Page 20 of Shadows of Nightshade
I almost choked, and my face exploded in heat. I didn’t know what he was planning, but this was the side of him that always caught me off guard—the one that made me think I meant as much to him as he did to me.
And every time this happened, I acted pathetic. “I do? I-I’m glad I could help.”
“You do.” He traced his thumb over my knuckles. My face grew warmer, and his grin grew. “Sit with me today.”
My warm feelings vanished.
I averted my eyes, unable to stomach the guilt. Under no circumstance could I let him know what I was researching. “Maybe…”
“Maybe?” Finn sounded surprised, and when I looked up, he was watching me with raised eyebrows. He let go of my hand. “You don’t want to sit with me?” He paused, and a cautious glimmer shone in his serious eyes. “Bianca, did something happen?”
“Not really!” I vehemently denied, my voice catching at the end. I had to find a way to redirect his attention. “I might have to go back and forth between the library and greenhouses throughout the day. I don’t want to disturb you.”
He rested his chin on his fist as he watched me. “You’re a terrible liar. Besides, you’d never wear a skirt and those shoes when you work with plants.”
I froze, curling my fingers over said skirt as I cursed myself for the obvious flaw in my fake plans. Finn was right, of course. I never dressed this way when gardening. I should have worn myleggings and the sweatshirt I’d borrowed from him. That would have been more believable. “Um…”
“What are you hiding?” Finn studied me, his eyes demanding answers.
I grew more flustered. I had to think of something else! An excuse so awful it guaranteed that Finn would have zero interest in being anywhere near me today.
“I-I…” My mental resources scrambled to find purchase, but nothing brilliant came to mind. So, instead, I blurted whatever next popped up in my head. “I’m writing a research paper on how to properly cultivate the benefits of ground placenta.”
Finn’s mouth opened, and my face burned. But I couldn’t stop now. “I have a theory that the placenta is—”
“Stop!” Finn’s complexion was slightly green as he watched me in horror as his disgust for bodily functions and parts remained strong. “Stop saying that word. That’s awesome for you, but I really don’t need to know any more.”
Crude, but effective.
“I’ll still sit with you.” I smiled at him. I had to make sure he wanted to stay away. “I just thought you’d be grossed out, especially because I might have to do some interviews too. See, I was also going to touch on using menstrual—”
“Just,please, stop talking about this. This whole thing. Stop.” Finn had buried his head under his arms. “I don’t care what you need to do to get into Bryce’s special class. Just, please, do your research far, far away from me.”
“Oh.” I pretended to look sad. And I kind of was. The reminder that my path into the botany major was subject to the whims of stupid Bryce Dubois and his interpretation of my biology term paper caused my ire to rise. “If you insist.”
I would, of course, probably think of a different topic when the time came.
“I insist.” Finn stood up and gathered his laptop. “The library’s open, by the way. Are we still meeting tonight?”
Tonight? Well, I did have a ghost to bond with. But I could spare an hour or two for food. “Sure.”
Unfortunately,I learned that Ms. McKinnen had the weekend off, and the front desk volunteer was no help. The bulk of my work would have to wait.
So, with nothing left to do, I decided to do some research on ghost hunting to pass the time.
Or maybe I was just avoiding going back to the house.
I found a private cubicle and set up a base. Thanks to the prestige of our anthropology and psychology departments, I’d found a rather sizable collection of paranormal reading material available to start.
Unfortunately, there was so much scattered information it took longer than expected to put everything together. As the hours flew by, the only thing gained from my efforts was a headache and a cold mocha latte.
Sensors, monitors, etc. None of that made any sense when it came to hunting a ghost.
After all… since I was able to see and feel the spirits, it wasn’t relevant. I might not understand my own abilities very well, but there was no reason to invest in technology and waste money.
But that’s how the professionals did it, right? I wasn’t sure.
Damen probably knew the answer. However, it wasn’t like I could ask him—I’d rather dramatically burned that bridge yesterday. But not understanding something—and knowing that answers were just beyond my reach—was making it hard to keep my resolve.
