Eternal by Debra Glass Page B

could he kiss me, too? Or more? Warmth trickled downward inside me despite the chill in the attic.
    And then, common sense prevailed.
    What was I thinking? I was scarred outside and in. I was responsible for the death of my best friend. I didn’t deserve this.
    Grudgingly, I loosened my fingers.
    A muscle in his jaw twitched. “You’re afraid,” he said.
    He was right. I was terrified. But not because I was touching him. No. Not at all. What if he found out the truth about me? What if he saw how horrible I was on the inside?
    When I tried to withdraw my hand, his hold on me tightened. My throat constricted and I made a small choking sound.
    “Am I hurting you?” he asked. The pain in his eyes was my undoing.
    I shook my head as tears began to spill down my cheeks.
    “Wren, you’re crying.” His drawl was so soft and tender it only made me cry harder.
    And then suddenly, he crushed me against him and I became achingly aware of the feel of his ethereal body pressed against mine from head to toe. With his free hand, he lifted my chin so that I looked up into his eyes and then he brushed one of my tears away with the pad of his thumb. My tear-damp lashes fluttered shut and I turned my face more fully into his palm, relishing the all-encompassing feel of this dangerous intimacy.
    I wanted to wrap my arms around his waist and lay my head on his shoulder but fear and uncertainty consumed me and I resisted.
    His breath fanned my cheeks as he studied my expression, and I intuitively knew he debated whether he should release me or…kiss me.
    My heart skidded.
    This close, I could see the slight misshapen crook of the bridge of his nose. I’d never noticed that before. This close, I could see his wealth of black lashes, the sharp slash of his high cheekbones and the soft pout of his bottom lip, which was a tiny bit fuller than his top lip. My gaze lingered on his mouth and I hoped for a heart-stopping moment that he would take that next step and kiss me.
    Instead, he gently set me away from him. “I apologize.”
    Thick disappointment seeped through my insides. I thought I was going to have to kick myself in order to unscramble my brain. “For-for what?” I stammered.
    “I took liberties I should not have taken,” he whispered.
    Of all times, why did he play the southern gentleman card now?
    The rain had let up and gently pattered the tin roof. Thunder rumbled, low and soft, like a whisper in the darkness, like cannons on a faraway battlefield. Above all, I knew some new intimacy had just formed between Jeremiah and me that sparked a sense of promise in my heart.
    As disappointed as I’d been that he hadn’t kissed me, I understood the need to move forward slowly. Even though I wanted there to be more between us, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it.
    After all, he was a ghost.
    What sort of future lay in a relationship with a ghost?
    “The rain has stopped,” he said, never taking his eyes from mine.
    “I suppose I should be getting back to bed, then.”
    He gave me a nod.
    I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. This had fast become painfully awkward and I really didn’t know how to just walk away from him after what we’d just shared.
    The same discomfort emanated from his gaze but as he took a step backward, a sheepish grin claimed his lips and then he vanished.
    I blinked. I’d never get used to that, and I felt the absence of his energy so acutely, it actually made me ache. But as I turned and made my mortal way down the dark stairs, my heart soared like an eagle wheeling high above the earth.
    I had touched a ghost. I had touched Jeremiah.
    Despite all the warning signals blaring like sirens in my head, a strange sort of expectation gushed through me. I was falling in love.
    With a ghost.
     

Seven

    After last night in the attic, I hadn’t been able to fall asleep until well after three. Even then, I’d only dozed off and on, intermittently pushing Ella’s bony little limbs back onto her side