all.
“B-but why are you translucent? Ghosts aren’t t-translucent,” I stutter like an idiot.
“Maybe I’m just a cool ghost.” He grins with mirth in his eyes.
While on the road, I saw spirits constantly but never engaged with any of them. Is it possible that mygiftwill fade if I don’t use it enough?
Gosh, that would be such a relief.
“It was nice meeting you, but I’d appreciate it if you’d leave now,” I say, my tone growing icy.
“Don’t be like that,” he pleads, his expression turning earnest. “Can you imagine what it feels like to be seen for the first time in years? Do you know how lonely it is to have no one to talk to?”
“I do,” is all I say, feeling the pang of loneliness that has crept into my life.
“See, you’re lonely too. We could be friends. I’ll make a fantastic one. I’ll always be around, especially since I’ve got nothing else to do. I can even look the other way the next time you decide you want to fuck my little brother,” he says with a teasing smirk.
