Forever (This #5) (21 page)

Joe extends his hand too. “I’m Joe.”

“So how long have y’all been together?” Madison asks.

I notice Joe eyes me with a sly grin. “What is it now?” His lids close, and he puts his finger to his mouth. He’s not about to do what I think he’s going to do. “Six months?”

I shake my head, shifting my weight from one leg to another. “No—”

He squints. “Oh, that’s right. I’m getting ahead of myself.” He puts his arm around my shoulder, pulling me against his hard body. “Feels like forever, but I guess it’s only been…what…four months? May, right?”

My eyes bulge and I gulp. “Gabby’s wedding?”

He smiles. “Yep. The day you captured my heart.”

A small, nervous laugh escapes. “Would you excuse us for just a minute?” Tugging Joe a short distance away is like trying to pull a nail out of a stud. “What the actual hell?”

He smirks. “Role playing. Theater. Drama.”

“You’re absolutely in-fucking-sane.”

“You’re absolutely fucking gorgeous when you’re pissed.”

I ball my fists. “Stop.”

“Just play along.”

I roll my eyes. “You won’t kiss me while I’m dating your brother, but you’ll pretend to date me? People who are dating kiss.”

“We can just say we don’t like public displays of affection. That’s true for you, right?”

I throw my hands in the air. “Well, you’ve just thought of everything, haven’t you?”

“Ladies and gentlemen.” A man wearing a top hat raises his hand. “This is the call for the nine-thirty p.m. ghost tour.”

“That’s us,” I say. “And we are not role playing through this.”

Kyle and Madison come and stand beside us. “Trouble in paradise?”

Joe shakes his head. “Nope. No trouble. We don’t like public displays of affection.” He winks at me. “Instead, we like to fight in public. We save the gooey, grabby, make-up sex for home. Right, babe?”

Joe. Grabby. Gooey. Make-up sex. My insides do a cartwheel into a backflip. I choke on my laugh. “We actually just broke up. I’m only sticking around for the free tour.”

Kyle and Madison look at us like they’re characters out of Dazed and Confused. Joe points at me, laughing. “See. We break up, we make up.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m Sebastian. For the next ninety minutes, I’ll be taking you to some of the most haunted places in the city. Now. Before you go and say, ‘I bet they have these places rigged.’ you’ll see some of the places we visit are places of business where people will be carrying on normally.”

“Why would people pay to come if they think it’s rigged?” I whisper to Joe.

Kyle must hear me because his head is suddenly behind my ear, his front to my back. “We didn’t pay to come. It’s rigged.”

I huff, then hold my tongue. No kind deed goes unpunished, right? I think I’m going to want to kill Kyle and make him a spirit of his own by the end of this tour.

Sebastian continues, “Be sure to snap as many pictures as you can. If a spirit feels close to you, they’ll linger around you. You’ll see orbs in your pictures that you may not see while you’re in the spot.”

Even though I’ve never been scared of haunted houses or scary things, chills travel from the tip of my spine to the bottom. Sebastian starts to walk, and we linger toward the back. Joe motions for Kyle and Madison to go ahead of us. Thank God. The best move he’s made all night.

We walk for about a block. Joe’s hand has brushed mine occasionally. Everything that should be in my abdomen feels like it’s in my throat.

Sebastian stops in front of a tall brick wall with iron gates. “You’re at Sword’s Gate House. This is 32 Legare Street. This home was built in the 1800s and was the home of Madame Talvande’s girls school. She had a very strict rule against fraternization.” I pull my phone from my pocket and open the camera. Flashes go off around us. “One night, a student managed to leave and elope. This damaged the reputation of the school and upset Madame Talvande, so she built this tall wall around the home with these iron gates to keep lovers apart from one another. Her apparition has been seen watching over the bedrooms at night, and her footsteps are heard in the home.”

Sebastian starts to walk, and I snap a picture of the gates. “Interesting story.”

“Yeah.” Joe’s shoulder brushes mine. “Can you imagine being kept from your soul mate?” His eyes look pained.

My mind thinks about it the whole way to the next place. How horrible it would be to have found the person you love, but be kept from them for an entire lifetime.

We’re mainly toward the back of the group. Joe leans into me. “Are you enjoying this fall Charleston evening?”

I nod. “It’s nice.”

“What about your company?”

“Huh?”

“Are you enjoying the company you’re keeping this evening?”

I laugh quietly. “That sounded so funny. The company is comfortable.”

“That’s all? Just comfortable?”

“I’m not sure how else you want me to describe it. I’m having a good time.”

The group slows, and I realize it’s because we’re at our next destination. “The Hannah Heyward House. Built near the end of the Revolutionary War by the Heywards. It has been haunted since 1805 when Mrs. Heyward said she saw her son, James’ ghost. That was impossible because he was supposed to be on a hunting trip. Later, she found he died when his horse got scared and bucked him. His spirit has stayed in the home since that night. He mainly reads or looks out the window while wearing his green hunting jacket.”

“Oh gosh.” I swipe the tear that’s fallen down my cheek. “I expected to be scared. I’m not. These stories are so sad.”

Joe rubs my back. “Sam. I…”

“What? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” I giggle. “Did you?” When he doesn’t respond to my jokes, I furrow my brows. “Seriously. Are you okay?”

He shakes his head. He mutters something under his breath and we start to walk again. “This feels good, Sam.”

“Yeah, it’s nice out here.”

“No. I mean us. Hanging out. Our skin touching. It feels so good. I want to pretend you’re not my brother’s girlfriend and hold your hand.” He shoves his fingers into his pockets. “But don’t worry, I won’t.”

We walk in silence until the last stop. “The Old Charleston Jail. It was built in 1802 and operated until 1939. Today it’s a laboratory and classroom for The American College of Building Arts. Imprisoned here were many well-known criminals, including Lavinia Fisher, who was the first woman mass murderer. Many haunted things have been reported as well as misty orbs. On an episode of Ghost Adventurer, the voice of Fisher was reportedly recorded.”

More flashes go off, but I don’t even care about pictures anymore. My mind is solely focused on Joe, his proximity, his touches, his words, and his silence.

Sebastian says, “This concludes tonight’s tour. If you have a map or know the city and you’d like to branch away from the group and do your own thing, that’s fine. Otherwise, we’ll head back to the tour headquarters.”

Joe grabs my hand and pulls me into an alley.

My legs scramble to keep up. “What are you doing?”

He pushes me against a wall. “I can’t do this anymore. I can no longer pretend these feelings aren’t here. How can you?”

I bite my lip and look down. “Because I’m with your brother.”

“You may be with him, but he’s not here right now. Tell me you wish it were him instead of me. Does it feel as”—he does air quotes—“comfortable with him?”

“I enjoy his company too.”

Joe puts his hand over my chest and smiles. “Does he make your heart do this?”

I put my hand over his. “You shouldn’t.”

“I just did. Move it if you don’t like it.”

My body freezes. Do I? “What are you doing? What are you hoping to accomplish?”

“I’m telling you I can’t sit back and wait to be your second choice or for you to come to this realization that I’m the one you want even though I can see it in your eyes when you look at me. I can hear it in your breathing. The way your chest speeds up when I get close to you. You’re fighting this. Choose me or lose me. I’m done waiting. It’s fuckin’ killing me, Sam. I want to kiss you so bad. Let me kiss you. I just want you. That’s all I’m hoping to accomplish. You.”

I shake my head and slide under his arms that have boxed me in. “I can’t do this. We can’t do this.” I start to briskly walk toward where we parked. “You said in the carriage ride you didn’t take me for someone who condoned shady behavior. Well, I’m not a cheater, either, Joe.”

He catches up to my side. “Then end it with him.” He shoves his phone in my face. “Call him and tell him you can’t keep this up. Because, fuck, Sam. I can’t do it. I won’t. Choose me tonight. Can we please stop the whole we’re just best friends ruse?”

I stop in my tracks. “That’s what this is? A ruse? I’m sorry if I thought we were best friends.”

“It’s not. I’m just done pretending. It’s more than that for me. And I think it is for you.”

“What if I say it isn’t more than that for me? Are you giving me an ultimatum?”

He closes his eyes. “Yes. I’m telling you I can’t do this any longer. It’s all or nothing.”

Everything gets blurry as water starts to trickle down my cheeks. This is too much. I’m confused. Ryan’s good to me, but Joe’s right. He makes me feel things. But what will it do to Ryan if I dump him for his brother? What will that do to their relationship? It’s an impossible situation. Either way someone gets hurt. “Remember you did this to us. Remember this was you making me choose.”

“You’re the one choosing. You’re doing whatever it is to us. Remember that.”

“Damn you, Joe. Take it back. Don’t make me do this.”

“Say it.”

My word is barely audible. “Nothing.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say another word. I can’t bear to hear your voice.”

“Joe…”

“Definitely don’t say my name.”

“Don’t be like this.”

He puts his hand up. “Stop. Talking.”

I nod and we walk the rest of the way to my car in silence. What have I just done?

Ryan’s head peeps around the curtain again. “Hurry up, Sam. You’ve been in there forever.”

I wrap my arms around my chest. Why does he feel the need to keep popping his head in here? “I’m done. I’m coming out now.”

“You can just leave the water on.”

“Sure.”

I slip out the back of the shower, grabbing a towel, as he steps over the tub from the front. I run the plush white terry cloth through my hair, practically drying it, and then swipe it over my body until all the trickles of water have been absorbed before hanging it back up. Walking to my suitcase, I pull out a pair of jeans, a navy gingham button-up shirt, a hot pink quilted vest, a white pair of lace panties and a matching bra, and my boots. Once I’ve put everything on, I reach into my bathroom bag and pull a pair of monogrammed silver earrings Gabby bought me for Christmas last year and a pearl necklace. Comfort is my goal, which makes me think about Rebecca Barbie. I wonder what she’ll be wearing. My eyes wander to Ryan’s cell, then to the bathroom, and back to his phone. What the hell? I pick it up, swipe the screen, and click the texts. Nothing from Rebecca. Shaking my head, I put the phone back. This is ridiculous. He would never cheat on me.

After I pack all my things, I sit on the bed and wait for him to finish in the bathroom. I hear the water cut off, then he comes out with a towel wrapped around his narrow hips. His brown hair is still wet, and he’s cute, but in this moment, I realize he’s not Joe. He never will be his brother. As much as I care for Ryan, and the thought of causing him pain makes me ache, I can’t will this to be right. Love doesn’t work like that. I can’t be with Ryan like he’s a consolation prize. A good one. One most women would do anything to have. When I get back, I have to let him go. And if that means I end up with neither, I’ll have to live with that.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

Just tell him now, Sam. Why torture yourself through a three-hour ride back? Because this conversation deserves to be more than ten minutes. “We have to check out in a few minutes. You better hurry.”

“Eh.” He shrugs as he pulls a white T-shirt over his head, then a beige sweater. He drops the towel to the floor, pulls up a pair of boxers, and then puts his legs through some jeans. “All I have to do now is put on shoes. You hungry? I think we should be able to still get breakfast downstairs.”

I shake my head. My appetite has been overtaken by the constant gnawing of the acid in my stomach over what has to happen today.

“You sure?” he asks as he sits, slides his boots on, and laces them up.

“Yep.”

“So, last night Rebecca stopped by looking for Joe while you were out.”

Shit. “Uh huh.”

“Did you happen to see him around?”

I stare into his brown eyes. I don’t want to lie to him again, but damn, I don’t want to do this here. “Yep.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah. Where was he?”

“On the stairs headed to his room. I think he’d been out drinking.” Not a lie. Not the whole truth.