Falling for the Ghost of You Page 5

  Jane tugs on a loose curl. “You’re right. I won’t even tell her about Emmy. Knowing her, she’d fly straight to Atlanta to help out. But, gosh, I hate lying to her.”

  “It will be fine,” I say firmly as I start the car. “Mom will have the fun she deserves, you’ll be taking care of your daughter, and I’ll be safe with Lauren. It will all work out.”

  I wish I could believe my own words, considering I’ve just made myself homeless.

  I find myself at the airport for the second time in two days. With one last hug and a reminder to lock up before I leave, Jane hurries off toward her gate.

  Okay, now what? I can buy maybe a day or two alone at the apartment, but that's it. Maybe I could hide in the closet every time Jane's neighbor came over to check on things?

  Yeah, I can definitely see that going badly when the neighbor decides to get nosy and opens the door—ending with me being arrested for something.

  What am I going to do?

  I call Lauren for real this time to see if she has any ideas. She tries to ask her mom if I can stay over, even for a few days, but her mom freaks out on her, so that's a no.

  "What are you gonna do?" Lauren wants to know.

  "I don't know," I reply, trying not to let the panic creep into my voice. "I'll think of something."

  I hang up with Lauren, then I flop down on Jane's couch, scrolling through my pitifully short list of contacts for ideas.

  I stop on the last name. A tiny seed of hope sprouts in my chest. But did I dare call him?

  Do I have a choice?

  I don't call. I decide to just show up. I don't know. Somewhere in my head I get the idea that it will be harder to turn me down if I show up on his doorstep with my suitcases and a sad panda face.

  Am I really doing this?

  I am.

  I've been by the house once before, when Mom gave me a quick tour.

  Bill's new house (our house, too) is a sprawling mansion with a private drive, and a stone fountain in the courtyard. I think it looks like a Mediterranean villa, with the red tiled rooftops and the big gleaming windows. Inside is just as gorgeous. I love the vaulted ceilings and the elegant curving staircase. Also, the house has seven bedrooms and eight bathrooms!

  I can't even picture me and Mom living there. What would we do with all that space?

  But those are happy thoughts for another day.

  I pull around back to where the pool house is located, next to the Olympic sized pool, of course.

  Slowly, I get out of my car, more and more unsure about my plan. Should I bring a suitcase to look more pathetic? No, that's dumb. If he says no, I'll feel ridiculous. Maybe I should just go.

  No, I can't. I don't have anywhere to go. If he says no, I'm screwed.

  The pool house is a cute little home matching the style of the main house. It looks smaller than I remember, and I just pray it has more than one room.

  The lights are on. He's home. Taking a deep breath, I knock briskly on the door. And I wait.

  Wow, he's taking a really long time to answer. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and prepare to knock again.

  The door opens and, I just barely stop myself from rapping my fist on his chest.

  His bare chest.

  Oh. My. God.

  Shirtless Zane is a revelation. He is all smooth honey colored skin and sleek muscles. His shoulders are broad and dense, and his chest and ab muscles are so clearly defined, they could have been carved from granite.

  My eyes continue their journey down to his slim waist, and...oh, my. The top button of his jeans is undone.

  For some reason, that undone button strikes me as the sexiest thing ever. Pure lust explodes in my body at the sight of it.

  So hot!

  "Violet."

  Zane's raspy voice snaps me out of my sex-crazed coma. He runs a hand through his tousled, seriously cute, just-woke-up hair. "What are you doing here?"

  "Um." I clear my throat nervously. "I kind of need a place to stay."

  In a rush of words, I explain my situation. He listens silently, his expression neutral, leaning an arm against the door jamb. I am totally distracted by his bulging biceps.

  "I promise I'll stay out of your way," I conclude. "You won't even know I'm here.

  A slow smile tugs the corners of his mouth upwards. "Somehow I doubt that."

  He opens the door wider, and I take that as an invitation to carefully slip past him. Um, yum, he smells like warm sexy male, just out of bed.

  I glance around at my new surroundings. It's a little bigger than the old apartment, with a simple floor plan. The rectangle-shaped living room is sparsely decorated, with an L-shaped couch and a recliner angled toward a huge impressive-looking flat screen TV. I note with amusement that the entertainment center holds what appears to be every kind of gaming machine known to man. There's not much else: a glass coffee table in front of the couch, a couple of floor lamps, and a fancy bookcase crammed full of leather bound classics.

  The small open kitchen is to the left, and I'm glad to find it neat and clean—no dirty dishes piled in the sink, or empty pizza boxes on the counter.

  There's a short hallway directly across from the front door which I assume leads to the bedrooms and bathrooms.

  I'm about to go check it out when a tall stunningly beautiful girl suddenly appears from an open room.

  My eyes widen in shock and dismay. Ms. Supermodel is wearing an itsy bitsy thong and nothing else.

  Without a hint of self consciousness, she sashays up to Zane, tossing back her long glossy hair. "Zane," she says in a husky accented voice. "Come back to bed."

  He smiles down at her as she wounds her slender arms around his neck. "Natassia, we have company."

  "Natassia" gives me a lazy once-over with dark exotic eyes. "Who is this? She come to party with us?"

  What? Ew!

  Zane sees my horrified reaction and smirks. "No. This is my step sister. Why don't you get dressed?"

  Supermodel pouts prettily. She stretches up to whisper something in his ear, making him chuckle sexily. He puts a hand on her hip and murmurs something back.

  What the hell? I'm standing there awkwardly, trying to look everywhere but at them. Why am I the only one embarrassed here? They're the half-naked ones!

  Natassia mutters something in another language, then stalks back to the room, hips swaying seductively. Zane's eyes seem glued to her butt.

  "I'll be right back," he says to me, then follows her into the room, shutting the door behind him.

  I'm rooted to the spot, waiting. Should I leave? They better not be having sex in there.

  It feels like hours have passed when they both finally reappear. Natassia, to my relief, has on clothes. She's wearing a thin gray dress, killer black boots, and a smug smile. Zane's thrown on a long-sleeved shirt, left unbuttoned. They both look romantic and sexy, like the cover of a racy spy novel.

  As she is leaving, Ms. Supermodel throws a smirking look in my direction. My polite smile slides off my face. She says something to Zane in her language (Russian, maybe?), over her shoulder. He just laughs and shakes his head.

  Once she's gone, I turn to him. "What did she say? Was it something about me?"

  Zane shuts the door and regards me through half-lidded eyes. "You don't want to know."

  I grimace and shift awkwardly. "Is she your girlfriend?"

  "I don't have a girlfriend. Got any bags?"

  "Um, yes, in the car."

  He holds up a hand. "Give me your keys, and I'll get them for you. Make yourself at home in the meantime."

  I fumble in my pocket for my keys, and toss it to him. "Thank you."

  "No problem. Be right back."

  Zane goes out the door, and I immediately start exploring. The kitchen has a sliding glass door that opens right to the pool. Nice.

  I head over to the hallway. The first room is small, and contains a queen sized bed, chest of drawers, and a antique looking vanity. The window shows a view of the main
house. I smile in relief. This will be perfectly fine for a month. Okay, let's check out the bathroom.

  It's right next door and looks completely unused, which is great. It has a toilet, a sink, and...

  No shower.

  I look around wildly. Where's the shower? Oh, this isn't good.

  I peek my head in the other room—Zane's room. My eyes skim over the huge bed, dresser, desk, bookcase...and there's another door. The master bath.

  I hear the front door and run back out. Zane has all my bags, carrying them like they weigh nothing.

  "Why doesn't my bathroom have a shower?" I demand, as if it's his fault.

  "Because it doesn't. The master bath has one," he says. He moves past me into my bedroom.

  I follow and watch him dump my bags on the bed. When I continue to stare at him, he raises an eyebrow. "Is there a problem?"

  "Well, yeah!" I throw my hands in the air. "This isn't going to work! I need to shower."

  "Shower in my bathroom," he says with a shrug.

  I stare at him, appalled. "I can't just walk into your room!"

  "Yeah, you'd knock first, I hope. It's no big deal, Violet."

  Zane walks back out and heads toward his room. He stops in the doorway and gestures me over. "Come on."

  I stare at him warily. I wish he would button his shirt. I would be able to think better. The open material frames his flawless skin and hard muscles. I seriously feel like a perv right now—I can't stop peeking at his chest.

  Meanwhile, Zane is waiting. He crosses his impressive arms over his impressive chest. "Don't be scared, little girl," he taunts. "I don't bite."

  Ugh! "I do," I growl, and push past him.

  "I'll have to remember that." He laughs.

  Did he take that to mean something dirty? I don't see how, but you can never tell with guys.

  Oh, never mind. I'm standing in Zane's room with him! It smells like him: a fresh clean scent and some kind of masculine body wash—and lingering above that, the exotic scent of a girl's perfume. I can't stop staring at his bed, where he probably just had sex with that Natassia girl. I blush bright red at the thought. I don't want to picture Zane having sex. Um, ew...right? Not hot at all.

  Nope.

  "I'm hardly ever home," his voice says from behind me. "I'm sure we can work out a schedule. Bathroom's right there."

  “Okay.”

  Cautiously, I check out the bathroom. It’s really nice, and big. Double sinks, a glass enclosed shower, and—ooh!

  “A jetted bathtub! I’ve always wanted to try one of those!” I exclaim, bending over for a closer inspection. “Are the jets adjustable?”

  “I believe they are.”

  Why does he sound so amused? I whip around and study him suspiciously. He smiles back innocently.

  “My back muscles get stiff sometimes,” I say, just to clarify. “Having something hot and hard aimed at me would definitely help me loosen up.”

  Zane only grins wider. “No doubt.”

  Oh, god, what did I just say?!

  “That’s not what—I meant the jets, not you!” I quickly backtrack. “Not that you would ever aim something hot and hard at me! I mean—what I was talking about was the jets, not your…not anything on you, that’s for sure!”

  I’m taking deep gasping breaths right now. Stop talking, Violet! Shut up! I collapse against the edge of the tub, seriously appalled at myself, and shaking with humiliation.

  “Violet.”

  Zane crouches down in front of me, and pats my knee. “It’s okay,” he says sympathetically. “I know what you meant.”

  I glare at him. “I wasn’t trying to sound like a perv! It’s your fault, answering the door shirtless, and then the naked girl with the…and then you and her—right in front of me! Well, no wonder dirty thoughts are in my head.”

  “I’m…sorry?”

  “Thank you.” I stand up abruptly. “Okay, well, I’m going to…go. I’ve got school tomorrow, and it’s…” I check my phone. “It’s eight o’ clock. Way past my bedtime. So…thanks for letting me stay. Bye, now.”

  I wouldn’t say I walked, so much as ran out of there.

  Yeah, no, that went great. I'm gonna go smother myself with a pillow now.

  ******

  Chapter 8

  "Beef and broccoli," Lauren announces, lifting the lid off the pan on the stove. The entire kitchen is filled with the savory aroma of beef and gravy. She takes a spoon from the drawer, scoops up some of the broth, and hands it to me.

  I blow on it a little to cool it down, then I take a cautious bite. "It's good!" I declare.

  I'm eating dinner at Lauren's tonight. We're babysitting the twins and baby Brianna while her mom works a double shift at the hospital.

  I love Brianna. She is the cutest little thing, with her blonde curls and wide gray eyes. She's so sweet and easygoing, too. She's teething right now, but only makes soft whimpering noises on my shoulder. It's so cute. I can tell by the way she's breathing that she's about to pass out for the night.

  "Rice still isn't done," Lauren announces, checking the pot. "Should be a few more minutes."

  "Okay," I say. "I'm going to put Brianna down. She's out."

  "Oh, can you tell the twins it's time to wash up for dinner?"

  I groan quietly. "Do I have to? I still haven't recovered from the time I caught them French kissing their Aiden Cross posters."

  Lauren laughs, even as she's making a face. "They were more embarrassed than you were."

  "Yeah, I've never seen that shade of red before on a human face."

  I carefully put the baby down in Lauren's mom's room. She gives a tiny sigh and rolls over on her side—so cute!

  I wonder what I would do if Mom ever told me she was pregnant? I'd be thrilled and horrified at the same time.

  I turn the baby monitor on and grab the other unit from its base so we can listen for Brianna. Then I go across the hall to the room Lauren and the twins share.

  "Dinner's ready soon," I say, poking my head in. "Lauren says to wash up."

  Thank goodness, all they're doing is painting their toenails. Identical heads lift up to look at me.

  "What're we having? It smells good," Ashley wants to know.

  "Beef and broccoli."

  The twins exchange grimaces.

  "It's good," I say before I turn to go.

  "Hey, V?"

  Kylie's voice stops me. "Yeah?"

  "Is it true you're living with a guy now?"

  "What?!" I glare at the giggling girls. "Were you guys eavesdropping again?"

  "Is he really hot?" one of the little monsters asks.

  "Do you sleep in the same bed?" The other one smirks.

  "No! And I'm not even—ugh! You know what?" I point a finger at them warningly. "Quit listening in! And I'm not sleeping with anyone!"

  "Is that why you're so grouchy, then?"

  The twins erupt in laughter. Dirty-minded little buggers. I stomp away.

  "Your sisters are evil," I tell Lauren as I come back into the kitchen. "They overheard us talking about my new living arrangements. They actually asked me if I’m sleeping with Zane!”

  Lauren laughs. “See, remember when you were complaining about being an only child? This is why I wanted to hit you.”

  “Yeah, I wanted a baby sister or brother, not pre teen demons.”

  “Ha, well, babies do eventually grow up.” Lauren checks the rice again. “Done. So, how’s your hot roommate doing?”

  “I haven’t really seen him,” I say with a shrug. I get four plates out of the cupboard and hand them to her so she can dish them up. “He’s almost never home, and when he is, he’s usually with a different hot girl. It’s like living at a frat house.”

  “Your mom would freak if she found out.”

  “I know! I talked to Jane this morning. She said the baby’s fever has gone down, they're really optimistic about his chances.”

  Lauren smiles in relief. “That’s great. How’s her daughter doing?
”

  “Holding up okay. The doctors are now saying he has a ninety percent chance of survival, which they’re thrilled with. Jane says she’ll probably have to fly back home before the end of the month, because by then she’ll have to replenish her stock.”

  “Has she talked to your mother yet?’

  “Yeah, but she’s kept her mouth shut. She really doesn’t want to spoil Mom’s happiness, and neither do I.” I take the plates that Lauren hands me and place them on the table. “She wants to come clean when Mom gets back, but I nipped that in the bud. Why make her mad for nothing, right? It's not like I'm doing anything with him."

  "Mm-hmm. It's just a matter of time," Lauren predicts. "You like him."

  "I barely know him," I scoff. "And you should see the kind of girls—women, actually—that he dates. I'm so not his type."

  "Right. Fork or spoon?"

  "Both. So, you really don't think I'm his type?"

  She rolls her eyes. "I don't know, I've never met him. Do you want an iced tea?"

  "I'll get it." I go over to the refrigerator to get the pitcher. "Well, do you think I—"

  I cut myself off when the twins come bouncing into the kitchen. It's just as well. I don't know why I'm obsessing over whether I'm Zane's type or not. Like that even matters. I'm sure he just sees me as his future step sister, the silly babbling geek that he's forced to put up with for a month.

  God, I'm such a loser. Lusting after a guy who will never look twice in my direction. Matt didn't even want me, why the hell would a guy like Zane? Why would I want him to, anyway? He's with a different girl every day of the week, obviously a player.

  Ugh. I need to stop thinking about him.

  After dinner, Lauren asks if I want to get a head start on our English essays. I remind her that I start work tomorrow, so I need to get to bed. Then Ashley says something about having my boyfriend tuck me in. I leave so I don't have to think up a clever response to that.

  On the way home, I try to mentally prepare myself for waking up at five in the morning. I'll be working the morning shift, from six to two, at Sunset Parks Assisted Living. This will be my second year there as a resident aide. The job basically involves assisting the elderly residents with daily living tasks—getting them up in the morning, straightening up their rooms, helping them shower, etc.