Page 71 of The Devil and His Ghost

I SAT NERVOUSLY NEXT TO Harper while Iyla and Serenity occupied the seats across from us. My seat had me close to the dark-haired beauty, so I tried to subtly shift slightly away from her. I tried to act casual while doing so, but she must’ve caught me trying to put distance between us.

“Oops,” she said, grabbing her own chair to pull it in the opposite direction. “Was I too close?”

“Huh?” I asked stupidly, half embarrassed at being caught moving away from her and half anticipating their poor opinion of me from such a bitchy-appearing move.

“Xander told us you don’t like being touched,” Harper explained like such a thing was normal and no big deal. “I was afraid I might’ve accidentally crossed that line.”

My brows rose. “He said that?”

I recalled him stopping the girls and saying something to the group that had them all looking in my direction. I’d thought he might’ve been warning them about my less than bright personality, but this must’ve really been what he’d said. He was trying to make sure I wasn’t put in an uncomfortable position. A whisper of affection blossomed in my chest, but I quickly ignored that feeling since no good could come from opening that box again.

I cleared my throat and pushed my glasses up my nose while averting my gaze. “Yeah. I don’t … like being touched. Sorry. I know that’s weird and—”

“Don’t apologize for that,” Serenity quickly cut me off with a wave of her hands. “We totally understand!”

“Yeah,” Harper agreed. She braced her chin on her fist and offered me an understanding smile. “Never apologize for the boundaries that protect your well-being. Let us know if we get too close or anything, okay? We won’t be offended by it.”

It was the first time I’d been told that my discomfort with physical touch wasn’t a problem or a burden for others to consider or remember. When I’d first realized how much I hated being touched as a little girl, I’d been called crazy. Classmates, family, and strangers would touch me anyway, because they thought it was something I needed to “get over” for the sake of making others comfortable.

No one will want to be your friend if they constantly have to walk on eggshells around you.

I can’t hug you? But I’m your grandmother, so I shouldn’t count. Give me a hug!

Touch is a natural need for human beings. If you don’t like it, there’s something really wrong with you.

Eventually, my concern for others lessened, and my shell hardened. I accepted that no one would accept me, so I stopped caring about making friends, looking at family as something that deserved being held to different rules just because they were “family,” or trying to fix what couldn’t be fixed.

These girls had never met me before. If anyone should’ve been critical of my boundaries, it should’ve been them because they had no reason to invest in me or my well-being. We were strangers. Yet they had already been more accepting of me than anyone else I’d ever met.

Other than one Mischief demon.

Other than my one actual exception.

I suddenly felt like I could breathe easier, and the tension in my shoulders eased. I offered each girl a smile, and this time, I was successful. “Thank you, guys. I appreciate that.”

Serenity brightened, and she practically leaned half her body across the table as she beamed at me with wide gray eyes. “I have so many questions about your ability to see ghosts!”

I chuckled lightly, her enthusiasm slightly contagious where normally I’d be hesitant to divulge information about my gift in this situation. “What do you want to know?”

The trio of girls took turns firing off questions.

Was I born with the ability? Yes.

What do ghosts look like? Us.

Does everyone become a ghost when they die? No.

As the conversation continued, I found my earlier anxiety over meeting everyone had completely faded away. Maybe I should’ve expected it, considering they were all dating literal spawns of Hell, but there was no judgement as they listened to my answers, nor any snide skepticism. Their interest, belief, and excitement was a stark difference from the reactions I’d received in my past, and I couldn’t deny how good it felt to be heard and accepted by my peers.

The topic eventually shifted to how everyone met each other and their demon partner. As I listened and conversed, I realized I’d forgotten.

I’d forgotten why Xander had brought me here.

I’d forgotten what had rattled me to the point of fleeing to the closet.

I’d forgotten what consistently tortured me.

I slowly looked out of the corner of my eye where Xander and the rest of his demon entourage stood. As though in tune with me, he looked over and found my gaze, too. The upbeat rock music, the hundreds of bustling demons around the room, the girl’s chatter at the table fizzled away until all that remained were the two of us and our locked eyes. The passing of time couldn’t compete with the affection that bloomed between me and this demon. The bubbling heat dancing around my chest was becoming too much, so I turned away.