Page 42 of Chasing Your Ghost

“What?” Riley asked in a whisper.

“Your best quality isn’t that you’re a sarcastic smartass. It’s obviously your hair.”

Riley narrowed her eyes at him, not replying to him as she made her way out of the house and past Gabe. She didn’t acknowledge the man this time, but she felt his attention just the same. There was something off about him. Something dark, and she knew it wasn’t the New York in her speaking. She wasn’t being paranoid like she’d been with Brett. Gabe was dangerous, and she would do her best to avoid him from then on out.

“I can’t believe you called me a smartass,” she said once she and Asher were back in the pool house. “I’m nothing of the sort.”

“Oh, please,” Asher replied with a scoff. “Your name is the dictionary definition of the word. In fact, it’s also the definition given for sarcastic.”

“Harsh,” Riley muttered. “But fair,” she added with a laugh when Asher gave her a look that said ‘you know it’s true’. “So you like my hair, do you?” she asked once they were back in the pool house.

“I didn’t say I liked it,” he corrected her. “I just said it’s your best quality.”

Riley’s mouth dropped open. “Well, you know what?” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “The term douche canoe has you as its definition.”

Asher’s lips spread into a broad smile, and he let out a loud laugh. “I’m kidding,” he told her, stepping close enough that she would have been able to feel his breath on her forehead if he had any. She had to tilt her chin up to meet his eyes.

Riley had never noticed how much taller he was until that moment. She gulped as he kept staring down at her, fixing her to the spot with the intensity of his gaze.

“I think your hair is beautiful,” he whispered, lifting his hand to brush aside the lavender strands that had fallen out of her loose braid.

Only he couldn’t, and Riley could see the second the realization hit him, forcing him to lower his hand back down before his fingers could pass right through her hair. He cleared his throat and put some distance between them.

“Asher,” she started, not knowing exactly what she wanted to say to him, but he didn’t give her a chance to say more.

“I have a question about ghosts,” he said as he sat on the edge of the bed. “I can walk through walls and furniture and even people, but I don’t fall through beds or chairs when I sit on them. I mean, it took me a few days to get the hang of it, but it’s possible. What’s that about?”

“Well, ghosts aren’t exactly ruled by the laws of physics,” Riley replied, glad to have something to focus on other than her now clammy palms and rosy cheeks. “You’re not made of matter, and you have no mass. Technically, you’re not sitting on the bed right now. It would dip a bit under you if you were. You’re just floating in such a way that it looks like you’re sitting on it.”

“But I am sitting on it,” he refuted.

“Can you feel the bed under you?” she asked, already knowing what the answer would be.

“Well, no, but it’s not like I’m trying to float above it either.”

“From what I understand, you don’t have to really try. It’s more like instinct. You expect and want your body not to fall through the bed, so it doesn’t. It doesn’t mean that you’re actually touching the bed. You’re just sort of hovering over it.”

“Then why can’t I lean against a wall?”

“You could if you wanted to. But again, you wouldn’t actually be leaning against it as such.”

Asher stood up and walked over to the wall next to her closet. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered as he carefully began moving his upper body toward the wall. “Huh,” he said when his shoulder didn’t go through it.

“Technically, you don’t even need a physical object to lean against. If you can wrap your mind around it, you could do it in the middle of the room, and the same thing would happen. You could even float off the floor.”

Asher stood up properly. “I think I’ll leave ghost physics to you, and keep using real furniture, thanks.”

Riley shrugged. “We’d better get back to researching anyway.”

“Right.” Asher sighed heavily before taking his place next to Riley so he could read with her.

She could tell he was losing his motivation over their task, but she didn’t bring it up because she refused to give up hope.

“Riley?” he asked once she’d found the spot where she’d left off before lunch, and her eyes were already flying across the screen.

She finished her sentence and looked at him. “Yeah?”

He was looking at her with what appeared to be worry. “You don’t really eat mayonnaise sandwiches, do you?”

---