Falling for the Ghost of You Page 7

  "Really? How's their clam chowder?" I pick up one of the colorful menus and look it over.

  Yikes! Their prices are crazy! Over twenty bucks for a dinner plate—please!

  "I don't know, I don't like seafood. The pasta is good, though." He leans forward and taps the pasta section on the menu.

  I squint at the choices, then my eyes widen. "One hundred and eighty-one dollars for a plate of spaghetti?!"

  "What? That can't be right."

  "That's what it—oh, the extra one came off!" I hold up my finger to show him the slight back smudge on it.

  To my utter shock, Zane grabs that finger and rubs his thumb over the mark until it disappears. Then he wipes his hand on a napkin. "I've been to two hundred dollars a plate restaurants before, and this ain't it," he says, balling the napkin up and tossing it on the table.

  It takes me a while to find my voice again. I put my hands in my lap and force a casual smile to my lips. "So, what are you getting?"

  "Chicken," he replies, without having looked at the menu. "You?"

  "I think I'll get a bowl of clam chowder."

  Zane raises an eyebrow. "That's it? I thought you were hungry."

  Yeah, until you started in with the casual touching. Now I'm freaking out!

  Out loud, I say, "I had a big lunch at work."

  The waitress finally comes by to take our order. She seems to recognize Zane, and greets him warmly. I might as well not be there. Zane has to tell her my order because even though I say "a bowl of clam chowder" at least three times, she continues to ignore me. That really irritates me!

  So, it may or may not have been an accident when she trips over my foot. I think I have anger issues.

  After our orders are taken, Zane turns back to me. "So, how was work?"

  Feeling strangely nervous, I start babbling about my day. I even tell him about the magnet "vagina" mix-up. That makes him laugh, and I feel like the wittiest person ever. He’s a good listener. Even when our food comes, he doesn't take his eyes off of me.

  "So, what about your job?" I ask him. "Do you like being a software engineer?"

  He's slouched back in the booth, one arm resting along the top, and the other hand holding his glass of water. He keeps swirling the ice around, then staring into the glass.

  "It's a job," he says with a shrug. "The good thing about working for Cronus is they allow me a lot of freedom to develop my own projects."

  "Oh," I say inanely. "Uh, how's it going with the one you're working in on now?"

  "Finished it last week," he says with a smile. I'm relieved he doesn't go into detail about it because I would be so lost.

  "So does that mean you're going back to L.A.?"

  "Nope. As far as work is concerned, I'm still figuring out the bugs. How's your clam chowder?"

  Of course he waits until I have a huge bite of bread in my mouth to ask me. "Good," I choke out.

  He laughs. "Make sure you leave some room for the cinnamon rolls."

  I groan. "No way! I'm too stuffed."

  "So we take them home." Zane drops his fork on his plate, and squints over at me. "How do you feel about scary movies?"

  "Love 'em," I say promptly.

  "I got a copy of 'House of Bone and Blood.' Wanna see it?"

  My eyes widen in disbelief. "That doesn't come out for two weeks. How do you have a copy of it already?"

  "I know a guy who knows a guy," he replies casually. "Do you want to watch it, or not?"

  "Yeah!" I shout enthusiastically. Then I pause uncertainly. "With you?"

  "Yeah, with me. You got an objection to that?" he asks teasingly.

  "Well, that depends. I like watching scary movies in the dark," I say. I take a sip of my iced tea. "I don't know, it might be too...intense for you."

  What? I'm not flirting, I'm being playful, in a strictly platonic way.

  Zane tilts his head to the side, amused. "Oh, really, little girl? Maybe you'll be too afraid to sit next to me in the dark."

  The way he says it, with that rough sexy voice of his is so...hot! Is he flirting?

  I pretend to sneer while my heart bangs crazily against my chest. "Yeah, right,” I say to both him and myself. “Just don’t jump like a girl at all the scary parts.”

  “I’ll try not to.” He grins and motions the waitress over. She’s comes a-running. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Zane orders two cinnamon rolls to go, then pays for it all, despite my protests. When I try to argue, he just gives me a look. I know it’s not a date, and he was just being nice, but still. I can’t help the giddy feeling that washes over me.

  Or maybe he knows I wasn’t going to tip that horrible waitress.

  On the way home, we discuss favorite movies. We’re both surprised to discover that we like many of the same ones because they’re mostly older ones: “The Princess Bride,” “Big Trouble in Little China,” and “Boondock Saints” to name an eclectic few. I love movies, almost as much as books. I could talk about them all day, and I can’t believe Zane seems to feel the same way. I would think he’d be too busy charming the pants off girls to go to many movies. When I tell him that, he just grins and says he can do both at the same time. Then I mutter something about porn.

  "Have you ever watched porn?" he asks curiously, glancing at me when he should be watching the road.

  "No!" I say quickly, blushing. "Only guys do that."

  Zane chuckles. His gaze switches back and forth, from me to the road. "How old are you again, Violet?"

  "Seventeen," I snap. "Why?"

  "Sometimes you act much older, but then sometimes you seem so innocent."

  I frown down at the warm bag of cinnamon rolls on my lap. I know he really means “naive,” but I don’t know what I said that would make him think that. Heck, I even said “vagina” in front of him. I guess if he’s comparing me to the women he knows, then I probably do seem innocent. I don’t see that as a bad thing—does he?

  When we get back to the pool house, Zane goes in his room to get the movie, and I pop the cinnamon rolls in the microwave and close all the blinds. With the day already being cloudy and rainy, it gets to be pretty dark in the house. Perfect.

  "I hear this movie's pretty intense," Zane says, coming into the room. "You sure you don't want a light on?"

  I roll my eyes. "Uh-huh. Don't come running into my room when you get nightmares."

  He smirks back. "Don't worry, little girl. The last place I'd run to is your room."

  He puts the movie in the player while I glare at his back. What the hell does that mean? Is he trying to imply that he finds me repulsive?

  I stomp into the kitchen to grab the cinnamon rolls. Oh, my god, they smell heavenly, all gooey and soft-looking. I stick them on separate plates and carry them into the living room.

  Zane is sprawled on the couch. I hand him his plate then plop down on the recliner with my treat.

  "What's up, Mercer? Why are you sitting way over there?"

  "Because," I sigh. "It's comfortable."

  Zane pats the cushion right next to him. "So is the couch. Come on. What if I get scared? You'll have to hold my hand."

  I hesitate. I don't want him to think it's a big deal, but I know I won't be able to concentrate on the movie if I'm sitting right beside him.

  Ultimately, I can't pass up the opportunity to be closer to him. So I shrug and get up. I casually plop down a few careful inches away from him.

  He smells so good! That freshly cleaned laundry scent mixed with soap does funny things to my insides. I clamp my legs together to keep them from bouncing nervously.

  To take my mind off his nearness, I take a bite of my cinnamon roll. My eyes automatically close in delight.

  "Oh, my god," I mumble, my mouth full of edible heaven.

  "Right?" Zane says, enjoying my reaction.

  "It's so good!"

  For a minute, I forget Zane is there. I am loving this cinnamon roll. It practically melts in my mouth, all that golden gooeyness overwhelm
ing my senses. Yum!

  I lick my sticky fingers afterwards, savoring every last bit. I've got my thumb in my mouth when I happen to glance over and catch Zane watching me intently.

  My thumb comes out with an embarrassing popping noise. "I'm so sorry you had to see that," I murmur shame-facedly.

  "Not a problem. Here, take mine, too."

  I laugh and shake my head. "Just start the movie."

  He continues to look at me instead. "I think I'd rather watch you eat."

  I smack him on one rock hard bicep. Chuckling, he presses the remote and the movie starts.

  I have been dying to see this movie. The trailer for it looked awesome, and it's getting really good online buzz.

  But as the movie opens with a pan of creepy house, I find myself barely paying attention. I can't stop staring at Zane’s profile, trying to search for any flaws, but there really is none. I marvel that it was just the luck of the draw that he was born with that perfect face.

  Well, that and a good gene pool.

  "Eyes on the movie, Violet," Zane murmurs, keeping his gaze straight ahead.

  Blushing furiously, I whip my head forward. I can't believe he caught me staring! Again.

  Mentally scolding myself, I focus on the movie, and not on the gorgeous guy sitting next to me in the dark. I tuck my legs under me, and prepare to be terrified.

  Okay, so the movie is about this family who moves into a creepy old house. Strange things begin to happen, culminating in the disappearance of their six month old baby. The teenage daughter does some research and discovers the house belonged to a satanic cult leader. Rumor has it that he built the house using the blood and bones of his followers.

  The story's been done before, but the special effects are awesome. There are plenty of jump-worthy moments—especially when the girl gets sucked into another dimension in the house to find her baby brother.

  It's totally creepy. I keep thinking there is something lurking behind the couch, waiting to claw my brain out. I want to turn the light on, but I can't, not after I made a big deal about how brave I supposedly was.

  I look at him out of the corner of my eye. He appears engrossed in the movie, smiling a little—even at the scary parts.

  If he were my boyfriend, he'd have his arm around me, and I wouldn't be scared at all.

  Ugh, get those thoughts out of your head, Violet!

  I was doing so good—up until the end. The girl and her brother had just returned from the evil dimension, and was safe back home. I totally didn't see it coming when bloody hands suddenly popped out of the wall and yanked her backwards, back into their dimension.

  So I jump and scream a little, pressing back into the couch. Zane turns to look at me, eyebrows raised.

  “You okay, Violet?” he asks with a teasing grin.

  “I’m fine,” I say quickly, standing up. "I just thought I saw a spider."

  "A spider, huh?"

  There's a sudden chirping noise, making me jump again. Zane checks his phone. He frowns down at it, then tosses it on the cushion beside him.

  "Wow," I say, eager to change the subject. "That's the first time I've seen you with a phone. I just realized, that's weird."

  "Why is that weird?" he asks, running his hands through his hair.

  I shrug. "Because of your job, and your, uh, extremely active social life."

  "Yeah, well, I hate the damn thing," he mutters, sounding annoyed. "I usually have it turned off."

  "Huh."

  Zane leans over and flicks on the lamp, bathing the couch in light. "Well, what about you? Most teenagers are glued to their phones, but I rarely see you on yours."

  "I only ever talk to my friend, Lauren, or my mom," I reply. Then I smack myself in the forehead. "And now you think I'm a real loser."

  Zane laughs. He stands up and looks down at me with his gorgeous dark eyes. "I think you're beautiful and funny, and if I didn't have to be somewhere tonight, I'd make you watch another scary movie with me just so I can watch you pretend you're not scared."

  I stare up at him, speechless. He thinks I'm beautiful?!

  We stand there for a breathless minute. The eerie soundtrack of the movie plays in the background. I am desperate to say something—anything—to break the sudden tension.

  Finally, Zane looks away, shaking his head a little, as if to clear a thought away. He grabs his phone and our plates and goes into the kitchen to put them in the sink. The plates, not his phone.

  "You gonna be okay alone?" he asks before he heads into his room. "You look a little spooked."

  I scowl at him. "I'm not a little kid."

  He only smiles at me over his shoulder before he disappears into his room.

  In a daze, I turn off the lamp and the television, then I go straight to my room. I do a swan dive onto my bed.

  I can't stop smiling. I replay our day together in my head, especially the really good parts. I can't believe we spent the day with him—complete with the awkward is-he-gonna-kiss-me moment at the end.

  Knowing he's right across the hall from me makes me feel restless, giddy. There's a funny fluttering in the pit of my stomach that only grows when I think of walking that short distance to his room, and—I don't know what I'd do. Kiss him. Run my arms up and down his back...

  He thinks I'm beautiful and funny!

  Yeah, right, Violet. Then why is he going out—probably with yet another gorgeous woman? He must have felt sorry for you.

  Ugh, the voice of reason in my head is right. I need to stop thinking like that. Zane is my future step brother, and the most we can be is friends. I can ignore that spine tingling electricity, that feeling of falling, whenever I'm around him. I just won't allow it.

  Yeah. The next night I walk in on Zane just coming out of the shower. He's wearing nothing but a towel knotted low around his waist. Beads of water slide down his tanned muscles, from his chest down to the fascinating ridges along his hips...

  Don't worry, I handle it well. I scream, "Ewww!" and run from the room.

  No, I really did. I walked into that room and saw the hottest sexiest guy I've ever seen--wet and half naked. And I said, "Ewww."

  I know. How am I still single, right?

  ******

  Chapter 11

  "Look at this pic," I say to Lauren, showing her my phone. "My mom sent it this morning from Paris."

  Lauren takes it and squints at the screen. "What is that she's holding?"

  "That would be a phallic-shaped French pastry that my mother is holding up to her open mouth. I don't think she realizes, however—or she wouldn't be posing like that."

  She laughs and hands my phone back to me. “She looks really good, V. Happy.”

  “Yeah,” I agree with a sigh. I poke unenthusiastically at my taco.

  We're at Taco Bill's right now, having lunch off campus for a change. We aren't really allowed to, but usually the school doesn't enforce this rule. So we’re seizing the day. I order tacos instead of my usual enchiladas, just to be different.

  "What did you get on that Chem quiz?" Lauren asks me.

  "Ninety-six." I say. "What about you?"

  She smiles. "Ninety-eight."

  I make a face at her. "Show off."

  "Right, I studied my butt off. You rarely crack a book open. Are you going to work on your essay tonight?"

  "No." I busy myself with running my fingers through my hair. "I think I'm hanging out with Zane tonight."

  Lauren raises an eyebrow. "Again?"

  "Yeah," I mumble nonchalantly. "It's no big deal. He asked if I wanted pizza for dinner. We might watch a movie after."

  Lauren doesn't say anything, but her brown eyes seem judgmental.

  "What?" I say, a tad defensively. "We're just friends. In fact, why don't you come over? You can finally meet him."

  "Not today. I'm tutoring after school."

  "Ugh. Is Mr. Tanner back yet, or do we still have Mr. Jensen?"

  Lauren takes a long sip from her soda before answering. "Jensen
. Mr. Tanner is still out sick. I think he's actually having some kind of surgery."

  "Oh. Poor guy." I tsk sympathetically. "I like Jensen, though. They should just make him be our permanent teacher. He's been there more than Tanner has."

  "Yeah, I'm sure all the girls would love that." Lauren rolls her eyes. "Did I tell you about yesterday, after school? Kari Geddes was all leaning up against him when I came in."

  "Really?" My eyes widen. "And what was he doing?"

  "Leaning away from her." She laughs. "You should've seen the look on his face."

  "Well, yeah," I say, squirting hot sauce on my taco. "If he ever got caught with a student, he'd be in so much trouble. Remember Mrs. Alvarez?"

  "Yeah, but I still wonder if Casey was making it all up. Mrs. Alvarez was sixty, with rheumatoid arthritis."

  "True," I agree, licking the hot sauce off my fingers. "So, do you wanna come over after tutoring?"

  "No, thanks," she declines. She takes a small bite of her burrito, then suddenly bursts out laughing. Covering her mouth, she mumbles, "I still can't believe you said 'eww!'"

  Even now, I flush with embarrassment. "I was flustered. You know how I get when I'm flustered."

  "It's totally something Fat Violet would have said."

  "I miss her," I sigh. "She was fearless."

  "She was. Why don't you take a pic of Zane so I can see what he looks like?"

  "I don't think he likes having his picture taken," I say. "I asked him once why he doesn't have any pictures in his room, and he said something to that effect. You know, he's not vain at all. I never see him look in a mirror."

  "Hm, sounds like someone else I know." Lauren balls up all her used napkins and sticks them on her plate. "We should go. We have ten minutes to be back on campus."

  I didn't get to finish my tacos! But Lauren is already standing up, getting her things together. I take a giant bite and follow after her.

  We get in the short line to pay our bill, and I don't notice Matt and Rachel are standing in front of us until I hear his familiar laugh.

  Oh, great. I exchange eye rolls with Lauren. She quietly asks me if I want to wait outside, but I shake my head.

  Oh, that’s nice—he's got his hand on her butt. He never put his hand on my butt in public. We barely held hands.