Page 80 of Ghosted
“Deal.” I blow warm air into my cupped palms and then shove them deep in my pockets. “I’m glad we talked, Mish,” I say quietly. I have very few friends, and the thought that I had lost one of them hurt more than I care to admit.
“Me too. And hey, now that I know your big dark secret,maybe you can stop saying no to hanging out with me and Felix,” he says with a raised brow.
I blush at being clocked so easily. Just as I’m opening my mouth to respond, a clawed hand grasps the back of my coat and spins me around. “You owe me your firstborn,” Wren hisses in my ear.
“Sure,” I reply easily, knowing I’ll never have kids.
“No fair. Let me think of something you’ll genuinely miss,” she says, stomping her petite foot.
“What a nice night,” Julian remarks, strolling up oh-so-casually.
Wren’s eyes narrow so much, I wonder if she can even see. “You're polluting it with your pine-y vanilla stink,” Wren complains.
Julian’s smile slowly widens as he practically coos, “Vanilla and pine, huh?”
I do a double-take when I notice Wren blush so much, even her pierced ears turn red. “Shut up,” she sputters. “I have to go feed my cat.”
My brow furrows. “When did you get a cat?” I ask.
Her glare is so sharp, I find myself mentally cataloguing my body for injury. “Just yesterday. She’s a stray.”
“A feral cat, huh? Sounds like you two have a lot in common,” Julian says amicably.
Wren just grunts and slinks away, rounding the corner to where she’s parked her car behind mine.
I shake my head after her and meet Misha’s eye. “Told you,” he says with a smug smile.
“Told her what?” Julian asks suspiciously.
“Nothing,” we respond together, grinning.
FORTY-THREE
I concentrate on Dean,calling him forth from the ether. He was resting after a long day at the police station. He’s been there for a while to get updates on Richard. The police didn’t find much at his apartment, but they did seize his phone and computer. I’m worried that all of the sudden attention from the police will spook Richard and make him run.
Dean’s presence wraps around me like a warm blanket before he’s suddenly in front of me. I tilt my head and beckon him into the stockroom. There’s only one customer wandering around the store for now, and he’s deep in the books, so I think I’m safe to sneak off for a minute.
When I close the door, Dean crowds me against it and kisses me breathless. Eventually, the hazy reason for me calling him here floats to the front of my mind, and I gently push him back, breaking the kiss. “What? Is this not a booty call? Get it? Boo-ty call,” Dean snickers and waves his arms like a cartoon ghost.
I laugh quietly so the tourist out there doesn’t think I lost my marbles, and say, “No. I was just thinking that maybe you should watch Richard. What if he tries to run or something?”
Dean sighs. “Yeah, that’s probably a better use of my time. I’ll go watch him.” Then he brightens a little. “At least they took his computer so I don’t have to watch him… Ya know…” He makes an obscene gesture at his crotch, and I hold out a hand to stop him.
“Yep, I got it.” I shiver. “Just keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t look like he’s grabbing for his passport or anything.”
“You got it, boss,” Dean says with a mock salute. He leans in, pecking me on the lips once before he vanishes.
“Alright everyone,that’s the last order for the night. Thanks for watching!” I say, waving my hand in front of my phone camera. I have it set up so it’s facing my desk with some fun purple lighting and mystical set pieces to add to the mood. I click off the live video and stand, stretching out my sore back. I sit like an overcooked shrimp for an hour and then wonder why I have upper back pain.
I’m glad that Misha isn’t coming over until he finishes closing Brewed Awakening. It gave me a chance to do a live potion pull. It’s been a while, and it always boosts sales for our online store. I spend the next twenty minutes packaging the orders from the live and stress cleaning my living room.
A knock at the door saves the dust bunnies under my couch. I sigh, getting to my feet and stowing my vacuum in my broom closet. I cross the room to my front door and open it to find Misha clutching two to-go cups.
“Is that your hot chocolate?” I ask hopefully.
He grins at me, dropping one of the cups into my grabby hands. “Yes. I figured you’d need your fix since you’ve been avoiding me,” he says with a genuine grin.
I gesture him inside, taking a sip of the chocolatey deliciousness rather than responding to his comment. I take his cup too, giving him a chance to shed all his outer layers, and guide him into my living room.
