Page 7 of Ghost

Crossing my arms over my chest, I stand up tall.

It wasn’t always this infuriating working for Ghost. When I first came to Vegas, Ghost was distant and quiet, but at least civil. He would give me a task, and I’d get it done. Ignoring the electricity sparking between us.

I had a home, a steady stream of income, and a place to finish my degree while I figured out what I wanted. And it was more than enough.

Every city I’ve lived in before Vegas had been so small and suffocating. But in the desert, possibility was wide and endless.

When I first came here, I had hope, and Ghost was part of making that happen.

But lately, things are changing. Ghost shuts down more every day, and the deterioration is starting to eat away at me. Any little flirtations we shared the first time we met have faded, and I’m lucky if he looks me in the eyes when we talk.

I don’t know what I did wrong or why I expect things to get better when all he does is shut me down, but the tension in the room is nearly debilitating.

Staring at Ghost now, I wait for him to reassure me this is all in my head, but he won’t.

“Did you need something else?” Ghost hitches an eyebrow.

“Apparently not.” Turning, I leave the room, shutting the door a little too hard behind me.

He can’t even be bothered with aThanks, Lunaor aYou’re not imagining we used to have something between us, Luna.

Nothing.

I do my job without appreciation and pretend I can keep my eyes off the man who brought me here in the first place.

Making my way into the den, a few of the guys have already started drinking. I should probably study in my bedroom, but instead, I’ve set my books up on the couch in the corner. While the noise and rowdiness might bother some people, the madness of the clubhouse soothes me. It gives me something to listen to other than the doubts running circles in my head.

I pile my books on a cushion and then head into the kitchen to get something to drink that isn’t alcohol. I have an online test due tomorrow, and I need to pass it to move on to the next module.

Reina is sitting on a stool at the counter, talking on the phone. She twirls a white-blonde strand of hair around her finger, smiling at me as I walk in.

Opening the cabinet, I reach for my favorite mug on the top shelf, but it’s just out of reach. My fingers graze the handle, but I can’t quite get it. Planting my palm on the counter to gain some leverage, I silently curse Stevie’s height, knowing he must have put away the dishes.

I can almost snag the handle with my middle finger, but it’s not enough, so I plant my feet down and sigh.

Right as I’m about to give up and pick a different mug, a body closes in behind me.

Warmth seeps through my T-shirt, and I breathe him in.

Leather.

Soap.

I look up over my shoulder to see Ghost reaching up for the mug, pressing my body into the counter as hedoes. He was just working in his office, but somehow, he manages to be nowhere and everywhere at once.

Once he has the mug, he steps back, handing it to me, and I wonder if he felt all the air leave my chest just now. Our eyes connect, and I can’t help wishing this was different.

“Thanks.” I take the mug, trying to ignore that my cheeks feel like they’re being eaten up by flames.

He nods, breaking my stare, and leaves the kitchen as Reina hangs up the phone.

No water.

No food.

Did Ghost follow me in here just to get me a mug and leave?

“What in the world was that?” Reina’s eyes widen. “Did Ghost just touch you?”

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