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Rubbing the back of my neck, I admit, “When I was a ghost, I didn’t have any physical feelings. I had some when we shared your dreams. It felt so real at the time, but the sensations pale in comparison to what it feels like to be with you in the real world.” I swallow heavily, my anxiety doing a whole dance number in my stomach, and look up into her eyes. “So when I tell you that I have loved you since the moment we met” —I place my hand flat over my heart— “I mean it started here.”
She’s quiet as tears build in her eyes and drip down her cheeks. Her lips twist into a weighted smile, and her chin quivers.
Panicked, I quickly start babbling. “That doesn’t mean I don’t find you attractive, or that I don’t feel anything physically for you, because I do. Ever since I could, I very much did. It’s really distracting sometimes, to be honest.” I hold up my hands as if to hold off her arguments. “Not that it’s something you should worry about. I’m not some asshole who makes my urges your problem. I can take care of myself.” The blood drains from my head as I realize what I just admitted to. “Not that I’m doing that every time we’re together. I mean, I do sometimes, but like a normal, healthy amount, not time for an intervention amount.” I rest my elbows on my knees, bury my face in my hands, and groan. “Please, say something so I stop talking.”
“You were my very first friend,” she shares, resting her hand on my shoulder. “Before you, I was alone—too scared to let anyone get close to me. Too scared that if anyone learned too much about me, the bastard would take my only safe haven away.” Her hand travels from my shoulder to my back, making soft, comforting circles. “Then I came here, and you befriended me even when I was sure you were a figment of my imagination.” We both chuckle over the memory, and she uses her free hand to tug one of mine away from my face. When I dare to look at her again, her smile grows even as her eyes remain bright with tears. “You were the catalyst to a life I never even dared to dream of. I love you so much that it takes my breath away. It fills me so completely that I… I don’t know how to describe it. I feel like it will burst out of me.”
“Like in Aliens?” I ask, because apparently stupid falls out of my mouth when sincerity is pointed at me.
Fortunately, my girlfriend rocks, and she laughs. “Yes, my love is like a xenomorph that will burst out of my chest, because it can’t be contained.”
“You’re so hot when you talk geek,” I murmur, leaning over and kissing her.
Callie wraps her arms around my neck and mutters, “Did you know that the velociraptor’s barking call in Jurassic Park is two tortoises mating?”
“Sexy,” I reply with a laugh and kiss her again.
This time I’m more thorough, parting her lips with my tongue, and she moans as she happily relents. She tastes like strawberries, and her scent of pomegranates and orchids teases my nose. Since coming back to life, every sensation is heightened, and I feel overwhelmed in the best way possible. She is my dream come true, and I want to exist in this moment with her forever.
We fall back onto the bed, and I relish the feeling of her body underneath mine—soft and warm against my larger, firmer physique. I rest most of my weight on my forearm, my other hand following the tantalizing lines of her body. Her nails drag down my scalp as she tips her chin up, leading my lips to her neck. Following pure instinct, I suck the tender flesh into my mouth and graze it with my teeth. She moans again, a husky sigh that sets my body ablaze.
Desperate to feel the heat of her skin against my fingertips, I reach underneath the skirt of her dress and up her thigh. She feels like silk beneath my touch. My heart hammers in my chest, and I’m so hard I’m ready to bust a seam when she relaxes her thighs, her knees naturally falling open. My kisses travel farther down, over her chest to the swell of her breasts, as my hand slips to her inner thigh. She breathes in erratic pants, tugging on the back of my shirt, until I finally sit up long enough to take it off.
Callie reaches up to cup my face, running her thumb along the planes of my cheek. “I love you, Felix, and no matter what you look like, I will always see you.” She places her other hand on my bare chest. “I see you here—your brilliant spirit, so full of warmth and tenderness. You are my shining light when things seem to be at their darkest.”
I didn’t realize how much I worried that her interest in me stemmed from this new body until she said those words. When she looks at me, she still sees the real me. The realization hits me like a freight train, and now I feel like I’m going to burst with a xenomorph force of love.
Guiding her arms back around my neck, I lean down and kiss her deeply. When we take our first gasps of air, I whisper, “I see you too. More than your magic. More than your past. I see you. A smart, funny, caring person who makes me feel so grateful to have a second chance at life, if only so I get to spend it with you.”
Seemingly too overwhelmed to speak, she tugs at my shoulders until I’m once again lying half on top of her. The sticker on the front of her dress crinkles under the weight of my body and feels slightly itchy against my bare skin. It’s a fleeting observation, gone immediately when her fingers fist in my hair, and she once again claims my mouth.
My entire being becomes hot, and all rational thought gleefully flees. Considering nothing beyond my all-consuming need for her, I reach underneath her dress. My hand runs boldly up her inner thigh, until my fingers brush against the soft cotton of her panties. She gasps as I stroke her through the damp fabric, arching her back and widening her legs. I’ve never done this before and have absolutely no idea what I’m doing, but I know what I want to feel—all of her.
Beads of sweat drip down my temples as the room suddenly feels like a sauna. Callie’s dress sticks to her skin, her body glistening from the added heat. I marvel at the way she squirms and bucks beneath my touch, and a pleasurable tension builds inside me, starting at my groin and radiating outward. I don’t understand how, since her fingers are currently clawing at my back, but I feel like I’m teetering on the edge of my own climax.
It’s at this inopportune moment that there’s a loud knock on my door, and we leap apart from each other like scared rabbits.
“Uh, who is it?” I yell, scrambling to get my shirt back on while Callie attempts to fix her dress.
“It’s your dad,” announces a deep voice from the other side of the stupidly unlocked door.
“Just a sec.” After quickly finger combing my hair, I stumble over to the door and open it, hoping to use my body to block Callie from view. “Hi, what’s up?”
The knowing, humored look that crosses his face makes it clear we are fooling no one. “It’s time to cut the cake.” Steven looks over my shoulder then does a sweep of my sweaty state. “Might want to take a minute to, uh, freshen up. Your girlfriend is welcome to use our bathroom.”
“We weren’t—” I try to deny, but he holds up a hand to silence me.
“You’re an adult now, son,” he states, his tone even and conversational. “What you do in your room is your business, but a word of advice?”
“Yeah?” I reply, squinting as I prepare for whatever hell is about to drop on my head.
“Maybe next time wait until all of your family and friends aren’t downstairs looking for you,” he suggests, a bemused smile taking over his face. “And you should probably lock the door when you’re… entertaining company. I don’t think your sister is quite ready to explain the birds and bees to Maddie just yet.”
The idea of my niece interrupting Callie and me is horrifying. It must show up on my face, because Steven starts laughing.
“I’m glad we understand each other,” he says, both eyebrows raised as he tries to swallow more laughter. “Now, don’t take too long. Your mother made your favorite—chocolate with strawberry jam filling.” Suddenly awkward, he rubs the back of his neck. “Well, what used to be your favorite anyway. If it’s something else now, tell her tomorrow. It’s pretty good either way.”
My chest instantly feels tight, and I do my best to hide the crushing weight of memories behind a tight smile. Since I was old enough to pick what cake I wanted, it’s been chocolate with strawberry jam. As birthdays of the past flood my mind, I can’t decide if I want to laugh or cry. Instead, I clear my throat and quietly reply, “Don’t worry. It’s still my favorite.”
