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“Mmm,” Blake says.
“No,” I protest. “No, mmms.”
Blakes wrings her fingers as if she’s nervous to pose the next question. “Is it at all possible you still have feelings for him?”
Before I can even process the horrors of the question, the alarm on my phone goes off.
Saved by the bell.
I stand up. “Sorry, that’s the hormone police. I have to go home and take my shot.”
Blake follows me into the kitchen, where I put on my coat and retrieve my bag.
“You want me to come with you?”
“No, don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Like always. The hugs helped.” I throw a side glance at the couch. “And the sweets. Gabriel’s a real keeper.”
“I know,” Blake says.
“Have you told him yet?”
My best friend shakes her head.
“Why not?”
“Because once I tell him I love him, I can’t take it back.”
I zip up my coat and move to the door. “Why would you want to take it back?”
Blake studies me with a weird expression as if she’s having some kind of epiphany. “No reason.”
We hug goodnight, and as I pull Blake in, I whisper in her ear, “Don’t repeat my mistakes; don’t let a bad breakup keep you from trusting anyone.”
We let go, and she nods at me in a sort of I’m-going-to-be-brave way.
I head home, still not sure I’ll be able to face my ghosts alone. Ghost—singular. I should order a proton pack off the internet. Pity it probably wouldn’t work on John. The ghost haunting me isn’t made of whimsical energy leftovers, he’s flesh and bones, and blue eyes, and dark hair, and sexy dimples, and I have to stop.
9
JOHN
“Daddy!” Nora barrels into me the moment I step foot into my parents’ home in Bay Ridge, the Brooklyn neighborhood where I grew up.
“Hey, Nora Bora!” I scoop her up in a bear hug, and she buries her face against my neck while clinging to me with her tiny fingers, hanging on for dear life the way she’s been doing since her mother left. “Did you miss me?”
She nods, and then she presses one cheek against mine.
“Well, I missed you, too. How about you show me your smile?”
She flashes her perfect tooth gap, and my heart melts a little.
I give her a squeeze. “Okay, enough mushy stuff. Did you do all your homework?”
“Yes, Daddy.” Nora wrinkles her nose. “Can we eat now? Grandma made her famous pot roast.”
“And did you help?”
“Yes, I helped cut the vegetables, but being careful not to cut my fingers.”
