He carried me, his steps perfectly paced and heavy, echoing in the hallway like they were coming for me and knew exactly where I was hiding. This wasn’t Will. I knew it even before I slipped my fingers into the back of his hair and felt the same little scars I’d come across years ago. But in this moment, in the dark where I was someone else and he was someone else, I didn’t pull away. Why wasn’t I pulling away? God, he felt good. In my arms. I’d almost forgotten. For just a few minutes, he was my ghost back in the house. Taunting me. Playing with me. Making me feel things I wanted to feel. I’d
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