Page 66 of Chasing Your Ghost

“Have you ever watched The Shape of Water?” he asked with narrowed eyes.

She cringed. “Point taken. I fell asleep during that one.”

“So, you see. My mom isn’t the true victim—I am.”

Riley laughed, and Asher was forced to shush her when Russel Crowe appeared on the screen.

“Prepare to be amazed,” he whispered.

She chuckled in amusement but dutifully focused her attention on the laptop screen, happy to have something to take her mind off the complete train wreck that was her day.

18

The longer they silently sat next to each other, the harder it became for Riley to keep her attention on the movie. Not that it wasn’t good—because it was—but because Asher’s close proximity had her feeling fidgety and nervous. They’d sat beside one another on her bed before, had even laid down together like they were now, but it had never felt like this.

The sky had grown dark outside as the movie neared its end, and Riley had foolishly chosen not to turn on her bedside light because she hadn’t wanted any glare on the screen. She was regretting that decision now. Lying on her bed with Asher in the shadowed darkness had silly thoughts running through her mind, and the only thing keeping her sane was knowing that those thoughts were not only foolish but impossible.

Her fingers would glide right through Asher’s hand if she tried to touch it. Her hand would meet only the feel of empty air if she tried to rest it on his arm. She would feel absolutely nothing if his fingers moved to trace the line of her cheek. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

“What?”

“Hm?” Riley hummed, blinking from her daze and looking to the side to see Asher frowning at her. Her head spun with the slight movement, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything since the banana and yogurt she’d had after her ballet lesson. God, she felt awful.

“You were mumbling something.”

“Oh.” Oh. Her cheeks grew hot, and she pressed a hand against her already sweaty forehead. “Sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“Are you okay? You sound weird.”

“I’m fine,” she replied, cursing how breathless her voice was.

“Riley,” he said in a no-nonsense manner. He sat up and tried to pause the movie, realizing too late that his finger couldn’t press the space bar.

She did it for him, sitting up as well, though her movements weren’t nearly as smooth as his had been. Her hands shook, and her stomach rebelled, a wave of nausea hitting her and forcing her to lower her head between her bent knees.

Her hypoglycemia hadn’t hit her this hard in over a year. She’d grown used to watching out for the signs of low blood sugar, making sure to eat something whenever they appeared. She’d simply never been ordered to go to bed without dinner before.

Of course, it hadn’t helped that she’d been lying within arm’s reach of a ghost for over two hours, her supernatural ability draining all of her energy.

“Is it your blood sugar?” Asher asked, and Riley could only nod her head once in confirmation. “Dammit. You need to eat something.”

“Can’t,” she mumbled.

“Well, you can’t stay here like this either,” he said through clenched teeth. “I don’t care what Edith said. You need to go inside and find some food.”

He was right. Riley knew he was right. She nodded again, using her trembling arms to get to the side of the bed.

“I should have realized earlier,” Asher muttered as he easily got off the bed and made his way to where she was struggling to stand.

“Not your fault,” she told him, her nausea and dizziness worsening as she got to her feet.

The back of her shirt clung to her damp skin, and she wasn’t looking forward to stepping out of her air-conditioned room.

“Can you even make it?” he asked when she took her first wobbly step toward the door. “Riley, maybe you should call Noah or Hugh,” he added as she stumbled forward.

“I’ll be okay,” she reassured him, but the words were slurred.

“Is this normal?” he asked, shadowing her every slow step. “You only missed one meal. Surely it can’t be this bad already?”

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