Page 15 of The Love Bus

I woke up with a start, at first not knowing why, basically blind in the darkened room. But then I heard it again.

It wasn’t even subtle, a heavy but muffled thud that made the wooden bedframe creak slightly beneath me.

I ducked under my covers and froze, straining to hear over the pounding of my heartbeat.

Another thud. I shot out from under the covers and fumbled to switch on the lamp beside the bed, and that should have helped. So why were the hairs on my arm still standing up?

I swear, the closet door had been firmly shut when I’d climbed into bed.

It gaped open now.

Another thump, followed by a…moan? That was it—I was done.

I flew out of bed, my bare feet landing on the carpet as I swiped up my jacket.

It wasn’t much of a defense against…whatever this was, but it felt better than nothing.

Tugging it on over my shortie PJs, I grabbed my room key from the bedside table and bolted for the door.

I paused, pressing my ear against it, listening for any movement in the hallway.

When I heard nothing, I slowly turned the handle and peered outside.

Seeing the hallway empty, my breaths slowed, but just a little. Tarnished sconces illuminated the space, but there were also shadows…ghostly ones.

Because, of course, the shadows would be ghostly in the Stanley Hotel.

And even though I’d only met Babs this morning, we’d bonded, hadn’t we? So I wasn’t too proud to wake her up tonight. Room 405 was just around the corner.

It would be fine. As long as Morty hadn’t shown up for a visit.

With the key in one hand and clutching my jacket closed with the other, I stepped out. The door clicked shut behind me, and I suddenly felt even more exposed.

I let out a shaky breath.

Steering clear of the room beside mine, Room 403—the one that shared a wall with the back of my closet, where the sounds could have been coming from—I nearly jumped out of my skin when the door swung open.

And then nearly fainted in relief. Not a ghost. Just Noah Grady.

Even in my terrified state, I wasn’t immune to him.

He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, his hair rumpled, his T-shirt slightly wrinkled, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips.

But I wasn’t in the mood to ogle him.

Well. Maybe just a little.

“You heard it too?” I whispered. In that moment, I didn’t care about the little showdown we’d entered during the tour. He was flesh and blood human . Which meant I was safe from any unworldly entities frolicking around this hotel… for a few minutes, anyhow.

Noah’s gaze flicked toward me, though he didn’t quite meet my eyes. There was a hazy sort of energy about him, as if he wasn’t completely here with me—probably still half asleep—but when he replied, his tone was perfectly casual. “Heard what?”

“The…” I trailed off, searching his face for some sign of understanding.

He cocked a brow, running his fingers through his hair to smooth it off of his forehead, standing up a little straighter now. “Ghosts?”

I narrowed my eyes. He was teasing me, which was totally unfair considering we were currently standing in a famously haunted hotel . “Well, why are you awake then?”

A hesitation, barely a second. Then a shrug. “Couldn’t sleep.”

I didn’t believe him. Not for a second. But before I could call him out on it, he surprised me by saying?—

“Hey, do you maybe want to go downstairs? Grab a drink?”

I blinked. “A drink? Now?”

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, still infuriatingly unaffected by any unexplained thumping noises. “I mean, you look like you could use one.”

“What?” My hackles shot up out of nowhere. “What do you mean, I look like I could use one ?” Did he think it was unreasonable to be freaked out about paranormal activity in my closet? “You think it was all just was a figment of my imagination?”

Noah’s brows lifted. “That’s not what I?—”

“I don’t need you telling me what I need.” The words came fast, clipped, like they’d been lined up, just waiting to be said.

His expression flickered, and in the wake of my declaration, neither of us spoke.

Then his mouth pressed into a thin line, his jaw flexing slightly. “Right. Forget I asked.”

And just like that, I immediately regretted my outburst.

Cheese on a biscuit.

He hadn’t done anything wrong, had he? Just asked if I wanted to go down to the bar. And I was a little freaked out.

What is my problem?

“Wait.” I winced, and then added, “Please?”

I swallowed hard. Feeling like maybe the ghosts weren’t the only thing haunting me tonight. Like being told I’d overreacted by others…

Noah just watched me, arms still crossed but a little defensive now rather than relaxed.

Oh my God. This really wasn’t me.

Furthermore, just then, the idea of going back in my room—alone—made my stomach twist. And honestly, if Morty had, in fact, decided to visit Babs, I’d hate to interrupt…

“It’s just…I’m not dressed,” I muttered, hugging my jacket tighter around myself.

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching—like maybe, just maybe, he might smile.

And then I realized what he was thinking, “I mean…” I opened my jacket just enough for him to see my shorty shorts and tank top underneath. “I’m dressed—but I’m not dressed , dressed. I can’t go down to the bar like this.”

I motioned vaguely at myself, inadvertently noticing my legs, which I hadn’t shaved in at least a week, and crossed my legs self-consciously.

I really, really wished I’d taken the time to address that issue when I’d showered earlier.

Fine. Whatever.

Had he noticed?

Of course, he’d noticed. Part of me nearly rushed to explain that, until two days ago, I’d hardly managed to get out of bed, let alone…

But the words came to a screeching halt when I caught sight of that smirk again. Was it a sexy smirk? Yeah. I’ll give him that, but it was still a smirk.

“That’s unfortunate,” he said, turning away. “Good luck with your…ghosts.”

“Wait!” I said it way too loudly. “Wait, please…” Softer this time.

He gave me a pretty exasperated look. Maybe a little curious.

“What?” he asked.

“Would you maybe…” I trailed off, feeling ridiculous as I glanced over my shoulder. “Could you come in for just a minute?”

“You want me to…?” His tone held more surprise than anything else, but his expression—more than a little startled—had me rushing to explain.

“Not like that!” I said quickly, my cheeks burning. “I just…I need you to check…the closet?”

“The closet,” he repeated flatly, his brow furrowing.

“For ghosts.” In for a penny, in for a pound. “The door opened all by itself, and… I would really appreciate it if you could…you know, take a look around? Make sure it’s…safe.”

He sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re serious?” he asked, brushing the wayward strand of hair away from his cheek.

“Completely.”

“Huh. All right then.” Laughing, but still not smiling, he held out his hand. “Let’s do this then.”

I handed over my key, watching as he crossed to the dreaded Room 401, and because I didn’t want to be left out here alone, I followed him. Closely.

So closely that when he had to pause to tap the card, I bumped right into his back.

It was like walking into a wall—albeit one that was warm and breathing. For a second I froze, every nerve ending in my body firing off in a chaotic mix of embarrassment and that feeling again, the one I hadn’t felt in a very long time.

I had instinctively reached out to steady myself, and his T-shirt was soft against my fingertips. Underneath it, I could feel the taut lines of muscle. My pulse spiked, and I could try blaming that on the ghosts, but I’d be lying to myself.

He turned his head slightly, looking down at me from beneath hooded eyes. “What are you doing?” His voice was a little rough and his brow furrowed. I couldn’t tell whether he was annoyed, or…

No. He absolutely was not turned on. Chill out, Luna .

“Just…keeping close,” I answered, my voice catching. “You know, for safety’s sake.”

There went that eyebrow again.

“For safety’s sake,” he echoed my excuse.

I nodded, removing my hands from his…person, then folding my arms across my chest to play it cool. “That’s what I said.”

In all seriousness though, I knew I hadn’t imagined the thumping that woke me out of a dead sleep, so as soon as he turned back around, I moved up behind him again, close enough to catch that delish woodsy scent, but very careful not to bump into him again.

He shook his head and stepped into the room, glancing back at me as I crossed the threshold right behind him.

“I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for whatever you heard.”

Oh my God, even his breath smelled sexy.

Focus, Luna.

“By all means, then.” I gestured toward the closet. “Show me what that is.”

Inside, the room was exactly as I’d left it, down to my open suitcase, where today’s lacy pink bra sat on top of my other neatly folded clothes.

Since I doubted the ghost had any interest in my lingerie collection, I casually shifted to block Noah’s view.

No need to give him—or the supernatural—anything extra to gawk at.

But seeing the little smirk on his mouth, I realized I was probably too late.

Ah, well… I’m sure it’s not the first bra he’s ever seen.

Dragging my focus away from the thoughts that came with that , I nonchalantly checked the state of the rest of my room.

Luckily, it wasn’t too bad—or at least, there wasn’t anything else particularly embarrassing lying around.

The bed was rumpled, my strappy sandals still lay where I’d kicked them off, and my dirty clothes were heaped in a pile next to my suitcase.

Then, of course, there was the closet door, which stood slightly ajar, revealing a dark sliver of shadow like something out of a horror movie.

Noah walked straight to the closet and pulled it open without hesitation. He peered inside, moving the hangers out of the way, and turned back to me. “Nothing in here.”