him as that bastard ghost who’d interrupted her study then buggered off back to his own life. But he also wanted to remember her so he could meet her properly. So he could see if what he felt was real or just a desire to experience life through her while he was in limbo.
She turned around, but there was no smile on her lips this time. “I can’t help you with that.”
He knew that, but that wasn’t what he was trying to say. “You’ll remember me, you’ll remember the kiss, you’ll remember me in your room.” He looked at his hands. They seemed solid to him, the same as they’d always been.
“I know what you’re trying to say. And it’s fine. I’ll friend you on Facebook, and maybe that will be enough of a jolt.”
“And if it’s not?”
She looked away, and he knew in that moment that she’d had similar thoughts. For a moment neither of them spoke. Then she picked up the laptop and sat on the bed with him. “It’s bonus time, right? So maybe I get the same benefit. I can see if I like you enough to find you when you wake up.”
Tate raised his eyebrows. “Like test-driving a boyfriend?”
The sparkle was back in her eyes as she nodded.
“What if I don’t wake up and you want someone with a body?” The thought that he might never wake was pressing closer and closer and sinking its claws in deeper and deeper. This was a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from and the only light was Eloise. He knew if he went too far from her he would become lost in the mist that waited. He was feeling colder. Something was happening to his body but he didn’t know what, only that Eloise could bring him back if he strayed too far. He had to hold on to thoughts of her.
“I think you’re jumping ahead again. I’m still getting to know you—I haven’t even decided if you’re dating material yet.” She rolled onto her stomach with the laptop in front of her.
Tate turned and lay next to her, aware of how close her body was to his, the way her leg should be touching his. He should be able to smell her perfume or shampoo or something, but there was nothing. The same way he’d tasted nothing with the kiss, just a hint of heat and the promise of what could be if he ever got himself back in one piece. He looked at her. “You kissed me.”
Eloise tilted her head, her lips not far from his. “That was your idea.” But the way she looked at him suggested that she thought it had been a very good one.
He nodded, as if considering, then he leaned forward and kissed her again. She didn’t pull away. Her eyes closed, and he cupped her cheek, wanting to feel her skin against his palm. He drew back first, frustrated with the lack of sensation.
“Do you feel anything when I kiss you?” he whispered.
“Not enough.” She glanced at her computer, and he knew he was distracting her. “But enough to know I’d like to try it in person—if you know what I mean.”
“I do.” But he also knew that if he had a body he wouldn’t have the luxury of lying on her bed after only just meeting her. “Okay, let’s talk bacteria.”
“I thought you didn’t know what microbiology was?”
“Lucky guess.” That and looking at the papers on her desk. As she talked about the various definitions and species, a light-headedness crept over him. The room shifted in and out of focus, then dulled at the edges. He closed his eyes and tried to steady himself.
Could a ghost faint?
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t think so.” His stomach turned, and vertigo caused his world to shift and spin. Then nausea brought a crashing wave that sucked the colors out of the world and dumped him somewhere else.
“Eloise?” He put his hand out but there was nothing there to grab. He stumbled, his limbs heavy and numb. He was under anesthesia again, the cold creeping through him and the mist closing around him. More surgery. How badly was he hurt? He turned around slowly, but there was only cold, grey mist. And he was surrounded.
His gut
She turned around, but there was no smile on her lips this time. “I can’t help you with that.”
He knew that, but that wasn’t what he was trying to say. “You’ll remember me, you’ll remember the kiss, you’ll remember me in your room.” He looked at his hands. They seemed solid to him, the same as they’d always been.
“I know what you’re trying to say. And it’s fine. I’ll friend you on Facebook, and maybe that will be enough of a jolt.”
“And if it’s not?”
She looked away, and he knew in that moment that she’d had similar thoughts. For a moment neither of them spoke. Then she picked up the laptop and sat on the bed with him. “It’s bonus time, right? So maybe I get the same benefit. I can see if I like you enough to find you when you wake up.”
Tate raised his eyebrows. “Like test-driving a boyfriend?”
The sparkle was back in her eyes as she nodded.
“What if I don’t wake up and you want someone with a body?” The thought that he might never wake was pressing closer and closer and sinking its claws in deeper and deeper. This was a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from and the only light was Eloise. He knew if he went too far from her he would become lost in the mist that waited. He was feeling colder. Something was happening to his body but he didn’t know what, only that Eloise could bring him back if he strayed too far. He had to hold on to thoughts of her.
“I think you’re jumping ahead again. I’m still getting to know you—I haven’t even decided if you’re dating material yet.” She rolled onto her stomach with the laptop in front of her.
Tate turned and lay next to her, aware of how close her body was to his, the way her leg should be touching his. He should be able to smell her perfume or shampoo or something, but there was nothing. The same way he’d tasted nothing with the kiss, just a hint of heat and the promise of what could be if he ever got himself back in one piece. He looked at her. “You kissed me.”
Eloise tilted her head, her lips not far from his. “That was your idea.” But the way she looked at him suggested that she thought it had been a very good one.
He nodded, as if considering, then he leaned forward and kissed her again. She didn’t pull away. Her eyes closed, and he cupped her cheek, wanting to feel her skin against his palm. He drew back first, frustrated with the lack of sensation.
“Do you feel anything when I kiss you?” he whispered.
“Not enough.” She glanced at her computer, and he knew he was distracting her. “But enough to know I’d like to try it in person—if you know what I mean.”
“I do.” But he also knew that if he had a body he wouldn’t have the luxury of lying on her bed after only just meeting her. “Okay, let’s talk bacteria.”
“I thought you didn’t know what microbiology was?”
“Lucky guess.” That and looking at the papers on her desk. As she talked about the various definitions and species, a light-headedness crept over him. The room shifted in and out of focus, then dulled at the edges. He closed his eyes and tried to steady himself.
Could a ghost faint?
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t think so.” His stomach turned, and vertigo caused his world to shift and spin. Then nausea brought a crashing wave that sucked the colors out of the world and dumped him somewhere else.
“Eloise?” He put his hand out but there was nothing there to grab. He stumbled, his limbs heavy and numb. He was under anesthesia again, the cold creeping through him and the mist closing around him. More surgery. How badly was he hurt? He turned around slowly, but there was only cold, grey mist. And he was surrounded.
His gut
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