“Can I touch you?” I ask hesitantly, locking my gaze onto her. She nods, whimpering a soft confirmation as she draws her lower lip between her teeth. Without taking my eyes off her, I lift a trembling hand towards her face, lightly brushing it against her cheek. Jace shivers under my touch but doesn’t pull away. She leans into it, and I have to pull back slightly to keep from moving through her.
“It tickles,” she giggles softly, closing her eyes. She mewls as my hand finds its way down her neck and over her bare shoulder. “Am I dreaming again?”
“Or I am,” I hum, continuing my gentle stroke down her arm to where it rests on her hip. “Let me haunt you, little doe.”
She rocks her body forward, silently urging me to continue my exploration of her sensitive skin. My cock twitches, straining against the ghostly fabric of my jeans. My palm runs down the crease where her legs fold into her center, longing to feel the warmth between her thighs. A moan escapes my throat, imagining her wetness coating my palm as I slide between her legs. The thin fabric of her sleep shorts tingles against my skin as I press into it, and Jace gasps.
“Fuck, I’ve got to be dreaming,” she whines between hitched breaths. Her hips roll into me, begging for more friction. “Please, it’s been so long.”
“What does it feel like?” I ask, cupping three fingers together and curving them to the delicate contour of her body. My hand moves in slow circles, gradually building momentum as the pitch of her breathing increases.
“Like falling asleep,” she whispers, leaning her head back and exposing her neck. My fingers move faster. Her pulse quickens, beating wildly in the hollow of her throat. I lean closer, tracing my tongue along her collarbone, causing her to cry out. “Fuck!” she squeals, bucking into me. “It feels like the little electric zaps that crackle through your body to keep you awake. Only I want to keep dreaming.”
She manages to get all her words out before she slips under the wave of euphoria washing over her body. Biting her lip to muffle her moans, she rides through the lingering shockwaves of her release. Jace’s hand reaches for me, but it falls straight through my body. Her lips curve into a frown, knitting her eyebrows together. “What a weird fucking dream,” she murmurs, eyelids growing heavy again.
I brush her bangs back to press my lips to her forehead. She’s already asleep when I pull back to slide out of the bed. I wish I could stay, be here when she wakes, convincing her thiswas more than a dream. Roux will eventually come back to bed, though, and this illusion of intimacy between us will shatter.
As I sneak out of her room, I turn back to take a long last look at her. Jace’s face is relaxed, the hint of a smile still painted there as she floats away somewhere in her dreams. “Goodnight, my little doe,” I whisper, drifting into the dark hall.
19
CYRUS
Asharp inhale comes from behind me, breaking the silence of the hallway. I freeze, and for a moment, I forget I’m the one who’s a ghost here, fearing one may share this dark space with me instead.
“Cyrus?” Roux’s quivering voice floats through the darkness. “Is thatyou?”
Panic consumes me, rendering me completely unsure of what to do with myself. She can see me. Worse yet, she recognizes me. I feel trapped, obligated to respond instead of trying to fade away.
I whirl to face her, wondering if it’s too late to flee. My feet stay stuck to the floor. Her eyes enlarge, color draining from her fallen face and slack jaw. I could run, speed straight through her down the narrow passageway, escaping without further interaction.
“Itisyou,” she says breathlessly, full of wonder more than fear. “What are you doing here?”
“Boo!” I joke half-heartedly, shrugging my shoulders. I look toward the front door longingly; I can still make a break for it.
Roux pretends to shake with fear, stifling a giggle and taking careful steps forward. She cautiously reaches a hand out as shenears me, and I instinctively take a step back. Her arm reaches again, and I push it away. My fingertips brush against her skin, and Roux yanks her arm to her chest, cradling it. Her eyes, full of hurt and surprise, flicker from me to her arm then back again. “So weird,” she whispers to herself, shaking her head. She stares at me, eyes sharpening as they rake over me, full of questions. “Wait, did you just leave Jace’s room?”
“Guilty,” I confess, turning my head away to avoid her burning gaze. What just happened between me and Jace suddenly seems wrong, souring from a third person possibly realizing what we’ve done.
“What were you doin’ in there?” Her eyes narrow further, judging me like she knows exactly what I was doing. Discomfort crawls under my skin as she continues silently analyzing me. Roux doesn’t seem to be scared or apprehensive about the fact that I’m dead, a ghost standing right in front of her. “What are you doin’ here at all? Shouldn’t you be hauntin’ your daddy’s house or somethin’?”
“Geez, Roux. Always askin’ the tough questions, huh?” The words tumble out in frustration, almost angry we’re having a seemingly normal conversation. “You can see me?”
“Well, yeah. I’m talking to you, aren’t I?” She laughs, waving her hands in the air between us. “Unless I’m just havin’ a weird dream, but I’m pretty sure I’m not.” She pinches herself then points to the red spot. “Nope, see? Not dreaming.”
“I…” I’m lost for words. In the last two years, no one has seen me so clearly, let alone had a full-blown conversation with me. “I…I don’t know. Aren’t you scared?”
“You’d think that,” she laughs, looking down and kicking a foot against the hardwood. She rolls her ankle in a slow circle, drawing invisible symbols on the floor. “But you’re not the first ghost I’ve seen, Cyrus. Quit dodging the question. What are you doin’ here?”
“I shoulda known, even in death, I couldn’t escape you and your questions,” I laugh, rolling my eyes. Her words are pointed—sharp, digging into me, twisting them around to extract the truth. She hasn’t changed one bit.
An uncomfortable feeling spools up inside me, twisting through my spine and tying my tongue into knots. Holy shit, I’m actually nervous. I’m afraid whatever answer I give won’t be good enough, and she’ll ring the alarm, alerting the entire house to my presence—snitching on me the same way she did when we were kids. Purely out of habit, I take a deep breath. Air swirls through me, stinging the area where my lungs used to be.
“I saw her through the window a couple of nights ago and realized she was home,” I answer honestly, tilting my head back and groaning. I can’t believe I’m answering to Roux like she’s my mama. “I couldn’t justnotsee her, Roux.”
The admission hangs between us, suspended in tense silence. The more I think about it, the angrier I become. Why would she deny me this, knowing how I feel about Jace? Roux continues staring, lifting an eyebrow. Words of defense rise in my throat, justifications and reasonings I’m not sure will be enough or make sense to anyone except me. “The last two years, I haven’t thought about anything except how I can make my old man’s life more miserable than he already makes it himself. I honestly never thought I’d see Jace again. But now I know she’s back, it feels like this is my only chance to try and make things right. I need to explain to her I didn’t mean to leave her alone—I would never abandon her,” I ramble, rolling the palms of my hands over my jeans nervously.
“Does your pop know?” Roux questions, catching me off guard by the change in subject. I frown, waiting for her to lecture me as if she’s not eight years younger. She holds her hand out in front of her, motioning to me. “Does he know you’re like this?”
