Page 21 of Ghost's Obsession

She’s growing something inside her. And yeah, it’s not mine, but that doesn’t change how I feel when I look at her. I’ve been trying to bury the feelings, but there’s something about Heather that’s calling to me.

We’re friends, but I want us to be more.

She’s trying to be strong. I’m going to make sure she doesn’t have to be.

Chapter 8

Heather

Dinner with Ghost sounds kind of nice after sitting in the garage by myself every night since I got here. Rather than wear my jeans and t-shirt which has become almost like a uniform, I pull out a dress. I put it on and brush my hair until it shines. Looking in the mirror, I realize that I don’t look anything close to good, but we’re just getting together for food, so I don’t think it matters.

When I knock, he calls for me to come in. I follow my nose to his kitchen and find that he’s set a nice little table for two for us. I tell him, “Your food smells amazing and your table is real pretty.”

He lets out a mock exasperated huff. “Save the compliments for after you taste my cooking. You might change your mind.” I can tell he’s joking by the tone of his voice.

He jerks his chin to one of the chairs. “Have a seat. I’m just dishing up the food.”

“Do you need any help?” I ask.

“No. I’ve got it. You just make yourself comfortable.”

I do exactly that, and sure enough, he comes with chicken, potatoes, veggies, and some heated rolls.

“Wow, you went all out.”

“If there’s one thing I like, it’s to eat. At the Savage Legion, you might have noticed the prospects cook for the brothers. I got pretty good at it.”

I give him an admiring look as he lowers himself into the other chair.

“Well, I can’t wait to taste it.”

“Maybe this is where I’ve been going wrong—making you sandwiches instead of full meals.”

“Oh, you don’t have to cook for me.”

“Yes, I do. You’re staying at my place and don’t have a way to cook for yourself. It’s my duty to provide for you.”

I look at him for a long second, then sigh.

“I don’t mean any insult to you, but I’m just not used to being taken care of,” I say quietly.

He tilts his head, considering my words. “You don’t have to be used to it. You just have to let me take care of you every now and then.”

My throat tightens. There’s no pressure in his voice. No angle. Just an offer.

And it’s so disarming, I feel something inside flicker, like maybe the armor I’ve been wearing has a seam in it now.

“I’m not used to it,” I admit. “People helping me. Paying attention. It usually comes with strings.”

He steps a little closer. Not too close. Just enough. “Not from me,” he says.

I believe him. God help me, I do. And it terrifies me. The words that come out of my mouth aren’t planned. They just… slip out.

“I think I might be pregnant.”

Ghost freezes mid-motion, one hand braced on the piece of chicken he’s putting onto my plate. I awkwardly take it from him and slide it onto my plate.

Meanwhile, Ghost doesn’t rush to fill the silence or make it easier. He just waits for me to complete my thoughts, and somehow, that makes it easier for me to keep going.

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