Page 29 of Love Harder

It.

Ghost continued making excuses, but by this point, I was done.

Zuko came back and asked if everything was all right.

I nodded because I had checked out.

Zuko was still adamant about the cover, and honestly, I would do it for him if he wanted. He was able to bring me some sense of peace with Ghost, so I could do this.

“If you both agree to the cover, then we will have to do a screen test to make sure there’s chemistry between the two of you.”

I deadpanned Ghost, who grinned.

“Oh, there’s chemistry there. Don’t worry about that.”

Again, that impious part of me celebrated because I was happy to know he felt this chemistry too. That chemistry was there the second our eyes locked and hadn’t diminished. In fact, it was probably worse.

But what good would that do me?

He wanted to fuck me—great, but that doesn’t mean he respected me.

It meant the total opposite, in fact.

It meant he had chemistry with someone who wasn’t his wife.

Bad dog…

And I was raised better than that.

I folded my arms and gave him a stiff upper lip.

Zuko was talking, but I wasn’t listening because I was looking at Ghost, the man who I allowed to consume my life.

Yes, he was still the hottest man I’ve ever seen. And his teeth were in fact still rather cute, which I did mention in a weak moment as he smiled at me. But now that I knew the truth, I looked at him in a different light.

Perhaps I took him off his pedestal and saw him for who he really was—a man who didn’t fight for me.

He was still adamant that he was self-conscious and had body dysmorphia, which, again, I knew to be true as it was something he touched on often when we were together.

“I don’t know why you want me on a cover. I’m not photogenic at all.”

I scoffed because he was so photogenic it made me sick. I liked that he never believed it, though. He was such an oxymoron. He comes across as confident, but deep down, he was far from it.

The longer we spoke, the more comfortable he grew. That was something that remained the same. When together, there was never silence…oh, except of course when he ghosted me for weeks.

“My nails aren’t painted black,” he said, extending his hands out for me to see.

On instinct, I reached for them, and the moment we touched, I knew our feelingswerereal.

He gave me his hands, and I took the offering, touching him for the first time since he left me. The chemistry between us left me breathless, and I often needed to inhale deeply because it felt like I couldn’t get enough air fast enough.

It was beyond ridiculous.

I asked why they weren’t black, as it was something he knew I liked. I found it interesting he decided to bring this up. He knew I found his black-painted nails incredibly sexy, so to mention it confused me.

But that seemed to be a common thing when Ghost was involved.

He didn’t move his hands away, and replied with a smirk, “I can’t find a black nail polish that stays on.”

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