Page 95 of Reckless

I look at him properly. The fairy lights above us, the noise of the people I love filling every corner of this room, Marley’s laugh carrying across the space. The kind of safety that comes from being surrounded by brothers who, six days ago, proved exactly what they are capable of protecting. I think about his hand on my knee on that highway, the way he pulled me deeper into the formation without a word, the fact that he put himself between me and the outside lane before I had even understood there was a threat to put himself between.

“I’m working on it,” I tell him.

He doesn’t answer straightaway.

He just looks at me.

Ghost has always been observant. It’s how his mind works. He notices loose threads, tiny inconsistencies, the details everybody else misses. Somewhere along the way I’d become one of those details, too, and I don’t think he’s stopped paying attention since.

“I know,” he says softly.

It’s only two words.

Somehow, they still manage to wrap themselves around my heart.

He stays close to me for the rest of the night without turning it into a thing.

It isn’t hovering.

It’s Ghost.

He drifts into whatever conversation I’m having without taking it over, appears beside me every time someone pulls me toward the dance floor or the bar, and somehow, without either of us acknowledging it, I always know exactly where he is.

By the time the music slows and people start breaking into smaller conversations, he’s standing close enough that our shoulders brush every time someone squeezes past.

I don’t move away.

Neither does he.

“I’m starting to think this isn’t accidental,” I murmur, keeping my eyes on the room even though every part of me is acutely aware of him beside me.

“What isn’t?”

“You.”

One corner of his mouth lifts. “I’ve been accused of worse.”

A laugh slips out before I can stop it. “Have you?”

“Mm…”

“For example?”

He turns his head, then finally looks at me. “You think too much.”

“I absolutely do not.”

“You’ve spent the last three minutes pretending not to notice I’m standing here.”

Heat climbs into my cheeks. “I noticed.”

“Actually admitting something… progress. Objection.” Something in the way he says it makes my stomach tighten.

Someone brushes between us, carrying two drinks, nudging me backward a step.

Ghost follows without thinking.

Another couple drifts past, laughing, leaving me with nowhere else to go until my back meets the wall beside the bar.