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I shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t know what was going on. I had to see for myself.”

“Let’s hope there’s no next time. I’d better let you get some sleep.”

Next time!

“Don’t go.”

His eyes widened. “You really want me to stay.”

“Very much,” I whispered with a shy smile.

He grinned, flashing even white teeth. “Okay. Lie down.”

I settled back onto the pillows. He disappeared, only to instantly reappear beside me, stretched out on my bed, which didn’t move as he did. His head was propped on one elbow, and he gazed down at me, while butterflies fluttered in my stomach. He was so close. I forgot to breathe—my heart stuttered and restarted, pounding frantically.

“Sleep, Beauchamp.”

How can I, with you here like this?

“Close your eyes,” he whispered.

“Do you sleep?” I asked, still breathless and staring at him.

“Sort of. It’s strange. Like recharging a battery. But everything stops. Everything. And I wonder if that’s really it each time. I haven’t decided if it’s frightening or relaxing.”

That’s really it each time? What does that mean?

“Oh.”

“Exactly. I like to watch you sleep.” His voice was soothing and soft.

“I’m not sure I’ll sleep with you beside me.”

He smiled. “I’ll pretend. Will that help?”

He laid his head on the pillow and closed his eyes. For the first time, I was able to really examine his beautiful face without him looking at me: his chiseled jawline with a smattering of stubble, his full mouth, his straight nose, and he had the longest, darkest lashes that fanned out across his cheeks. His hair flopped over his eyelids, dark and tousled and… hot.

“Have you done with the fucking inventory, Beauchamp?” he asked with a hint of sarcasm, and his green eyes popped open, twinkling with amusement. The bedside light clicked off.

Thankful the night hid my reddening face, I snuggled once more beneath my duvet and closed my eyes.

I’d never lain on a bed with a boy. It was odd and exciting, even though I couldn’t touch him and he couldn’t touch me. I knew he was no longer of this… earth? Dimension? Time? But it was great to know I had a friend.

I opened my eyes and looked at him once more. He stared back at me, his expression quiet and speculative.

“Are we friends?” I asked.

“Because I can’t be anything else, I’ll settle for that,” he whispered.

As I’d forgotten to close the blinds, the moon shone through the windows, and his skin appeared paler and his hair black in the silver light.

Because I can’t be anything else…

Hmm. I was developing feelings for this ghost. This boy. This man.

I frowned. Developing? No. They were fully formed.

Yes, I had a crush—a crush on a ghost.