Not me though. I lie awake with my hand in Ghost’s fur, looking at the shadows dancing on the ceiling. I don’t know what to make of it—what to make of this situation and of my weird trust in this guy. Is it because he’s a firefighter and supposed to help me? Maybe.
I don’t feel panic with a stranger sleeping in the next room. I’m not terrified that I haven’t locked my door, and more than that, I haven’t even checked if there’s a lock. Probably for the first time in years.
Lying here in a stranger’s bed and looking into the darkness makes me think that despite recent events, I might have made the right choice by trying to move on.
ChapterSix
ALICIA
I wake in a cocoon of warmth, fluff, and fur, a woodsy scent intruding my nostrils. Not that I minded. I take a deep breath, settling into the fur with a content sigh.
Wait. Fur?
“Ghost!” I cry, my eyes shooting open as I move the heavy head from my chest. He lets out a tired, whiny yap. He’s whiny for a dog of his size. I look down, observing his drool all over my shirt, forming a huge wet spot. “Ew, disgusting.” I try to wipe it clean with my hands, but of course, it’s useless. “Why are you in bed?” I eye him suspiciously.
He stops complaining and gives me a stink eye. “Oh, c’mon!” I glare back as I stretch to grab my phone from the nightstand.
My phone that isn’t there. I never took it with me.
I freeze. I never forget my phone. Ever.
I must have been in so much shock yesterday, I didn’t even think about it. It’s weird because every night, when I wake in a pool of sweat, I grab my phone and scroll through social media to distract myself.
Wait a minute—
I didn’t wake up covered in sweat this morning. I woke up well rested and dry. Well, besides the giant wet spot from the big, furry baby next to me.
I look at him with a sigh. He glances at me for a second, his head tilted slightly, like he knows what’s going through my brain. We connect just a moment before he bends over to lick his jewels. He does it a lot, so I remind myself never to let him give me a sloppy kiss ever again.
What time is it? I look around and see a clock on the dresser. It’s vintage and well loved, if the worn-out metal is any indication, matching the rustic, handmade furniture adorning the room. It shows twenty minutes past nine.
What?I’ve never been able to sleep this late. Nightmares keep me up. Justin and I are similar in that way. He developed insomnia too, after that night. Only, he can’t fall asleep, while I wake up after a couple of hours, not having nearly enough rest my body needs.
He thinks I don’t know, but I do. Mom does too. She’s been super worried, but he seems better now. Since he’s been dating Kayla, the ever-present dark circles around his eyes have all but disappeared, and the corners of his lips don’t point downward anymore. Before her, we could always tell no matter how much he tried to hide his unhappiness, even when he was smiling. But the sadness isn’t there anymore.
Ghost must have sensed the shift in my mood. He crawls closer and licks my hands. Just like that, I forget I swore to never let him just a few seconds ago.
“Aren’t you a good boy?” I ask him, my voice unrecognizably high-pitched, as if I were speaking to a baby. I play with his ears, paying special attention to scratching behind them. It seems to be his favorite spot. He lets out a whine and looks at the door. “Ah, nature’s calling.”
After climbing out of bed, I walk to the door and open it. The moment I do, he sprints into the house, and I’m forced to follow him. He stops at the kitchen door, the one leading to the backyard, and scratches at it, so I let him out. While he’s doing his doggy business, I curiously look around.
The place is pristine, a far cry from my slob brother. Before Kayla, it was dangerous to step foot inside his place without risking stitches or breaking a limb while trying to navigate everything strewn about. It was that bad. His place is really the only bachelor’s den I’ve seen to compare Mark’s to.
Kayla has been like a magic fairy who cleans his place and makes it livable. I’ve been to her trailer, now parked behind Justin’s place since she’s moved in with him (don’t ask me what they’re using her trailer for now—I don’t want to know), and it looks so cozy and homey. She seems to know how to make everything look nice and welcoming. Unfortunately, I sure as hell don’t possess such a gift.
I think of the state I left my home in last night and sigh. I destroy everything. Time after time.
Today I need to call all the contractors I can find, beg them to help me, and beg them not to tell Mrs. Jenkins or my brothers. I might have to call someone from Springfield and cross my fingers that they don’t know anyone here.
I’m awakened from my thoughts when Ghost paws the door from outside, and I let him in. He runs to his plate and digs into the food Mark must have left before he went to work.
I watch him happily eat, looking over Mark’s house once more, and yawn. I need coffee… but not here. Mark’s kitchen is so pristine, I don’t want to ruin anything. And I’m sure I will if I touch something. The last two days haven’t exactly proven otherwise. Besides being an intruder—and I am an intruder—I can’t bring myself to overstay my welcome by using his kitchen for my own needs with my kitchen right next door.
A ruined kitchen. A submerged kitchen. Oh, man. I groan and wrack my brain, trying to remember if I have bottled water back home. Hoping I do, I head for the door.
“Okay, Ghost, I’m leaving. See ya.” I glance back at him, already at the door. Big mistake. A big fat mistake. Those pitiful puppy eyes peer back at me. They have the power to shred anyone’s armor into smithereens with just one look, and I feel my heart filling with astronomical guilt.
“Oh, c’mon, don’t do that to me.”
