Page 47 of Ghosted

“What stuff?”

“Bodies. Bones. Dead men in old books.”

“It’s not about dead men.”

“No?”

“No.” She looks down at the page, then back at me. “It’s about what people look like when you remove everything they use to pretend.”

Well fuck. Now I understand why Jagger likes her.

That is annoying.

I bend slightly, bringing myself closer to her level. “Careful, Alice.”

“With what?”

“Looking too deep. Sometimes you find shit you can’t put back.”

Her mouth curves, but it isn’t soft. “You rehearsed that.”

“I did.” I lean closer, dropping my voice like I’m giving her something private. “In the mirror. Shirtless.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here you are. Still listening.”

“Against my will.”

“Sure.” My gaze drops to her mouth for half a second, just long enough to make her notice, then comes back up. “That’s what they all say when they’re enjoying themselves.”

Alice’s eyes narrow, but the attitude doesn’t quite cover the color climbing her cheeks. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I think you kinda like, it, dead girl.”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“When someone gives me a better use for my mouth.”

That lands.

Her fingers tighten around the edge of the anatomy book, and for a second, all that sharp little confidence of hers slips into something quieter. Not scared. Not exactly. More like she’s annoyed her body heard me before her brain had time to roll its eyes.

Fuck, that’s pretty.

I laugh under my breath and reach toward the table, not for her, or the camera, but for one of the photos lying beside the book. Alice moves fast, her hand shooting out to catch my wrist before my fingers touch the print.

Good girl.

Her fingers are cold from the basement, silver rings pressing into my skin, and she realizes what she did a second after she does it. I see the realization move across her face, see the little flare of irritation because letting go too fast would make it obvious she noticed too.

So she doesn’t.

She keeps her hand on me.

I look down at her grip, then back at her. “Well,” I say softly. “That was bold.”

“Don’t touch my work.”