My Ghost Roommate - Page 41
I feel like my lungs suddenly aren’t working. “But West, I—”
“Nope. No buts. Unless it’s his butt. Or yours … as you clearly proved to me last weekend.” His hand goes to my back. “You have to do this for you, bro.”
It’s hard to believe a week’s already flown by since the night Byron and I got intimate at his place.
Well, Byron and … us. “No, it wasn’t.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Huh? No what wasn’t?”
“The sex. It wasn’t a threesome. It was … whatever we are when you and I are together … and him. It was just two of us.” I bite my lip, realizing the truth behind West’s words. Maybe we do need to try it solo tonight.
West frowns. “I guess I can see it that way. Hmm.”
“Maybe we need a name to call us when we’re us.”
“Griffest? Westin, Westiffin, Stiffin … Oh, Stiffy!” He lets out a sigh. “I’m bad with names.”
“Yeah, you are. Anyway, I guess it doesn’t matter, since we won’t be us tonight.” I eye him. “You sure?”
“Totally sure. I’m staying out of sight, hiding … whatever-ing. I’m letting you enjoy a night alone with your man.”
“Yeah. And I’ll be all on my own to not freak out and … ugh … and make a fool of myself.” I fidget. “I hope I succeed, because I’m nervous as hell right now.”
“No! Really? You’re nervous?? What?? Okay, fine, it’s all over your face, you’re a wreck, I know.” He lets go of my back and leans against the fridge, appearing pensive. “You know, Griffin … I think I need to confess a little something to you. About last weekend at Byron’s place. And the Pizzeria I made you take us to.”
I squint suspiciously at him. “Okay, what about it?”
“Well … I might have been a little selfish about the Pizzeria. Papa Peppies Pizzeria. It’s actually a place my buddies and I used to go to all the time. I have a whole bunch of really great memories there.”
My heart aches. “Really? I didn’t feel any of them.”
“Oh, you felt them. I could tell. But I didn’t put any special attention on those feelings … so you didn’t think about it and see my pain. But that place—the smell, the crunch of that pizza, the environment—it reminded me so much of being alive. I felt happier in that moment than I had this whole year since I died. You gave that moment to me.” He lifts his chin. “So I decided to give you a gift, too. Except you didn’t realize I did.”
A gift? I am at a total loss. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as suspicion fills me. “What gift?”
He meets my eyes. “You were pretty much already flying solo that whole night back at his place.”
I blink. “What?”
“Sure, I interacted with your thoughts a bit, but … I made sure to just ride the waves when it came to all of your quirkiness and nervousness and anxiety. I let you take the wheel completely in that department. I never once squashed away your nerves like I usually do. I let you manage them yourself.”
I stare at him in disbelief.
“You didn’t even need me. I was so fucking proud of you.” West clears his throat. “I guess I did take it up the ass with you, too, though … and it wasn’t altogether traumatizing or unpleasant, but, uh … you were, for the most part, entirely in charge of your faculties the whole night, beginning to end.”
I look away, surprised. I don’t know whether he’s being truthful—or just telling me a little white lie to try and bolster my confidence now when I need it.
I realize it doesn’t matter. It does the trick. “Thank you, West.”
His chest puffs up. “You’re damned welcome.”
“I mean for everything.” I face him. Tears are in my eyes. West turns serious at the sight of them. “Thanks for being a jerk when we first met. For being the brother I never wanted. For being a pain in my ass. For pushing me into every fearful situation imaginable.” I choke on my words. “For being the perfect friend.”
West’s eyes slowly tear up, too. He stammers over three different replies before settling on: “Damn, bro, you didn’t have to go and get all sentimental on me.”
I throw my arms around him and pull him against me for a hug. Nothing else needs to be said, and West doesn’t need to be a part of me to understand all of the emotional gratitude I’m conveying. His big arms finally settle upon my back, returning the hug.
“Better let go soon before I possess you again,” he teases. “I’m feeling awful bondy with you right now.”
I chuckle. “Bondy. That’s a nice one. Maybe that can be your name?”
“Nah. Sounds like we’re into bondage or something kinky. Unless you are …? In which case … nah, never mind. Oh!” He pulls away suddenly. “Hey, what’s your middle name? Maybe we can shove our middle names together and come up with a name for us! Mine’s—”
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