Page 47 of Squad Ghouls

I shook my head. Why did he have to be so endearingly oblivious to the bullshit I was constantly telling him.

“Did you need something?” I asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Owain shifted on his feet, blushing a little. “I couldn’t get back to sleep,” he murmured softly.

“So you wanted company?” I asked, unconsciously matching his tone.

“Unless you’re tired. I wouldn’t have knocked if I hadn’t heard you and Ryan Jr. talking. Do you call it Ryan Jr.? My ex-boyfriend called his The Destroyer.”

“Your ex-boyfriend sounds like a tool,” I snapped.

He tilted his head like a baby owl at the vitriol. “You’ve met him?”

I crossed my sticky arms and looked around nonchalantly. “No, he just sounds like that,” I muttered petulantly. “Bet he couldn’t destroy shit.”

“Well—”

“I could destroy an arse better than him! He doesn’t know me.”

Owain was as confused as I was.

I cleared my throat to try and distract him from how pressed I was at just the mention of his ex-boyfriend. “Do you want to go for a walk? I used to do that when I couldn’t sleep. The streets of London aren’t exactly picturesque, but the pollution sure could clear your head.”

Owain laughed at my lame joke and grinned brightly. “I’d love that. The cliffs here are beautiful at night.”

I gulped. “Wait a minute. The…the cliff. You mean the sheer drop into death?”

“I know the best way down. Only three people have fallen off,” Owain said, grasping my hand and leading me along. He only stopped to grab a torch and pull on some shoes and a fluffy pink winter jacket. I barely had a chance to grab mine.

We were outside before I knew it, the chill in the air making me shiver immediately. “How are you not freezing your arse off? I still don’t get it. Do you have ice running through your veins?” Or ghosts? I added silently in my head.

“It’s a nice night,” Owain said. An ice-cold breeze drifted off the ocean and made my teeth chatter. Owain’s smile didn’t even twitch. “Brisk.”

I unknotted my overalls and stuck my arms into my sticky suit, zipping that shit up to my throat and shoving my jacket on over the top as I followed Owain’s light steps across the dewy clifftop toward the edge.

The moon was high in the sky, wispy fog making the ring around it hazy and soft. In the distance I spotted a lighthouse, the light cutting through the infinite darkness that spread across the water. The Last Resort was so far removed that there weren’t any building lights in the distance or noise pollution to cut through the crash of waves. It might as well have been in its own universe, one entirely separate from the city lights I was used to.

“Do you not get scared living up here all by yourself?” My breath fogged out in front of me.

“What’s there to be scared of?” Owain asked.

“Ghosts aside, because we’ve gone over how you feel about them…”

Owain hummed happily. “We have. Positively possessed.”

I shook my head, refusing to admit I was smiling. “…how about a serial killer coming up here, killing you, throwing you into the ocean, and nobody knowing about it for a month?”

Owain laughed, bright and uninhibited. He kind of squeaked at the end of every breath. “You’re funny.”

“You’re laughing. I’m talking about your possible murder and you’re laughing.”

Owain twirled on his heel, far too close to the edge of the cliff for my comfort. I grabbed his hips and held on tightly.

“Jesus, Owain.”

Those big eyes blinked up at me, as deep as the ocean that was their backdrop, soft lips turned up at the corners and hands resting lightly on my chest. “You wouldn’t let anyone kill me right now, right?”

“No.”