Chapter 8 Paranormal Paramour
Chapter eight
Paranormal Paramour
Cian
My mind is swirling with half-formed plans as I float down through the floors.
Trissa knows there’s a ghost in the house, and by some miracle, she’s not afraid.
If I can figure out a way to keep my wits about me and just talk to her, maybe we can eventually be…
something. I know now that she’s welcoming of my attention, which does help to ease some of the guilt that’s been eating at me.
A satisfied smile teases across my lips as I remember our earlier enticing interaction, if anything, she’s been coming on to me stronger since I’ve tried to back off.
Trissa comes into view and my smile fades as I take in her demeanor.
Her beautiful blue eyes are glassy with tears as she shakes her head and speaks into the phone.
In an instant I’m hovering just behind her, trying to listen in to what has her in such a state.
I hear Kyle’s voice and feel a wave of vexation rush through me as I listen to his cutting words.
Doesn’t he know when to fucking quit? The rat bastard will pay in blood if he ever tries to step foot in my house again.
I’m just about to break my own rules and reach out to try and comfort Trissa when her expression changes and I watch her eyes harden with resolve.
She spits venom back at him and ends the conversation not long after, getting in the last word and taking back some power for herself.
I swell with pride as I watch a timid little smile lift the left side of her lips.
I want to hold her, to tell her how amazing that display of courage was.
I’m buzzing with energy and her nearness is tempting me far more than I’d like to admit.
I desperately want to reach out and touch her, but as much as I want something to develop between us, I’m still not sure how to go about it, so I settle on a whispered, “Good girl”.
I blink when her phone dings. She hesitates for a minute before lifting it up and opening her messages.
I lean forward to read the text and blink again when I see the words I’d just spoken on her screen from an unknown number.
She writes something about a wrong number as an electric pulse courses down my spine and my skin tingles with energy.
Is that… I stare at her screen in shock, stomach fluttering with an implausible hope.
“Bad girl,” ding. My heart races.
“Funny girl,” ding. Holy fuck!
“Clever girl,” ding. I arch my brow and add quickly, “Add a dinosaur GIF from Jurassic park!” Ding.
This is really happening. How is this happening?
Trissa laughs and lets out a little snort and I flush with pleasure knowing that I made her laugh.
Me! She starts typing and I hold my breath as I lean in to see the message.
Trissa: What are you doing? Do I know you?
Shit! What do I say? Hi, it’s me… the ghost you’ve been dry humping, sup? I groan inwardly and slap a hand over my face. My stomach clenches with nerves and I can hear my heart beating in my ears. Say something, you dolt! I start rambling nervously, desperate to not fuck this up,
“Good girl wasn’t what you wanted to hear, so I figured I’d keep guessing until I found one that caught your attention.
” There! That sounds convincing… right? Or does it sound desperate?
I panic and my gut bottoms out as I quickly keep talking, “Should have led with dinosaurs. Silly me. Girls love dinosaurs.” Ding.
Girls love dinosaurs? Fifty years of daydreaming about conversation and the best I can come up with is ‘girls love dinosaurs’. Ugh! I slowly pull my hand away from my face and chance a look at Trissa. She’s smiling! She’s typing… Oh fates, I think I might have emotional whiplash.
Trissa: Interesting strategy, and wonderful deflection attempt. Do I know you?
Damn. I open my mouth to respond but hesitate.
A terrible thought pops into my head, and as quickly as it pops up, it grows roots.
If I tell her everything now and I fumble, that’s it, I’m done.
If I don’t mention the ghost thing it’s kind of like I have two chances to get things right, and a first-row seat to her reaction.
I whisper the words like a prayer, “Do you want to?” Please, please say yes.
Trissa: Maybe.
“I’ll take it,” my heart matches the frantic beating of hers as I watch emotion dance over her beautiful features. I follow her fingers with my eyes as she types out her next message.
Trissa: I’m Trissa.
She’s staring at her phone, waiting on my response. A pang of guilt rattles around in my chest, but I quickly push it aside. I want her, and this is how I’m going to win her. She’s captivating and I greedily anticipate her reaction as I rasp, “Beautiful. Hello, Trissa. I’m Cian.”
I watch, fascinated as she reads the text and her eyebrows scrunch up adorably. She purses her lips before she whispers, “Cy-anne…Sea-in…Kee-an?”
A shiver rushes down my spine and I moan softly at the sound of my name on her lips. She scrunches her brow and types while I’m left, yet again, fighting for self-control.
Trissa: How is that pronounced? Like Key-an? Cian?
I bite my lip and shudder again savoring every minute of this. I can’t recall ever having such visceral reactions to someone, even when I was alive. That in itself is arousing in a way that makes everything feel so much more vivid.
“Yes, just like that. It’s an Irish name,” ding.
Trissa hums in approval and whispers, “Oh, yes please!” I chuckle as she lays back on the couch, tucking her feet in and rearranging the blanket. She brings her phone up to her chest and her fingers slide over the screen.
Trissa: Oh nice! Are you from Ireland? Do you have an accent?
“No, I was born and raised in Massachusetts. My father came over with his parents when he was young. They started a small shop that my dad took over after my grands passed. He still had a bit of an accent, but it sort of faded over time. I’ve been told I have a slight lilt, but no, not really,” ding.
My heart aches talking about my family, but I suppose in a way its cathartic. Trissa bites her bottom lip and a little blush spreads over her nose.
Trissa: Aww, that’s so cool. Sounds like you may be local. I’m in a small town in Mass called Kismet Falls, have you heard of it?
Shit… indecision sits like a weight in my stomach.
I don’t want to outright lie to her, but I also can’t make myself too available yet.
Plus, if I tell her too much and she tries to look me up this whole thing will blow up in my face.
Pretty sure a fifty-year-old obituary is not the kind of dirt you want to find on a prospective paramour.
A flash of concern bolts through me as I realize that Trissa’s sense of self-preservation is incredibly low, if a ghost is more concerned about disclosing whereabouts than she is.
“I’ve been to Kismet Falls, it’s a beautiful place. I’m currently floating around a bit, but yes I’m local to New England.” Ding. There. No lies.
Trissa sucks in a breath and starts shaking her foot under the blankets.
She rests her head back and closes her eyes for a minute, bringing her face closer to mine.
I carefully lean back to put some space between us, although that’s really the last thing I want to do.
I know from earlier that she wants me to touch her, but when I do I lose my head.
I need to get to know her. I want to mean something to her, not just fulfill some paranormal fantasy.
I swallow thickly and whisper, “I’ve been a little lost since my dad died, no one that I really care about to visit anymore.
But… I could find my way to Kismet Falls for someone special,” ding.
Trissa lifts her head to look at her phone and a slow smile stretches her lips. She stares at the text for a long while, and if it wasn’t for the smile on her face I would be shaking with nerves. Her eyes look a little misty as she types.
Trissa: I’m so sorry about your dad. My parents are gone too, and I know all about feeling lost. And alone. This is probably way too much to drop on a total stranger, but there’s no one else I can really talk to about this without feeling guilty for all of my baggage.
Tears are streaking slowly over Trissa’s flushed cheeks, and she sniffs as she continues to type. My heart kicks up even faster and I hold my breath as I wait to read what she types next, feeling lousy as I resign myself to watching her suffer.
Trissa: My parents were killed in a car accident.
I was at a friend’s house for a sleepover.
They were having a date night. This will probably sound nuts, but I knew.
I had a nightmare that night… it was so realistic.
I watched as my dad slowed down the car and pulled off to the side of the road.
I watched my parents embrace each other and then just sit there…
I saw the headlights in the rearview mirror, I screamed at them to move…
to do something. My mom looked spooked, and it was almost like we could see each other then.
She told me she loved me… that everything would be okay.
Trissa sobs and her shoulders wrack with the force of her sorrow.
My chest squeezes painfully and I curse.
I wish I could comfort her without turning corporeal.
I want to help her without having to worry about inappropriate bodily responses.
I gasp as I feel that rippling sensation run through me again, but this time when it does, the ripples are visible.
A deep green viscous-looking substance flows out of my body, dancing and flowing almost like Seth’s shadows.
My heart ticks up a notch and I reach out to touch it, wondering what the fuck is happening now.
I expect my hand to pass through it like smoke, but it doesn’t.
It has a consistency akin to slime. It’s cold and slightly sticky feeling, and I try not to gag as I attempt to push it back into me.
I’m panicking now because, honestly, what the fuck.
I glance at Trissa and thank the stars her crying has slowed down, but now she’s typing again.
Shit. I need to figure this out now. I take a shaky breath and try to concentrate on willing the slime back to wherever the fuck it came from, praying that it works the same way as my new air trick.
Slowly, very slowly, the slime recedes and swirls its way back into my body, rippling along the surface of my form before disappearing completely.
Thank fuck. My relief is short-lived, as Trissa finishes typing and I lean in quickly to read what she wrote so that I can respond.
Trissa: I don’t talk about that part a lot, but the dream is a big part of why I’m terrified of vehicles now.
It’s kind of taken over my life actually…
I know we don’t know each other and this is probably the worst way to introduce myself, but it’s like a huge part of being in my life.
Because I don’t drive. Or like, leave my house. Ever…
Trissa: Shit, I’m so sorry. I’m reading this all back now and I sound absolutely unhinged. PLEASE just pretend that didn’t happen.
“No, you don’t,” ding. I’m panting, trying to breathe around all the adrenaline coursing through my body.
If I didn’t have to lean over her shoulder to see her side of the conversation this would be so much easier.
Nearness to her is my new obsession, but I’m pretty sure it’s also what’s causing all these new feelings and…
abilities. Adjusting to it all is disorienting and so fucking exhausting.
“I’m so sorry about your parents, Trissa.
I used to have a friend who was very into…
erm, the occult. Some people say you can see things in dreams, things that happen in real life.
It’s awful that you had to experience that, even in a dream, but it doesn’t make you crazy.
I think however you have to heal and deal with the trauma is legitimate,” ding.
I watch Trissa read my words and breathe a little easier as her dark expression evaporates before my eyes. She smiles again, and I decide to take another risk to help lighten the mood.
“Besides, all of my favorite activities are best done behind closed doors.” I take a quick breath before I lose my nerve and add, “Winking face, and a heart,” ding.
Trissa’s mouth falls open and she lets out a whoop before roaring with laughter. “Oh my LANTA! This is a fan-fucking-tastic day!”
I grin and fold my arms over the top of the couch, resting my chin on them. I’m far enough away that I won’t materialize as I settle in but close enough to smell her delicious scent. My confidence grows with each laugh that I earn from her, and I marvel again at this bizarre stroke of luck.