Page 16 of A Ballad of Phantoms and Hope
I start chuckling and she pauses, leveling me a curious look like she can’t seem to get a read on me.
“You don’t need to apologize. I’m sorry for spooking you. I’d be pissed too if I saw a guy standing over my body in a vulnerable state.”
The muscles in her jaw relax and she lets her face fall into that soft, welcoming expression again. “I have a hard time being around others. I know I’m strange and guarded. I’m sorry,” sheadmits as her fingers curl into my shirt. My cheeks warm again. I’m not sure she realizes what she’s doing. “For a moment, when I woke up, I thought meeting you was a dream. When I saw you watching me, it reminded me of something else.Someone else.”
Apologies after apologies. Someone thoroughly broke this girl.
Where was I? Where was anyone? It hurts me so deep in my soul that there’s nothing I can do to take the past away. In some ways, I think the past is all we ever were. There’s nothing to be done about it now. Not when you’re dead.
I set my hand on my chest, not over her hand, but close. Her eyes shift to my fingers and narrow with anguish. It’s then I know she wants to touch me as much as I do her. The air has already lifted several degrees.
“You aren’t a burden, Ophelia.”
Her eyes widen and she looks like she’s somewhere between hitting me or running away.
“You’re not strange. You’re perfectly yourself, wounds and all. No more apologies.” I quirk my lips into a small smile and hope thatI’mnot too odd for her.
She looks down at my hand again and nods, eyes lingering on my skin as if she yearns to run her fingers over my knuckles and trace my bones.
But she doesn’t and we’re left in the silence and dark.
Both wanting.
8
Lanston
I setmy black helmet over Ophelia’s head and can hear her soft giggles from beneath. Even though they are muffled, they bring a smile to my face. I notice the ends of her hair are wet but don’t think much of it.
“So you’ve really never ridden a motorcycle before?” I ask as I swing my leg over the bike. She shakes her head. I can’t see her expression but the way she grabs at her dress uncertainly sends a thrill through me.
Even though I want to let my gaze linger, I pull it away.
I think of last night again.
We returned to our separate sofas after our encounter. I had a fitful night’s rest with a handful of things running rampant through my mind. Yesterday was the first day since being a phantom that I didn’t feel so hopeless and melancholic. I didn’t think of Liam and Wynn for the entirety of the day like I usually do. My mind was encapsulated by Ophelia. Wholly and entirely.
We rose as the sun did, slowly and with drowsy eyes, and decided to head to Harlow together. A nervous vein has spread through my flesh, worrying over how she’ll like the residents I’ve lived with for so long and if she’ll find therapy as helpful as I did.
“Do you want to learn or to ride behind me?” I tease her, thinking she’ll sit behind me, but of course she doesn’t. My eyes widen as she straddles the bike in front of me, her dress hiked up to her waist and the soft flesh of her ass is practically in my lap.
I swallow hard.
“Well? Teach me.”
My brain takes a moment to catch up. “Um, first, you need to learn how to use the clutch and throttle.” I show her the parts on the crotch rocket and she observes, memorizing everything I say.
We try a few times, but the first gear is always the toughest. So after she can’t get it to catch, she sighs. “Can you get it going and I’ll just steer?”
I laugh and lean over her so I can reach the handle; she lifts her foot so I can control the clutch.
“Ready?” I shout over the roar of the engine as I rev it loudly.
She nods vigorously. The excitement is evident in her motions, and I wish I could see the light in her eyes right now. With my chest pressed so close to her back, I wonder if she can feel the erratic beat of my heart. The way it dips and stutters.
Have I ever felt this nervous around someone? That timid grin that you get from being around someone who lights your heart like a match spreads across my face. The giddiness she releases is contagious.
I take a deep breath before letting the clutch fall and twist the throttle. The motorcycle takes off fast. Ophelia dips down, scream-laughing as we race down the street onto the highway. Her shrills of fear quickly turn into excitement and she sits up more, letting go of the handles and spreading her arms out wide.
