Page 36 of Adored by the Grumpy Ghost (Mapletown Monster Mates #1)

Natalie

T he vibe is off when I get out of the shower.

Lindsay seems tense, but also smug, and Winston is nowhere to be found.

Lindsay tells me he went outside to repair a fence, but I’m guessing it was an excuse to get away from her.

She can be direct and come off as rude. If anyone can handle rude directness, however, it’s Winston.

I don’t take it personally when he stays away until nightfall. In fact, it’s really sweet that he’s giving me and Lindsay space to hang out. He knows she’s hurting, and she wanted a girls-only sleepover, and he’s giving us that.

Whenever I mention Winston, whether it’s talking about the house, or me gushing over how amazing he is, her mouth forms a straight line, but that’s okay. I’ll melt the ice between them soon enough.

I find him in the kitchen as Lindsay is getting ready for bed, and sneak a few long, passionate kisses before I head back upstairs to go to sleep.

The next day, Ivan, kraken shifter and owner of Mapletown Pestbusters, shows up at two-thirty on the dot.

He has a sharp, assessing gaze and a warm blue tint to his skin.

Lindsay gives him a wide berth, though it could be just as much about the bugs as the fact that he sleeps underwater, wrapped in his own tentacles.

When he hands Lindsay a quote after surveying the house, her jaw flops open.

“Six thousand dollars?” she asks, aghast. “Are you kidding me?”

Ivan smiles widely, somehow unaware of Lindsay’s mood. “Not kidding at all, ma’am. And I’ll need all living creatures to vacate the property for three days while the fumigation is in process.”

Lindsay’s gaze tips to the sky as she lets out a frustrated huff. “Fine. I’ll pull it from my emergency savings. How soon can you start?”

He pulls his phone from his pocket and starts scrolling through his calendar. “I can start on Tuesday, if you’d like.”

Lindsay turns to me. “Would you be able to find a place to crash this week? From Tuesday to Friday?”

My heart lurches at the thought of being away from Winston for three days.

This issue needs to be fixed, though, and I can’t ask Lindsay to delay it for such a selfish, silly reason.

I nod. “Of course. Vyla’s tight with the owner of the Pebblebrook Inn.

I’ll see if she can get me her contact over there.

” I shoot a text to Vyla explaining the pickle I’m in.

She replies about an hour later, telling me she has a spare room at her place, and I should stay there instead.

Are you sure?

Vyla: Of course, I’m sure! You can repay me by putting in a good word with your pretty friend.

I chuckle.

She’s straight, I’m afraid, and determined to stay single forever.

Vyla: That’s a bummer, but I accept. You still owe me a favor.

Fair enough.

Lindsay and I head into town for lunch before she leaves, and I bring the leftover pizza home for myself. We hug in the driveway, and she thanks me for being there for her. For giving her the slumber party she needed.

“Just promise me something, okay?” she asks, squeezing my shoulder.

I nod.

Her gaze shifts toward the house. Winston isn’t watching us from the windows, but I know she’s about to say something about him. “Pace yourself, okay? With Winston.”

A laugh bursts out of me. Surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I know you guys are all over each other, and don’t get me wrong, it’s adorable.

The insane lust phase of a new relationship.

I’ve been there.” She lowers her voice. “It’s just…

It’s been a while since you’ve done this, and I want to remind you that this phase doesn’t last forever.

I don’t want to see you hurt again. I love you, and you deserve the best.”

At first, I’m amused. The idea that she sees me as this love-struck tween who doesn’t know how to navigate a relationship is comical.

As I watch the taillights of her car fade down the steep driveway, I start to feel incredulous.

Lindsay shows up for one weekend and thinks she knows my relationship better than I do?

I know she has good intentions, but the nerve .

When I turn to go back inside, a realization halts my tracks.

How well do I know my relationship? Am I even in one?

It feels like Winston and I are more than just fuckbuddies, but we haven’t explicitly shared that either of us wants more.

A warmth fills my chest when I think about how Winston is with me.

How he holds me like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever encountered.

The romantic things he whispers when he’s deep inside me.

The tender way he cares for me after the sex is over.

He did my laundry when I puked all over my clothes when I was sick.

Then he braided my hair. Those are signs of something more, aren’t they?

I’ve had fuckbuddies before, and none of them behaved that way.

It’s upsetting that I don’t have a clear answer. The only thing I feel is unsure. Unsure how he feels. Unsure where we’re headed. Unsure there’s even a place for us to go.

We need to talk about this. I’m not going to let Lindsay get in my head.

I find Winston sitting on the couch in the living room, staring vacantly at the TV, which isn’t on. “Hey,” I say, sitting next to him and putting a hand on his knee. “We should talk about something.”

He doesn’t turn to look at me. His gaze drops to the hand on his leg.

I expect him to wrap his big hand around mine and entwine our fingers, but he doesn’t.

He remains perfectly still, and something inside me twists in panic.

I suddenly feel like I’ve lost control of the situation, of my emotions, and I wonder if I ever had it to begin with.

Has Winston always had such a powerful hold over me?

When did it go from being about just sex to what it is now?

The confusion and worry swirl together, causing my palms to sweat, and out of nowhere I blurt, “Winston, I love–”

“You want to end this,” he interrupts, not a question. He straightens his spine and faces me, a somber expression pulling at his features. “I think it’s the right choice.”

The words don’t register. They don’t make any sense, especially considering what I was about to reveal. “I, what?”

He nods, his gaze dropping to his lap. There’s something off about his posture, or, I don’t know. He doesn’t look like himself. “I heard Ivan and Lindsay. You’re going to stay at Pebblebrook Inn this week for three days while the house is being fumigated.”

“That was the plan, but Vyla is letting me stay at her place instead,” I say, panic rising in my throat. “Is that why you’re being weird? Because I have to leave for three days or risk being poisoned to death?”

He presses the palm of his hand against his eye, as if trying to ward off a headache. “No. No. Of course that’s not why. I’m just trying to be realistic here. We’ve had fun, haven’t we?”

My eyes sting with tears as a crack forms in my chest. I try to swallow the tears as the floor feels like it’s being ripped out from under me. “Y-Yeah.”

“I agree. I’ve had a wonderful time with you, Natalie.” He exhales, the sound heavy and dark. “But it’s starting to feel like there might be something more between us, and we’d be lying to ourselves if we thought it could last.”

I feel my lips tremble, so I look away, training my gaze on the coffee table.

Be strong. Be strong. Be strong. Don’t crumble.

“Why would that be a lie? I don’t understand.”

He looks at me like the answer should be obvious.

Like I’m an idiot for not seeing it. “This isn’t your house, Natalie.

” His expression tightens. “What’s your plan?

To convince Lindsay to let you live here?

Then what? You pay for everything with your meager wages while I do nothing, taking up space on a property that I can never leave? ”

He says it like it’s all so clear. So simple. That this was always meant to end for the aforementioned reasons.

Would’ve been nice of him to let me know.

“I guess I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

I spot his hand hovering above my shoulder, but it never lands. He pulls it back, as if touching me would burn him. A million miles between this and how he was not even twelve hours ago.

Where the fuck did this come from?

“I won’t be selfish with you, Natalie. You m–” his voice wobbles. He bites the inside of his cheek, and after what feels like too many seconds pass, he continues. “You mean too much to me to keep you here. Your future is brighter than this house. This town.”

My voice is shaky and quiet. “I like this town.” I wanted to settle down here. This town feels like home to me, or at the very least, a place that could feel like home someday in the near future.

“You have goals. Professional and personal that I can’t help you reach,” he explains. I have no idea what he’s talking about. “In fact, being with me would prevent you from reaching those goals. Fuck, Natalie”––he lets out a choked laugh––“I’m not even alive.”

My hands are clammy, and I can no longer sit still.

I get to my feet and stand in front of him.

“I don’t care about that!” I shout. “I want to stay here, in Mapletown. The job I have is the one I want.” What personal goals is he referring to?

I don’t even remember discussing any personal goals with him.

Other than being able to grieve the death of my mom in a healthy way.

“Eventually, I wanted to adopt a dog, or a cat, but that was off in the distance, and it was just an idea…”

He gives me an odd look that I can’t decipher.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He scrubs a hand down his face. “Regardless of what your goals are, we’re on the verge of something more than sex. I feel it, and I think you feel it too.”

I reach for his hands, but he pulls them away, his gaze turns cold and distant. “I do. I do feel it.” My voice is pleading.