Page 67 of The Haunting of Lockton

I sat up in bed and looked around.

We’d come crashing into the room last night, groping and kissing, and I hadn’t had the chance to scope it out. His roomwas simply decorated. The five-shelf bookcase overflowed with books though. Something my brother would nerd out over. Looked like hardbacks of the classics:Dante’s Inferno, theIliad, and volumes of Edgar Allan Poe’s work.

After slipping out of bed, I gathered my discarded clothes from the floor and quickly pulled them on because it was fucking cold. I then found my phone and checked the time. Almost ten o’clock. I had several notifications—a text from my brother and ones from my favorite brain-cell-killing game beckoning me to come back to play. I resisted the temptation and clicked the text.

Jules:Are you alive?

I tapped his name to call him.

“You’re awake before noon,” he answered on the third ring. “I’m shocked.”

“Good morning to you too.” I stepped over to the window. We were on the second floor, and there were no neighbors that I could see. There were, however, a ton of trees. The smear of red, orange, and yellow leaves beneath the morning sun was kind of pretty. If you were into that sort of thing. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Resting,” Julian said. “I’m mentally exhausted and need to decompress.”

“Because of the ghosts last night?”

“Yeah. I felt all their emotions. Their sadness and pain. Their loneliness. It was overwhelming.” He breathed out. “We could both use a day to recharge.”

“Works for me.”

Another voice then sounded from his side of the phone. “I got you another coffee. Looked like you could use it. One sugar and one pump of half-and-half, right?”

“Yep,” Julian responded. “Thank you.”

“No prob.”

“Is…” I adjusted my stance at the window, the wires in my brain sparking. “Is that Taylor?”

“Mhm.” Julian had taken a drink by the sound of it.

Last night, Julian had been too tired to drive, so Taylor had taken him back to Redwood while I’d driven me and Paxton to his place.

“Did he come meet you for breakfast?” The only explanation.

“Something like that.”

Or maybe not.

“Where are you?” I asked suspiciously.

“Our room at Redwood.”

“Holy shit,” I said in disbelief. “Did he stay the night?”

“So what if he did?”

“Oh my fucking god. You better not have banged him in my bed. But definitely tell me if youdidbang him. Because holy shit. I can’t remember the last time you found someone to—”

“Nothing happened between us,” he interjected. “Calm your tits.”

“My tits arenotcalm, Jules. They’re chomping at the bit right now. Like rabid little beasts. Give me answers before they detach from my chest and come bite you.”

He chuckled. “Taylor and I are just friends. And no, there are no sexual benefits to that friendship. It’s not like that between us. I just didn’t want to be alone last night.”

Guilt settled in my chest. I was a selfish asshole.

Julian wasn’t the same scared little kid he used to be who needed me to read him bedtime stories or sing him to sleep, but nighttime was still hard for him sometimes. It was when his anxiety was the worst, and his spiraling mind kept him awake. He’d never said as much, but I think he was afraid of the dark too. I often found him sleeping with the blanket over his head.