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Grant put his hand over his mouth so he wouldn’t laugh.

“You switched?” Myrna clutched her chest. “He didn’t tell me that!”

“Was he, uh…” Grant tried to think of the most respectful way he could put this. “Was he expecting you?”

Myrna scowled, snapping back, “Of course he was! How dare you!”

“I’m sorry!” Grant had never been so mortified before in his life, and Huck’s laughter was not helping. “God… please. He’s… he’s right down the hall in my old room, okay? Whatever room that was. That’s where he is. I’m so sorry.”

“Good night!” Myrna turned with a loud huff, exiting as quickly as she’d arrived, slamming the door behind her.

Grant flinched. “Holy shit.” He looked at Huck and then burst out laughing. “I can’t believe that just happened! Oh my God. Do you think I should call Finn and warn him?”

“I guess it depends,” Huck mused.

“On?”

“Whether or not you believe Finn was really gonna tap that.”

“I… have no idea.” Grant laughed, reaching out for Huck’s hand. “I swear he and Cary have a thing going on behind the scenes, but I don’t know. Does, uh, Myrna often visit her guests in lingerie?”

“Can’t say I’ve ever noticed.” Huck laced their fingers together, and he pulled back his hood. His hair was a mane of thick curls styled into a full afro that framed his handsome face. He frowned. “What? You’re staring at me all crazy.”

“Sorry! I just… it’s silly, but I had no idea you had that much hair hiding under there.” Grant didn’t want to mention that Huck was wearing hats or hoodies in the few pictures he’d seen online.

“Oh? Yeah.” Huck chuckled. “My dad’s white, and my mom’s parents are from Puerto Rico. They both had super thick curly hair, but my mama’s is as straight as a damn stick. We always used to joke that their hair skipped her and it all came to me.” He grinned. “Hey, I just remembered that.”

“Yeah?” Grant was delighted by how happy Huck was. “That’s awesome!”

“Oh! Huck Betts!”

“What?”

“Huck Betts.” Huck beamed. “He was one of the pitchers for the Braves when they were the Boston Braves way back in the thirties. We used to live in Georgia, and my parents met at a Braves game. When my dad asked my mom out, she challenged him to a trivia contest to see if he was a legit super fan like her. The final question was who wore the number fifteen during the teams’ worst season in 1935.”

“Huck Betts?”

“You got it. Fifteen became their lucky number after that too. They even got married on the fifteenth of May. Oh! I just remembered something else too.” Huck’s smile had a playful edge to it now, and he was definitely drawing in closer.

Grant’s heart started to thump again, and he asked, “Uh, what is it?”

“Well,” Huck said, “right before Myrna busted in here in her mating outfit, we were about to kiss.”

“Yeah, uh, we were, huh?”

“Yup.”

Grant shivered as Huck’s fingers lightly stroked his cheek. They were cool and rough in spots from thick calluses, and he couldn’t believe howaliveHuck felt. Grant had no idea how long he could keep this up, but he continued to pass along energy between their joined hands, hoping to hang on to this for as long as he could.

He could sense a small rush of energy surging in reply, and he could only assume that Huck was sharing his own energy somehow so as to not drain Grant. He didn’t know such a thing was possible, but it had to be how they were able to maintain this physical connection for so long.

Then again, Grant reasoned, he’d never tried to hold hands and make out with a ghost before, and he couldn’t resist imagining the other physical connections that might be possible.

“Maybe we… try that again?” Huck asked, his head tilting in, his eyes moving over Grant’s lips.

“Yeah. For sure. Definitely.” Grant couldn’t help how he was shaking with excitement, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually kissed someone. He wasn’t sure if this was weird—okay, it had to be at least alittleweird because Huck was definitely a ghost—but he wanted him so much.

They’d had such a blast gushing over zombies and comics, and Grant hadn’t had this much fun in ages. Huck made him laugh, made him feel relaxed and happy and even attractive, and he didn’t care that Huck was still mostly see-through and didn’t exactly have a pulse.

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