“Yes, we do,” Marjorie replied. “If we can’t reason with them, we’ll have no choice but to banish them. Their desire to celebrate Halloween can’t endanger something good for the rest of the spiritual world.”
Slate truly didn’t want to punish them for wanting to have a good time. The weight of responsibility he thought he’d shed when they stabilized the rift had returned. If he didn’t fix this fast, it would be hard to get rid of it again.
Before he could solve the problem, he needed to understand what they were dealing with.
“I have an idea.”
Chapter Four
“Your mother’s going to text you in an hour telling you to eat the leftover food for lunch,” Dash said.
Slate loved his mother. She’d always made sure he felt loved—especially after he came out—but she was exhausting. “No. She’ll call. Texting doesn’t let her hear if I sound properly fed.”
“Oh, God. Please tell me she doesn’t know how to video chat.” Dash settled back into the couch, and his hoodie seemed to swallow him. “I will not FaceTime with her when we’re in bed. There need to be boundaries.”
Once his parents left, the house sounded quiet. It gave new meaning to “quiet after the storm.” “She does, we won’t, and absolutely.”
“Glad we agree,” Dash said. “Now for something I disagree with you about. Thomas can handle pretending to be a partygoer, but Oliver is still so naïve. It will be obvious he doesn’t want to party.”
Slate had thought about Oliver’s participation, but while he had his doubts, it was still a good idea. “Maybe not. Most of these guests act like perpetually high ghosts. They’ll probably notice his weird clothes, but then accept him as another dude who diedyoung and wants to party. Thomas is savvy enough to cover for Oliver.”
“You’re matchmaking,” Dash said, throwing back his hood. “You sneaky little romantic.”
Slate couldn’t deny it had crossed his mind, but it wasn’t the reason he suggested it. “Who better to find out what these ghosts are up to than ghosts? They care about Oriskany Falls. And they’re already here.”
“And you’re trying to get them to work closely together, hoping they’ll figure out what we already see.” A smile spread across Dash’s face. “That’s actually brilliant.”
Slate felt the knot of worry in his chest loosen slightly. “I have good ideas now and then.”
Dash leaned in and kissed Slate’s cheek. “You’re still matchmaking, but your heart’s in the right place.”
Before he could move away, Slate pulled Dash closer. “I prefer to call it problem-solving. If it creates opportunities for our oblivious friends to spend quality time together, that’s just efficient use of resources.”
“Next you’ll be trying to take over my job,” Dash said, pressing himself closer.
Slate had dreams other than running ERP and maintaining the portal, but coding wasn’t one of them. “Nope, but I might have been working on a plan for a vacation house I’d like to build for us one day.”
“Really?” Dash bolted up so fast he nearly clocked Slate in the face with the back of his head. “You’re designing again?”
A flurry of thoughts rushed through Slate’s head—the plan was nowhere close to being ready, they might never build it, and how much he loved Dash. “You’ve been pushing me to follow my dream. I thought I’d start small. Something for us before I try to find clients.”
“That’s so great!” Dash wrapped his arms around him. “I know it’s not ready, and you don’t want to show me yet, and I understand, but I really want to see it. No pressure, because I don’t know dick about architecture, but this is so exciting. I can’t wait to build it. Do I need to ask Grandpa Mort for money? Not right away, but maybe give him a heads-up it’s coming. And…”
Slate cupped Dash’s face and kissed him hard to get him to stop. And if he got to kiss his favorite pair of lips in the process,thatwas also problem solving.
They broke apart, and Dash gasped for breath. “Why’d you stop?”
It had not been easy to stop, but if Slate hadn’t, they’d have ended up in bed. “We need to deal with our Gary problem.”
“Wow, if that’s not a cock deflator.” Dash made a show of adjusting himself. “But you’re right.”
Being right didn’t make it easier. “Let’s go find them before I forget about being responsible.”
Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t expect he could just find them, but Thomas had been lingering in the kitchen after he saved them. Slate didn’t see him, but he’d felt Thomas’s presence while they ate.
“They’re in the music room,” Dash said as they made their way toward the kitchen.
“You can tell that from here?” Slate asked. “Both of them?”
