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Falling for the Ghost of You(6)

By:Nicole Christie


Who knows how long I would have stayed there, like a girl-shaped doorstop. Moving would make it more real. But someone’s yanking the door open, and without any help from me, I’m being easily raised to a standing position.

“Hey. You okay?” my rescuer says in a voice that I can only describe as sex on a stick.

I find myself being led outside, the door slamming shut behind us. I kind of know what I’m going to find when I look up, but still, the up-close beauty of Hot Guy’s face renders me speechless—even more speechless, I mean. Is that a thing?

It’s Hot Guy. Of course it is.

His eyes. I can’t look away from them. Dark and intense, thickly lashed. They burn and smolder with intensity, vitality, charisma…sex…

My gaze drops from his, only to be captured again by his mouth. God, that mouth is sinful—all seduction and danger. It sends shivers through me, but the hot, turned-on kind. Not the I’m-cold-get-me-a-blanket kind.

What do I mean? I don’t know! Hot Guy’s still holding onto my arm. God, snap out of it! I pull away and try to gather myself. How embarrassing!

Wow, he’s tall. Taller than I thought—maybe a few inches over six feet. And he smells so good. Like fresh laundry and something else, something clean and autumn-y. The scent makes my stomach quiver in weird and exciting ways.

“Are you alright?” Hot Guy repeats while I gawk at him.

“I’m not crying,” I snap, unfortunately finding my voice. “I’m just having one of those days.”

“Sure,” he says agreeably, backing off.

I notice he’s checking out my ass. No, wait, it feels weird back there. Is that…is that a breeze?

My mouth drops open in absolute horror. “Oh, God, no. Don’t even tell me…the back of my pants are ripped, aren’t they?”

Hot Guy cocks his head to the side and glances at my rear end again. “Okay, I won’t tell you.”

I can’t help the groan that escapes me. “Really?” I say to the sky. I notice he glances up, too, wondering who I’m talking to. To him, I ask, “How bad is it?”

“Scale of one to ten? Or do you mean how much of your hot pink rabbit panties can I actually see right now?”

I immediately clap my hands over my butt. “Oh, crap!”

Hot Guy chuckles a little, and I’m not too distressed to notice how sexy a sound it is. I can’t help the blush that warms my cheeks. I am so—wait, what is he doing?!

Hot Guy is unbuttoning his shirt, and as I watch, mesmerized, he shrugs out of it, and hands it to me. I automatically take it, because I am distracted by the sleekly muscled swimmer’s build revealed in the gray t-shirt he’s wearing under the dress shirt. It’s just ridiculous how hot Hot Guy is. Crazy ridiculous!

Sigh!

My heart is doing some unusual things right now, but let me tell you, I’m not the kind of girl whose head gets turned by every cute guy that walks past. But this guy is beyond the everyday normal. He’s like, walk out of every woman’s fantasy gorgeous.

I’ve got to stop staring at him.

I clear my throat, and force myself to look up at his oh my god flawless face. “Thanks,” I say, holding the shirt up. “Um. If you want this shirt back, I guess I could mail it to you.”

But Hot Guy shakes his head slightly. “Don’t worry about it.” He opens the door to Taco Bill’s, and holds it open for the elderly couple that totters out.

Oh, it’s the old guy that I threw Matt’s present at! He sees me and shoots me a bushy glare. “Hooligan!” he huffs, shuffling past me.

“I’m so sorry!” I call after him, but he just throws a hmph over his shoulder.

I am even more humiliated, if that’s possible. I sneak a glance at Hot Guy. He looks amused, his beautiful mouth curved up in an adorable smirk. I’m so glad the odds are I’ll never see him again.

“Hope your day gets better,” he says, and disappears into Taco Bill’s.

Thanks, Hot Guy. I’m pretty sure it can’t get much worse.







Chapter 3



I head straight to Lauren’s. She makes her weird soup, while I go on a tirade, verbally assaulting Matt and Rachel with every bad name I can think of. Sometime during this madness, Lauren’s twelve year old twin sisters slink into the kitchen and watch me curse and fume with wide fascinated eyes. I don’t get really mad often, but when I do, I tend to go a little bit Hulk. Ish.

Two hours later, I feel better. Sort of. I go home to take a shower, and I cry a little under the soothing hot spray. Soon, my tears dry up and I begin to feel really stupid. And pissed. I keep thinking of Matt and Rachel together, sneaking around and rubbing their hands together gleefully...laughing, kissing, having sex…ugh!