Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
KENNEDY
Iwake up to the sound of birds chirping outside the bedroom window. I roll over, my back floating an inch above the mattress, and face the tattered canopy above, a reminder that despite all the work Theo has put into cleaning the house, there’s still so much that needs to be done.
I didn’t follow him last night when he abandoned me after our kiss. I had no doubt he needed space. My concern about scaring him off came to fruition, but I don’t actually think he was afraid of me. It seemed more like he was afraid of himself. Afraid of his own feelings.
Padding over to the window, I summon my hands and open it with a groan.
The air is cold against the exposed skin, the temporary warmth from the day before long gone.
Without the snow, the forest looks barren.
The limbs creak and sway with the wind, and a fierce breeze gusts through the window.
I close it tight and summon the white knit sweater I arrived in, also disappearing my physical hands.
I slept in my leggings, though I shifted into my spirit form before falling asleep. I’ve got to say, I sure have enjoyed the simplicity of getting ready each day. Never having to wash my hair or shimmy my way into tight jeans is a liberating feeling.
I assume Theo is holed up in the library, so I head down the hall and slip through the cracked door. Despite cleaning, the air is still musty. Perhaps on another warm day, Theo will let me open all the windows and air the place out.
I find him sunk into a leather armchair as I enter the room, his head in his hands. He’s still in his physical body, and I wonder if he’s been awake all night.
“Hey,” I say gently.
He lifts his head, eyes rimmed red and puffy.
Has he been crying?
I rush over to him and hover close to his slumped shoulder. “Are you alright?”
He crosses his arms, holding his stomach tightly. “I’m so sorry, Kennedy. I didn’t mean to lose control like that. It just happened.”
He’s apologizing? Does he regret what happened? Does he not remember I’m the one who started it?
“Theo, you don’t have to apologize,” I tell him sternly. “I’m okay.” Then, with less gravitas, I add, “I…liked it.”
“You did?” he asks, mouth agape, eyes glued to mine.
I realize then that this is all completely new to him. Not only has he been a ghost for over a century, but he’s been all alone in this house. Being with a woman must be like relearning how to write your own name, or trying to remember the lyrics to a song you once knew.
It might take some practice, but based on how eager he was last night, I don’t think it will take long for him to feel confident again.
But now is not the time for that. Right now, I just need him to know that everything is okay. That he did nothing wrong.
I nod fervently, making sure he sees the glimmer of want in my eyes.
His body relaxes, and with that, his physical body flits away. His spirit form rises from the leather chair and flits to the space beside me.
“I was worried I ruined everything,” he murmurs hesitantly. “I—” He drops his chin as it quivers just slightly. “I like you being here,” he confesses. “I don’t want you to leave.”
His admission spears straight through my heart, and I feel my spirit being tugged closer to his. “I don’t want to leave,” I say.
The electricity I felt last night crackles between us, and I feel a blanket of warmth passing over my body. I feel his presence as if I were still in my skin. Tempted, I reach out at the same time Theo does, and our hands press together.
We’re touching. Even without our physical bodies, I can feel his fingers as they tangle with mine.
Theo’s eyes drop to the space between us and his eyes go wide. At first, I think he’s just as shocked as I am at the sight of our hands entwined, but he’s focused on something else. Something I can’t see.
My stomach flutters, pulse racing. I haven’t felt my own heartbeat in five days, yet it’s pounding relentlessly against my chest.
“Theo…I—”
“It’s blue,” he whispers, and I have no clue what he's referring to.
“What’s blue?”
Finally he lifts his eyes back to mine. Light blue, like a cloudless sky.
“Our string,” he says carefully. “It’s blue.”