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A smile hooks the corner of his mouth. It’s almost as devastating as the dimples. “Flirting won’t win you any favors, Harriet.”
“Ah. Harriet. Best you get used to seeing me. I’ll be occupying all your nights.”
“That’s not what you said the other night,” he whispers close to my ear.
Because not even the people who are supposed to love me can find a way to do it. Because I’m so fucking tired of trying, only to come up short. All the time.
“Would you rather I make you work for it?” A slow smile tugs at one corner of my mouth. “I wouldn’t mind working for it,” I say lightly.
“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.”
“I think you’re bringing me back to life, Harriet.”
And then he ducks his head and kisses me.
hope you’re thinking of me. You make me hope, Harriet. You make me want. I am haunted by you.”
“Maybe I was always supposed to find you,” I rasp. Maybe, my heart adds, you were always supposed to be mine.
points to you,” he says, his voice low. Blue eyes flick up and hold mine. A sad, knowing smile edges at one side of his mouth. “It points right at you.”
I place a candle in the window and I remember. I remember and I wait.
I was sent to haunt Harriet, but she ended up haunting me.
