Chapter 15
15
I really shouldn’t have fucked him.
I try for hours to get my mind to calm down, but I’m still excited and unsettled by how much having sex with Noah made me feel . I’d thought that experiencing little to no sensations was torture, but having all of my body hypersensitized might be worse. On top of that, Emma is using the guest room, so I’m futilely trying to fall asleep on the uncomfortable couch in the living room.
The only thing that brings me some solace is that Noah is probably as on edge as I am. A cruel thrill rolls through me at the thought of him lying in his bed, cock hardening every time he remembers what happened but unable to do anything about it. Because as much as I think he’s a jerk, I have zero doubts he’ll follow my orders.
There’s something inside Noah that’s desperate to please, and from what I can tell, it’s not purely a kink.
Noah is lonely. Whether he’s talking with me while I’m catfishing him as Jessie or letting a ghost ride him on the bathroom floor, there’s a sad longing in his eyes. I recognize it because, as a hopeless romantic, I spent a good portion of my life dealing with that same craving.
I don’t understand him. Why would someone who clearly wants a connection ghost me after weeks of talking and an amazing first date? I know I’ve been delusional in the past, but there’s no doubt in my mind that there was something special between us. The kind of thing that’s so easy and natural that it feels meant to be.
An uncomfortable ache builds in my chest as the memory of him smiling at me across the table on our date and the grin on his lips when he’s texting Jessie swirl together.
Ugh, I hate this!
I pick up one of the couch cushions and toss it across the room, where it thuds dully against the tv stand. A few moments later, the door to Noah’s bedroom creaks open and I catch a glimpse of his rumpled hair and stupidly handsome face through the crack in the door.
“Ghost?” he whispers, opening it up further to peer out into the hallway.
Shit, I need to get out of here before I decide to grab Noah and pin him against the couch so I can ride him again. That’ll probably make me feel even more agitated, and he doesn’t deserve more pleasure from me.
I hurry away and slip out the front door, hoping Noah won’t think to look for me there. The balmy night air does nothing to cool my senses, but it’s somewhat miraculous that I can even sense the temperature at all. My spectral body feels shockingly close to how itdid when I was alive, down to the rapid thumping of my phantom heart and my skin prickling as a slight breeze picks up.
Distracted by the symphony of sensation, it takes me a while to realize that I’m not alone out here. There’s a car parked on the street in front of my house, with someone sitting inside it looking at their phone despite the late hour.
I move closer, curious about who it could be. Emma already got back from the bar, and Noah hasn’t had any other guests come visit.
Are they lost?
It’s hard to make out the details of the man in the car with only the low light of his phone screen to illuminate him. After a minute of texting, he puts it away and starts messing around with something in his hands. He continues to sit there for the next five minutes, occasionally glancing up from whatever he’s doing to look out toward the sidewalk and the street in front of him.
I’m baffled, but it’s proving to be a decent distraction. I move closer so I can figure out what the hell he’s doing. The clouds part as I reach the passenger side of his car, the moon casting a glow bright enough to illuminate things more as I bend over to peer inside the car.
He’s… crocheting?
That’s all I have time to process before the man goes stock still, then turns and looks in my direction. My stomach lurches despite the knowledge that I’m invisible, and that surge of adrenaline only increases when his eyes widen in alarm and he drops his crochet hook and scrambles to grab his keys and start the car.
I turn over my shoulder, expecting to see Noah emerging from the house or someone else behind me, but no one is there.
He wasn’t looking in my direction. He was looking at me .
The me that is currently out on the lawn buck ass naked because I was too overheated to put my dress back on after having sex with Noah.
I attempt to obscure as much of my nudity with my arms and hands as possible, a furious blush rising in my cheeks. “You can see me?” I gasp loudly.
The man turns back to look at me with a matching flush on his pale, freckled skin.
He can hear me, too! Holy shit.
“Please don’t go! I didn’t mean to scare you,” I shout, unwilling to let this stranger who apparently can see ghosts get away. Even if he’s a con artist vampire like Vincent, who was waiting for me to fall into his trap, I have nothing left to lose.
Embarrassingly, tears spring to my eyes at the thought of being able to communicate with someone without needing to resort to texting.
The man keeps his gaze squarely on my face and mutters something to himself, before setting down his car keys and rolling down the passenger window. “I have a ward against possession,” he says sharply. “If that’s your aim, don’t bother.”
I blink back at him. “Uh, what?”
His brow furrows, and he leans forward with a stern glare, like he’s trying to better assess the level of threat I pose to him.
I instinctively take a step back and hold my hands up defensively, then squeak when I realize I’m flashing him my tits again, and cover them with my hands. “Whoa, no need to look at me like that. I’m not trying to possess you. I didn’t even know that was a thing I could do.”
His eyes stay narrowed at me, their unnaturally dark, almost black shade making the expression even more intense. “No? Then what are you doing? Why are you naked? If you’re trying to seduce me, that won’t work either. I’m happily engaged.”
Now it’s my turn to glare at him. “Uh, you’re the one who’s parked in front of my house in the middle of the night, lurking in his car crocheting. Stop assuming that I want anything other than to know what the hell you’re doing out here.”
His tense posture eases a little, and he rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry. You have to be careful in my line of work, and it’s not every night that I see a ghost. Well, actually I do, but he’s a dog, not a person.”
A million questions race through my mind, and they come pouring out of me with no filter. “What kind of job has you crocheting in your car at 1 am? And how can you see me? What was that about a ghost dog? There are other ghosts around here?!”
The man’s brows shoot up in alarm. “Wow, okay. Um, one second…” He reaches behind him into the backseat and digs around until he comes up with something. “Here, if you want to talk, can you at least put this on?” he asks, holding the black ball of fabric out the window.
I take it and shake it out to find that he’s passed me an oversized hoodie. “Thanks,” I say sheepishly, putting it over my body as quickly as possible as he politely averts his eyes. “Okay, I’m decent.”
He looks back up and nods, and hits the button to disengage the locks on the car door. “If you want, you can get in. I’d offer to come out, but that might draw attention.”
“From who?” I ask, looking around at the empty suburban street. “You already found the neighborhood’s resident insomniac ghost.”
The man chuckles at my joke. He looks much less intimidating when he’s smiling. “True, but I wasn’t looking for you. I’m here to observe your neighbor. That’s my job.” He digs into his pocket and pulls out a business card, offering it to me.
On the card, there’s a silver foiled symbol of an eye, and beneath it the words “Max Pearce, Pearce Investigations” and a contact email and phone number.
“You’re a private investigator?” I ask, even more confused now. Why the hell would a P.I. need to monitor Betsy? My neighbor is one of the most innocuous people I’ve ever met. The most notable thing about her I can think of is that she has a tiny tattoo of a snake on her ankle that I thought was a worm for the longest time.
I peer into his car, trying to sense if this dude with messy red hair and freckles is going to try to harm me.
Eh, what’s the worst that could happen? I’m already dead.
I get into the passenger seat and shut the car door behind me. There’s a moment of awkward silence, each of us still wary of the other.
He clears his throat. “So…”
I look at the business card in my hand. “Max, right?” I ask, and he nods. “I’m Dot.”
“Uh, nice to meet you, Dot,” Max says, sounding unsure of whether or not he believes his own words.
“How is it that you can see and hear me, Max?” I ask, focusing on his reaction to see if it’s anything like Vincent’s false surprise the night he “stumbled” upon me.
He frowns slightly. “I’m a witch. My magic lets me sense things that are unseen, but I didn’t notice you until the moonlight hit you. It was sloppy to let my guard down enough to be caught unaware, but to be fair, I’m here to monitor a naga. I wasn’t expecting a ghost.”
His open expression and slightly self-deprecating tone hold no sign that he’s lying, but I’m still hesitant to believe him.
“You’re not here to try to con me? Because you’re too late, if that’s the case. I already lost my home and all my money. I’ve got nothing.”
Max’s mouth falls open, aghast. “You what?”
Okay, either he’s the world’s most convincing actor, or he’s telling the truth. “Never mind, forget it. What’s a naga? Also, witches are real? Magic is real?”
“A naga is a paranormal creature that’s part snake. And, yeah, I’m a witch.” He gives me a weak smile before continuing. “Also part succubus, but that’s not applicable to this situation.”
“What?!
“I said it wasn’t applicable!” he huffs. “I’m just doing my job.”
“No, not that,” I say, shaking my head. On the scale of shocking things, this dude being part succubus is nowhere near as high as finding out that snake people are real, and one was living next door. “You’re saying that Betsy is a snake person?”
His lips quirk at my reaction. “Yes.” He gives me an assessing look. “You don’t know much about paranormals, do you?”
“If I did, do you think I would’ve begged you not to run away?” I scoff. “You’re only the second person who’s seen me since I died, and the first one was a vampire con artist, so I can’t rely on any of the information he gave me.”
“Damn, I’m sorry,” Max says, sounding completely sincere. There’s a long pause where he seems to be trying to make a decision. He sighs. “Look, I need to focus back on observing your neighbor’s house tonight, but if you want, we can meet up another time and talk. You’re obviously, uh, having a hard time.” He looks at the hoodie that barely covers my ass. “I don’t feel right not doing what I can to help.”
“You’d do that?” My brow furrows in confusion and suspicion. This is starting to remind me of Vincent. “Why?”
He smiles softly. “Well, I like to think that I’m a decent person, and it would be a real dick move to not help you. But also, I happen to have some experience with ghosts—my fiancée’s dog is a spirit.”
So that’s the dog he mentioned. I try to come up with a reason how this offer could be a con, but Max already knows he has nothing to gain from helping me. I have nothing to give him.
“Thank you. I…” A lump forms in my throat as all of my confusion and isolation crash down on me as the dam holding them back fails now that I’ve found someone to talk to. “I really appreciate it.”
Max gives me a sad smile. “Of course. When would be good for you?”
“Dude, I’m dead, and I’m obviously not going anywhere.” I say, wiping away a tear that’s escaped with a weak laugh. “Whenever works for you, I’ll be here. My… uh, roommate isn’t home during the day on weekdays.”
“Ah okay.” Max looks curious, but doesn’t ask questions about my living situation. “I’ll drop by during the day then.”
“I really hope you do. I’d rather not have another person I have to swear ghostly vengeance on for ditching me.” I attempt to be lighthearted, but there’s a waver in my voice from the fear that I’ll never see him again. That I’ll lose my chance to get answers and not be so alone.
“I will,” Max says solemnly.
“Alright, well, I’ll let you get back to work then…” I open the car door but pause before getting out. “Wait, we’re not in danger from Betsy, are we?”
Max shakes his head. “You aren’t in any danger, and I have precautions to keep me safe.”
“I meant my roommate. Is she going to try to eat him or something?” I don’t like Noah, but I’m not about to let him get devoured by a snake lady.
Max lets out a surprised laugh. “No, she won’t eat him. She’s most likely not even a danger at all. I’m here to do more of a background check than anything else.”
Relief washes over me. Not because I care about Noah, but because if he gets eaten, then I won’t be able to get my full revenge. “Not that I care about him!” I blurt, and Max gives me a bemused look.
I scramble out of the car to escape my embarrassing outburst. “See you soon!” I say with a wave before heading back to the house.
As much as I try to fight it, a wave of overwhelming emotion hits me once I’m out of sight of Max’s car. Hidden behind one of the pillars on the porch, tears pour down my face.
Someone saw me.
He can help me make sense of what I am. I can finally have some answers.
More tears spill as I suck in a shaky breath.
Dammit, I don’t want to have hope. That’s what hurts me over and over. But I guess I’ll never learn, because in this moment, the hope for an existence that’s not so isolated and empty sparks to life inside me.