The Ghost Host: Episode 1 (The Ghost Host Series) Read online

  I knock, and immediately get the okay to come in. Echo has her back to me, sitting on the floor next to an outlet where she has her curling iron plugged in. Her head is cocked to one side as she attempts to curl a section of her hair. I’m not totally sure why she’s wearing a glove on one hand until she wraps it around both the hair and curling iron.

  “Are you just a big MJ fan, or is there a reason for the fancy glove?” I ask as I squat down next to her.

  Echo laughs and lets go of her hair. “My hair is very stubborn and doesn’t like to be curled, I have to really press it against the iron to get it to do anything. The glove is heat resistant.”

  “Ah, good to know.”

  “Your sisters never did this? The humidity makes curling my hair even more of a challenge.”

  I shake my head, smiling. “My sisters would parade around the house in hot rollers any time they needed serious curls.”

  “Hmm,” Echo says, “maybe I should try that.” She unplugs the curling iron and sets it to the side. I offer her my hand to help her stand and she takes it without hesitation. It’s not until she stands that I really get to see her dress.

  She wore a dress to my parents’ yesterday, and she looked amazing, but this is a little different than a sundress at a barbeque. You’d think a shorter dress would be sexier, but the deep purple material cascading down to her bare toes does something to me. The top half of the dress looks like two pieces of fabric crossed over her shoulders that hang down as sleeves, creating a low neckline that manages to reveal her creamy skin without showing too much. The wide straps cross over her shoulders and disappear from sight, but all I want to do is run my hands over her bare skin right now.

  “What do you think?” Echo asks nervously. “Is it too much, too little? I wasn’t really sure.”

  I really have to focus on speaking to get any words out. “It’s perfect.”

  Beaming, Echo slips on a pair of black sandals and takes the arm I offer to her. As soon as we leave her room, Zara bounces over and starts gushing over how amazing she looks. Holden looks a bit stunned to see his friend so dressed up, but he proves his romantic disinterest by grinning at her as her gives her a crushing hug and tells us to have fun. Kyran’s the only one who doesn’t have much to say. He seems to be more interested in something on his phone at the moment.

  Eventually, we escape the apartment and find ourselves back at my Jeep. I open Echo’s door, but before she moves to get in, she looks back at me shyly. “You look really good, Malachi.” The emphasis I don’t think I imagined on the word really seems amplified by the way she bites her lip and lets her eyes linger. “I should have said that earlier.”

  “No problem, you had your magic glove to deal with at the time,” I say, trying to distract myself from my own thoughts.

  Echo laughs and steps up into the Jeep. I breathe in and out slowly as I walk around to my door. All I can think about is Kyran’s offer to stay away from the apartment tonight and his parting words from earlier. Going slow? I’m starting to have doubts, too.

  24: Clouded

  (Echo)

  I’ve decided that being labeled as the crazy weird kid at school was worth it if it means I get to have all these firsts with Malachi. Yeah, I’m eighteen and going on my first date—which is totally lame, I know—but it’s with the most amazing guy I’ve ever met. It’s like surviving high school earned me a secret bonus level. I look over at him as he pulls out of the parking space and wonder how on earth I ended up here.

  Smiling, Malachi offers me his hand after shifting into drive. I have to choke down one of those psychotic little girl giggles as I take it. I can’t help staring at him as he drives. Holden is the only guy I’ve ever really had meaningful conversations with or spent any significant amount of time with. He’s handsome, and a great guy, but Malachi is just in this whole other league for me.

  I love his smile, and his eyes always look like he’s holding onto this amazing secret—accept when he’s worried about me. Then they look like storm clouds about to roll in. I don’t think I’d ever really noticed a guy’s jawline before now, but I’m captivated by the strength in Malachi’s. His hair is what I adore most. That’s probably weird, but I love how he keeps it long. It matches his personality perfectly and gives him just enough boyishness to keep me from taking him too seriously.

  “So, where’s this place you’re taking me?” I ask in an attempt to distract myself from staring at him the entire drive.

  “It’s a restaurant called Apres Diem. Voted best first date spot in the ATL. You’ll love it. There’s a theater nearby, too, if you’re up for it after dinner.”

  Struggling to keep my excitement from bubbling over, I focus on the one thing he said that won’t make me jumpy. “The ATL? What’s that?”

  “Huh? Oh, it’s just a nickname for Atlanta.”

  “I swear, moving here practically requires learning a new language.” I laugh, thinking about the nonstop chatter from Malachi’s mom and sisters as we hit the thrift stores this afternoon. Most of the phrases they used made no sense and half of the rest went over my head because I didn’t have a clue what they were talking about.

  Malachi chuckles. “You’ll get used to it after a while. I’m here to translate whenever you need me.” He grins at me and squeezes my hand.

  “I think it’s sweet how you call your mom mama, but she kind of caught me off guard when she said I should call her the same thing too.” I can’t help wondering if that’s a thing here, to call your friends’ parents mama and daddy too, or if Mrs. Fields is just expecting a lot from my relationship with Malachi.

  The way Malachi shakes his head seems like answer enough, but he says, “Kyran and Cerise both call her Mama, but I told her not to attack you like that. She tends to get excited about things easily.”

  “Oh really?” I say with a laugh. I would have never guessed by the way she dragged Zara and me around every thrift store they knew, happily chatting and making suggestions all afternoon.

  Malachi shrugs and laughs. Parents. The rest of the drive flows by comfortably. I’m nervous, but not nearly as nervous if I were here with anyone but Malachi. Something about him is calming, familiar. We talk about all kinds of things, right up until we park near the restaurant and get out. As soon as I see it, that’s when the nerves hit full force.

  My family never ate out much. Not with the twins behaving the way they do and all my previous problems. Even when we did, this place is way nicer than anywhere I’ve been before. I don’t consciously sit there waiting for Malachi to open my door. I’m just too frozen to do it on my own. When he pulls my door open and offers me a hand down from the Jeep, autopilot makes me take it.

  I’m pretty sure I’m going to faint as we walk into the foyer. The beautiful leather sofas and chairs positioned around equally lovely coffee tables makes me feel a little lightheaded. All my old fears come rushing back in an instant. What if something happens? What if Archer shows up? What if I have to run away? I struggle to breathe as I try to process everything running through my head and calm down.

  “Carrots,” Malachi says softly as he pulls me into his arms so tightly my heaving chest is pulsing against his. “Nothing’s going to happen,” he whispers. The simple fact that he understands why I’m freaking out takes the edge off my panic. “Archer will stay away, just like he did during the barbeque, and none of the others will get in the way either. We’re just going to have a nice dinner, and maybe watch a show afterward. Completely average.”

  Every word he says takes my fear down a notch. By the time he finishes, I can breathe again, even if it is still a little fitful. My head falls against his shoulder and I take in a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  “Don’t be sorry. Just trust me.” He starts to pull back, pressing his palm against my cheek as he does. “Everything’s okay.”

  I believe him. My body begins to relax as his thumb trails back and forth across my cheekbone. He can feel me calming, his lips turning up a
t my response. I want to tell him thank you for staving off a panic attack, but our gazes lock and I forget what I was about to say. Suddenly, I’m having a hard time breathing again, but for completely different reasons.

  “You okay?” Malachi asks, though he’s grinning now so I’m pretty sure he knows what I’m responding to this time.

  I nod, not trusting my voice at all. The corner of Malachi’s mouth twitches. I swear he moves closer. He licks his bottom lip, but I don’t think he even knows he did it. Am I still breathing? I’m not sure anymore. Just do it, I beg. Kiss me. Put me out of my misery, please.

  I’m seconds away from closing the distance myself when a voice says, “Mr. Fields, your table it ready.”

  Malachi grins like a wolf when my mouth immediately drops into a pout. “You’re killin’ me, Carrots,” he whispers before turning his attention to the guy who spoke.

  I don’t pay any attention as we walk, unless you count staring at the back of Malachi. That I’m paying very close attention to, everything from the confident way he carries his shoulders to his trim waist and everything else in that area. I very nearly run into the back of him when we stop.

  Malachi pulls my chair out for me before going to his own chair. I’m still focusing on not screwing this up, so the first few minutes are relatively quiet as we look over the menu. “I love that there’s so much fresh seafood here,” I finally say. “I don’t think I could ever live too far inland. Frozen seafood just isn’t the same as fresh.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Malachi says.

  My being able to say something intelligent without hyperventilating seems to take down the tension we’re both still holding. Malachi settles into his usual easy charm and I manage to not look like a total spaz. The dark, cozy interior of the dining room mixed with beautiful artwork and a soothing atmosphere eases away any lingering nerves. As we settle into a conversation about my upcoming visit with Agent Morton, plans for the rest of the summer, and what movie we should see, time slips by without either of us noticing.

  Startled when the waiter brings the check, Malachi pauses the story he was telling me about spending summers with Grandma Maddie and thanks the waiter. He seems regretful as he pulls his hand out of mine to take care of the bill. A few minutes later we’re standing in front of the theater, only to realize we’ve missed the last showings.

  “Well, what would you like to do?” Malachi asks. “We could see what the others are up to, or just head back and watch a movie on your awesomely heavy new couch.”

  “All our movies are still boxed up,” I say. I almost suggest Netflix before I remember I don’t have my own account set up yet. Malachi probably does, though. “We could watch something at your place, if you don’t mind. I haven’t seen your apartment yet, anyway.”

  I was just saying what was running through my head, but as I look up and see the expression on Malachi’s face, I realize how that might have sounded. I try to backtrack, but I can’t really think as I watch him swallow slowly, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Uh, yeah, sure. My apartment. No problem.”

  Malachi turns, grabbing my hand almost as an afterthought, and tows me toward the Jeep. His keys jingle as his last two fingers twitch anxiously. He doesn’t look at me…won’t look at me. My brain seems to go on vacation, shorting out completely as I try to take it all back. The only tiny, semi-rational thought still functioning keeps whispering that Malachi likes me…a lot. Everything from his anxiety to his body language is screaming that he wants to run.

  We make it back to the car before all the conflicting thoughts in my head coalesce into something understandable. When Malachi opens my door, I turn slowly to face him. “Maybe…maybe you should just take me home. Call it a night. I…if you…I didn’t meant to…I think I just want to go home.”

  I bite my lip and stare up at him. His expression kills me, absolutely cuts my feet out from under me. I’m not even focused enough to know what I was expecting, but the hurt in his eyes nearly knocks the breath out of me. “Echo,” he whispers, “I won’t hurt you.”

  More than a little confused, I say. “I know that.”

  Now he’s confused. “Then why…why don’t you want to come back to my apartment?” He starts to reach toward my face, but pulls back as if he’s suddenly unsure of whether or not I want him to touch me.

  “Because you, uh, don’t seem to, um, want me to.” I stumble over the answer, prodded to keep talking when his face screws up in…I don’t even know. “I didn’t mean to push. I shouldn’t have suggested it. It’s fine. I didn’t mean to presume or invite myself over. It was stupid.”

  I try to turn away, get out from under his confusing storm of emotions. There’s way too much flying around in my head right now to figure out what happened and I’d rather just go home and bury myself under some blankets before I make a complete fool of myself…again. My escape isn’t so easily made.

  Hooking my arm, Malachi turns me back to face him. “Why wouldn’t I want you in my apartment?” he asks. For once, his expression seems pretty obvious, like he’s shocked I would think such a thing.

  “Uh…” How do I say this right? “You kind of freaked out when I mentioned it.” That sounded a bit harsh, maybe. Was his reaction normal? I have no clue. When have I ever invited myself over to a guy’s apartment? Never. I want to smack myself. I should really start thinking before I speak.

  “Not because I don’t want you there,” Malachi says adamantly. “I just…” He runs a hand through his hair, his fingers still twitchy with pent up anxiety. “I don’t want to push you, Echo. I don’t even want to put you in a situation where you might feel uncomfortable or pressured.”

  “And if I’m in your apartment…” I bite down on my lip, making it ache. I can’t finish my sentence. How pathetic am I? Me talk about sex? I must have been high to even be able to admit to him I was a virgin. Long distance bravery is the only explanation. I have no clue how to discuss this with him face to face. That is what he’s talking about, right? The familiar suffocating feel of panic starts creeping in. Am I totally off base?

  Suddenly, Malachi is yanking me into his arms. “Breathe, Carrots,” he half whispers, half demands. “This is why I freaked out. I want you like you wouldn’t believe, but I kinda expected a reaction like this, to be perfectly honest. Being alone with you, within twenty feet of a bed…you’re impossible to resist. I’m scared to death I’ll get carried away and you won’t tell me if you want to stop and you’ll hate me for it afterward.”

  Breathe. Blink. Swallow. Think. Say something!

  “I don’t know what to say to that,” I admit in a whisper.

  Malachi’s head falls, his forehead resting against my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I should’ve…”

  “Don’t apologize for being honest,” I say quickly. “I’m glad you care enough to be worried about…this.” I force myself to swallow some of my fear and latch onto the fact that I know Malachi is a good guy. “I’m scared, yes, but not of you. I trust you, Malachi. I don’t want you to be afraid of being alone with me. I promise I’ll tell you if I want to stop.”

  Malachi’s brow furrows. “Will you?” When I give him a quizzical look, he explains. “Holden told me how you’ve never really made decisions for yourself before recently. You let your parents or Holden plan out your life and just accepted what they said. Honestly, I don’t know if you will tell me, and that scares me.”

  Nothing he said is untrue. My parents ruled my life, made all my choices. I let them. I let Holden dictate my life away from my parents because I trusted him to protect me. The responsibility of making choices was more than what I could handle. It took everything I had just to manage the ghosts. All of these thoughts run through my head, but so do the memories of standing up to my parents, my therapist, Holden…everyone. It takes me a minute to realize when I took a stand.

  “I don’t know why,” I say slowly, “but meeting you changed all of that. The second I read your email, I knew it was time to stop hiding behind other
people and do something important.” My eyebrows crinkle as I try to pull my thoughts together. “For once, someone else needed me, instead of me always needing them. It was like I had to make a choice. Hide for the rest of my life, or step out and help you no matter what the risks were. I chose you.” I shrug, like that explains it, though I know it doesn’t.

  A huge chunk of Malachi’s edgy, twitchy fear falls away. His hand reaches up to cradle my face as he steps in, moving his body closer. “I’m so glad you did,” he whispers before pressing his lips to mine.

  Fear abandons me in that moment. I let go and give myself over to him, relishing the heat rising in my belly as his warm breath pulses over my skin when he pulls back for just a second. His mouth crushes against mine again, hungry and intense. My fingers reach up to tangle in his hair. He moans against my mouth as I pull him closer. My muscles tighten with desire and I’m silently begging him to never stop.

  Suddenly, Malachi pulls back and stares at me, chest heaving, fire in his eyes. There’s more than just hormonal lust in his expression. It’s not just about getting me naked, though I know that’s what both our minds are completely fixated on. He looks like he’s in pain as he pulls his phone out of his pocket and presses it to his ear after a few taps on the screen.

  “Hey, Kyran,” he says, his voice strained. “What’re ya’ll up to right now?” He pauses to listen, though his eyes are still pinned to mine. “Back at Echo’s…uh huh…not sure…maybe…yeah, see ya.”

  Malachi looks like he hates himself for opening his mouth, but he stares at me and says, “I don’t want to screw this up.”

  “Neither do I.” I press my hand shakily to his chest and take a deep breath. “That was my first kiss,” I tell him. “And my first date.” Malachi waits expectantly. I have to take in another deep breath before I can speak. “I want all my firsts to be with you, but…I’m not ready yet. Despite what my body might be thinking right now.” That last part comes out as more of a grumble, which makes Malachi chuckle.