Page 102 of Ghost

Luna

The guys still haven’tmade it back from their run, so it’s quiet around the clubhouse for a Friday night.

Tempe went to bed shortly after Steel left, and the few brothers and patch bunnies who are still awake are playing pool or darts. But I can’t sleep, and I can’t sit still. There’s a pit in my stomach.

I don’t believe in things like fate and karma, but I’ve always had good intuition. I can sense when something is off before I know what it is, and that’s what stirs inside me now.

Ghost texted me ten minutes ago that he was safe and just running a final errand with Steel and Legacy, so he’d be back soon, but it didn’t settle the bad feeling I’ve had all day.

Stepping into Ghost’s office, I sink into his chair and close my eyes. I breathe in the fading scent of him in theroom. I’m glad he doesn’t mind me being in here, even after the incident where I found his other phone.

Ghost doesn’t believe in setting up walls between us. His space is my space, and I’m still wrapping my head around what that means for us in the long term.

Since the first night I slept in Ghost’s bed, I haven’t been back to mine. But we haven’t discussed if that’s permanent or if we’re going through a honeymoon phase. I’ve been taking over his space with clothes and slippers and spending every spare minute with him when he’s at the clubhouse, but we haven’t defined what we are.

You’re my woman.

The statement alone could be taken as him claiming me, and he hasn’t corrected me when I called him my boyfriend. But I’ve also spent enough time with the club to know that it means nothing unless he claims me as his old lady. And I can’t help analyzing why he hasn’t brought that up.

Does he think I don’t want it?

Maybehedoesn’t.

I’m still learning so much when Ghost seems to already know everything there is to know about me.

Running my fingers over his desk, I focus on a picture frame that sits in the corner opposite his computer. He and Legacy are holding beers, grinning at their patching-in party. Their eyes are hazy, but the smiles on their faces are big and genuine.

I open the top drawer, and the phone Ghost used to message me as Rider is no longer there, but that’s not what I’m looking for.

When I picked up the phone, I vaguely remembered a stack of photos sitting beneath it. I didn’t pay much attention to them at the time because I was distracted by Ghost’s hidden identity, but now I grab the pile of photos and flip through them.

I’m surprised he has physical photographs when most of his life is digital. But as I look through the stack, I see the majority of them are from when he was a kid.

Ghost has always been half a foot taller than all his friends, so he’s easy to spot in all of them. His dark hair and chilling blue eyes steal the attention in every photo. He sticks to the background in most of them, but he’s all I see as I flip through.

There are a few pictures of him and Legacy. Apparently, Legacy was blonder when he was younger, which must be where Bea gets it.

Some are of club members; others are of the open road.

Near the bottom is a photo of Ghost sitting on the clubhouse steps talking to a girl I don’t recognize. They’re teenagers, and her dark hair is pulled up in a ponytail. She’s smiling at Ghost, who’s looking down at his soda can.

Her grin is so big her eyes squint, and as I flip through the photo stack, her grin grows with her laugh.

In the last one, Ghost is smiling back, which is rare for him, so I assume this must be Paulina.

Ghost said they were close since they were young, and whoever this girl is, it’s clear he’s comfortable with her. In one of the pictures, she hugs his arm, and they lookso happy. Whatever hardened in him over the years wasn’t quite settled yet.

I continue to flip through, and they get older. Paulina is wiry before her curves change the shape of her figure. The older she gets, the more makeup she wears, and by the time they are in their early twenties, she’s no longer that innocent girl on the porch.

She’s mature, and her eyes are darker. Something about her feels familiar, but I don’t know why.

Leaning back in the chair, I stare at Paulina—the only girl Ghost has loved. It doesn’t matter if it wasn't romantic; she had a piece of his heart.

I think about the family he built on this land and how that changed after what he lost. I think about Ghost, the biker, and I think about Marcus Jasper, the man. Paulina was one of the few people who saw both sides of him.

Sides I’m still figuring out.

When I reach the bottom of the stack, I’m surprised by the final picture because it’s of me.

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