“What are you talking about? I wasn’t having any dream.”
She smirks, rolling her eyes. “Just admit it. I know a sexy dream when I hear one.”
I huff, working to untangle myself from the offending sheets.
“Go back to bed. You’re delusional.”
Lanie yawns, stretching her arms above her head. “Can’t. I have class in less than an hour.”
My head swivels to locate the clock. 5:45 a.m. Too damn early to be dealing with illicit dreams. I’ll need to compartmentalize it as a byproduct of his heroism as of late. Or it could be all the talk of him last night that conjured him.
That’s all.
Liar.
I can admit the man is growing on me. But that does not mean I should be dreaming about sleeping with him. That’s a bit much, considering I still hardly know him.
When I’ve managed to pull myself together and usher Lanie out my door, I allow myself to linger over a cup of coffee, enjoying a Billy-free moment. I do my best to push that dream out of my mind, determined to focus on the real issues at hand.
From my perch at the kitchen island, I get a good look at what’s become of my once-immaculate home. Dishes in the sink used to give me hives, and empty fast-food containers lying about the counter, heart palpitations. Yet, that’s exactly what I’m currently staring at.
I can’t even blame the state of the place on Lanie. She’s actually thrown her stuff away and even placed her dirty dishes in the dishwasher. It would be too much to ask her to put mine in there as well.
I’ve allowed my home to resemble a fraternity house after a weekend bender.
Garrett would find this too amusing, considering the tongue-lashing he’d get for leaving his stuff lying around. Apparently with the development that I can see ghosts, my give-a-damn has thoroughly busted.
I take a stroll around my first floor, inspecting the damage. So far, the kitchen is the most disastrous. The office hasn’t counted for two years. At some point, I know I need to sift through the boxes and move things around.
Most of the stuff needs to be donated, but I’m not ready for that. I’ll hold on to his memory by hoarding all of his things. As long as it’s contained to one room, I can justify that it’s fine. I’m fine.Everythingis fine.
In the past, even thinking about parting with his things mademe nauseous. Today, that feeling isn’t so intense. I’m getting closer to that day, but it’s not here yet.
“Are you going to clean this place up or just think about it?” Billy chirps from behind me.
I don’t even flinch this time. He’s becoming a fixture—one I’d like to remove, like every single piece of gold that was to be found in this home when we bought it. It was an ugly phase when all the knobs and faucets were that putrid shade.
Thinking about those days further reminds me of Garrett, and my chest tightens. “Billy, can I ask you a very personal question?”
He pulls his lip to the side. “Is this going to hurt my brain? Make me dumb?”
“Too late.”
He crosses his eyes like a toddler. “You know, for a forty-year-old, your insults and basic demeanor are that of a small child.”
“I’ve never been in forced proximity to anyone who brings out the immaturity in me quite like you do, sport.” I offer the most saccharine smile I can muster.
He groans. “Get on with it so I can go do something less painful.”
I almost tell him to forget it, but the need for answers is too intense to allow my ego to get in the way.
“What happened when you died?”
Billy looks off into the distance, appearing lost to his memories. For a moment, I wonder if my question is insensitive. I might not like him, but there are boundaries I won’t cross even with him. I can razz him. I can even despise the guy. But I won’t purposefully hurt someone, and I can imagine reliving the moment you died is painful.
“I wasn’t scared or confused. It felt like I was going home.” As he’s explaining this, his eyes mist, and I feel wholly uncomfortable with that. This is Billy. The ghost I love to hate. He’s making it very difficult to maintain my opinion of him when he looks vulnerable.“I felt at peace, until the light that was shining down on me disappeared and I ended up here.”
“I’m sorry, Billy. Truly. I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been.”
