Good Spirits (Ghosted, #1)

by B.K. Borison

I’ve wondered if I worked hard enough at my bruised and broken bits, if I could be shiny again, too. I’ve wondered if anyone might ever see me as something precious.

“Ah,” he says. “That’s right. You thought I was a fantasy that first night.” His eyes flash with something cocky and knowing. “I’m your dream man.” I snort. “Let’s not get carried away.”

Because I’ve always been able to make my own happiness when the people around me decide I’m not worth the trouble.

“Feels nice,” he slurs. I retrace my path along his jaw. “What does?” His arms tighten around me. “Holding you,” he says, and I can feel his mouth move against my skin. “’S been a while since I’ve had a hug,” he adds, quieter.

“You’re the first thing in a hundred years to make me feel anything at all, Harriet York, and I don’t think that’s an accident.”

“It’s a thing people do,” she finally says. I laugh into my fist. “I’d like to be a person with you, Harriet.”

“You look like a dream,” he murmurs. “You don’t dream.” I laugh. “I do. I dream of you.” His voice is low. “Every time I close my eyes, it’s you I see. You I want.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Harriet.”