Page 83 of If I Stopped Haunting You

“What?”

“This.”Smiling, she dragged him toward his bed. He fell backward onto the mattress as she kicked his door closed and straddled him.

Yeah, Neil could get used to this.

Chapter 24

PEN

Pen’s arm was asleep, and as she blinked up groggily at the stream of light coming in from the window, she slowly pulled it out from under her, shaking it uselessly in the air above her. Yawning, she ran a hand over her face, brushing the sleep from her eyes.

The night before came back to her in waves, and when she glanced over at the naked man in the bed beside her, she smiled. Their legs were tangled together, his hand thrown over her hip, warm palm pressed to her bare skin.

It was strange to wake up beside someone. How long had it been since she’d felt comfortable enough to fall asleep in someone’s arms? Too long, she presumed.

Smiling, Pen pulled on her glasses. She settled back on the pillows, brushing the curls from Neil’s forehead. The bed smelled like him, like morning coffee and warm fires, like the beginnings of something that made her toes curl and her lips spread wide into a smile.

Her stomach sank at the sight of his new bruise, though, and the black and blue and purple blotting his nose and eye along the left side of his face. How had she been so ignorant? Ghosts were not corporeal. She should have known better.

“You’re awake,” he murmured, nuzzling into her neck. Pen pulled away her hand, trying to ignore the guilt that had wormedits way into her thoughts so early in the morning. His breath fanned across her skin, making her shiver as he tugged her close, arms locking tight around her.

“Only just,” she said, her voice thick with sleep.

She stretched in his arms, sighing against him as she took in the room. His room was like hers, the space immaculately decorated with the same four-post bed and the same cracked and aging leather chairs. Though her room was slightly larger, the memory of the man on her threshold, of the door leading up to that abandoned turret, had her shivering.

“Cold?” he asked against the shell of her ear.

“No.” She turned in his arms, frowning even as his fingers slid across her skin, reaching down for her hips.

“Then what is it?”

“Just… this place. This castle.”

“We’re going to be okay.”

“I sure hope so.”

And then they heard it: a softtap-tap.

Pen glanced up at the canopy over the bed, her brows pinched together.

“Did you hear that?” she asked.

Neil tightened his hold on her. “I wish I could say no.”

Slowly, he let go, and they slid out of the bed as one, pausing as they scanned the space.

Tap-tap.

Neil tugged on his pants, and she tugged on her shirt.

Tap-tap.

Pen and Neil whipped around, eyes wide.

“It’s coming from the hall,” she whispered as he skirted the bed and stepped toward the door.

“You stay here.”