Chapter 6 #4
“Hello.” I keep my voice calm. “I’m Connor. I’d prefer if you didn’t enter without an invitation.” Skye told me the ghosts have been given rules about that kind of thing and are usually respectful, so she’s testing my limits.
“I won’t do it again,” she says, slinking forward, and suddenly I suspect where this is going. “Not unless you want me to.” She winks. Are those false eyelashes?
Oh boy.
“What’s your name?”
In the next second, she’s sitting on my bed, her hand on my thigh—solidly on my thigh. She must be doing whatever the ghosts here do to be visible to everyone. “I’m Maisie. Welcome to Mannix Estate. Is there anything I can do to make you… comfortable?”
I move her hand. She puts it right back, so I grab it again and hang on to it. That might have been a mistake, since she giggles and bats her lashes. “Ooh, I’ve been looking for a man who can take charge.”
Fuck my life.
“Maisie, I’m not that man.”
For a split second, her face falls, but then she rallies and goes back to smiling coyly and batting her lashes so fast, I should be able to feel a breeze.
“Aww, you’re just commitment-shy. I’m not asking for promises… just a good time.”
Holy mother of god. How is this happening to me? I’ve been attacked by ghosts more times than I can count, but never have I been propositioned by one.
“I’m gay,” I blurt. “Have you met my uncle Norval yet? He can tell you. I’m super gay. No women,” I add, just in case.
The flirty mask disappears, and she sighs heavily, sagging with disappointment. “Really? Are you sure?”
“Very sure,” I affirm. “So very completely sure. I’m one hundred percent gay.” And not interested in fucking a ghost.
The door opens, and I jerk my head up as Kieran walks in. His gaze sweeps over me, takes in Maisie sitting on my bed, us seemingly holding hands, and turns contemptuous.
I drop Maisie’s hand like it’s poison. She doesn’t seem to notice.
“Hi, Kieran. Have you met Connor?” Her smile, genuine this time, is warm and much nicer than the coquettish look she gave me before.
“Yes, I’ve met Connor,” Kieran says, unsmiling, as he closes the door and goes to sit on the end of his bed.
“I was just telling Maisie that I’m super gay.” I regret the words the second they leave my mouth, but there’s no way to call them back. And they do make Kieran pause in unlacing his shoes.
“He was,” she says ruefully. “It’s a great disappointment to me that you hire so many gay men, Kieran. Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to—”
“I’m sorry, Maisie, but as I told you, it would be against my ethics. I’m in charge here. I could never be with someone I was responsible for.” He says it with just enough regret that I do a double take. He can’t seriously want to…?
“Oh, well. Can’t blame a girl for trying,” Maisie declares, standing and flouncing toward the door. “You boys have a good night.” She pops out.
Kieran waits a beat, then says, “Is she gone, or…?”
“She’s gone,” I confirm, and he flops back on the bed.
“Sorry about that. We should have warned you about Maisie, but things have been so chaotic…” He turns his head to look at me. “I hope she didn’t make you too uncomfortable. And thanks for not hurting her feelings.”
I shrug, relieved that he doesn’t secretly want to fuck a ghost. “She’s sweet. Misguided, but sweet. Does she do that a lot?”
“Not as much since Josh got here, but yeah. She picks up guests in the hallways and wrangles an invite back to their room for ‘fun.’ She’s looking for a man to look after her and seems to think sex is the best lure.”
“Do the men know she’s a ghost?” What the fuck is wrong with people?
Kieran winces. “Usually not until it’s too late. My understanding is that she can’t hold a corporeal form when… you know. So they find out then.”
Oh my god. I bite my lip, but a snort escapes.
“Yeah,” Kieran agrees, his lips twitching. “It’s less funny when you’re dealing with a screaming guest at midnight, but I haven’t had to do that for a while, so…” He chuckles.
“I bet they never covered that in any of your training.”
The laugh comes from deep in his chest and seems to catch him by surprise. “Uh, no, there wasn’t a section in any of the handbooks on how to deal with a guest who’s freaking out because he just fucked a ghost.”
For a second we just smile at each other, thinking about how fucking wild our lives are, and then his face settles back into serious lines and he hauls himself off the bed with a sigh. I guess he’s remembered that he doesn’t like me.
Too bad. Laughing Kieran is even hotter than infuriated Kieran.
“I talked to Gabe,” I volunteer as he opens the top drawer of the bureau and pulls out a T-shirt and boxers. Does he seriously put his pj’s away every morning instead of leaving them on the bed? That takes organized to extremes.
Unless he normally sleeps naked?
No, Skye’s been staying in here with him. I don’t know Kieran well—yet—but I absolutely know he’s not the kind of guy to sleep naked in the same room as a colleague—or even a friend. Which means he’s the kind of guy who folds and puts away his pajamas every morning.
Suddenly, the overnight bag I left in the corner seems to have a spotlight on it. Is he going to judge me for not unpacking? Who the hell unpacks for just a couple nights? Hell, I once stayed in a hotel for three weeks and lived out of my bag.