Page 16 of The Most Unusual Haunting of Edgar Lovejoy

Edgar settled back, and Jamie snuggled closer. Edgar’s phone was showing a streaming video of the interior of the cat café. He’d just turned on a light from his phone, and the cats were clearly visible. Some snoozed, some played, and one ran directly into the wall.

“Oh, Basket, get it together,” Edgar mumbled.

“You tap into the security camera and watch the cats? That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Oh, well. Um. Not exactly. I installed the camera. So I could watch them. And a smart plug so I could turn the lights on to see them better.”

Jamie blinked. Was it possible for a heart to explode from sheer adorableness? If so, theirs was currently at risk. “Gah,” was all they could manage, and they squeezed Edgar tight.

They watched the cats, and Edgar narrated the video—where this one had been found or how that one liked to spend its time. He knew them all well.

Eventually, Jamie got up to pee and put the remains of the food away. They turned off the lights as they slid back beneath the covers.

“You didn’t get to eat your cake,” Edgar murmured sleepily into Jamie’s neck. His phone lay on his stomach, a cat snoozing in the foreground, paw twitching in dreams.

“I’ll have it for breakfast,” Jamie said and kissed his cheek. They picked up Edgar’s phone and moved to put it on the side table, but Edgar caught their hand.

“Will you leave them on?”

Jamie nodded and put the phone back where Edgar could see it. They imagined him waking at night, alone and scared or sad, soothed by his friends on the screen.

They put their palm against Edgar’s chest to feel the beat of his precious heart.

***

Sometime in the night, the storm broke. When Jamie awoke, it was to the Louisiana sun peeking through the blinds, the hum of the air conditioner, and a large man spooning them from behind.

Edgar. The motel room.

In the fresh light of morning, Jamie took stock of the situation and found that they wouldn’t change a thing.

Edgar’s arms were warm and heavy, his breath sweet on the back of Jamie’s neck.

The bed was surprisingly comfortable for a roadside motel, and Jamie wished they were here under more romantic circumstances.

But since they weren’t, they carefully extricated themself from Edgar’s arms.

After a quick shower, they slung a clean towel around their waist and went to wake Edgar. But Edgar was already up.

“Ugh, they’re still damp.” He plucked at jeans strewn over the chair, T-shirt drooping over his arm.

“They’ll dry pretty quickly in the sun.”

Edgar nodded but stared at his shirt.

Jamie crossed the room to him. “Are you okay?”

Edgar nodded again but didn’t meet their eyes.

“Weirded out?”

Edgar nodded a third time, and Jamie forced themself to let go of the dream of coupledom that had lasted the length of their shower.

“No worries,” they said, injecting their voice with a hearty dose of chipper. “The chances of us being stranded together again are vanishingly small. I won’t hold you to anything.”

Jamie squeezed Edgar’s shoulder as they walked past him to claim their own clothes. A quick, fraternal gesture to reinforce this new distance. This was fine. This was perfectly fine. Last night, Edgar was vulnerable, horny, scared. And this morning he…wasn’t. That was allowed. It was all fine.

“Hmm?”

Jamie looked up at Edgar with their friendliest smile.

Their sunniest, most self-sufficient, I-don’t-require-anything-from-you-so-you-don’t-need-to-deny-me smile.

Once, that had been their default expression.

One that projected nonthreatening, no-strings-attached opportunity.

It excluded no one and included no one, so it was inoffensive. Insulated. Safe.

Now though, it felt alien. Like slipping back into their seventeen-year-old self when visiting their parents and watching that same self cease to exist the second their door closed behind you.

Edgar scowled. “I said, I don’t feel weird about you. I feel weird about me.”

Jamie’s gut unclenched. “Wait, what?”

In one step, Edgar loomed over them. “Where did you go?”

“When?”

Edgar ran a finger over the corner of their mouth. “You smiled all weirdly, and then it was like you were gone.”

It was hot, dude, except… You’re great, only… You made me come really hard, but…

“I’m here,” Jamie said. “Now what did you mean about feeling weird about you?”

“I… When you… I really liked when you… And I guess I didn’t know that I…but I…I really did…”

Oh . Relief rushed through Jamie, along with a new understanding. Edgar wasn’t giving them a kiss-off. He was processing how much he liked being topped.

Jamie let the desire show in their eyes, and Edgar’s face went slack.

“You really liked it when I…what?” Jamie teased. They crowded Edgar back until his shoulders hit the wall.

Edgar sucked in a breath. He had a freckle on his left eyelid and another at the corner of his mouth, and Jamie promised themself that they would find every other freckle he had.

“Truth or dare?” Jamie murmured against his lips.

“How do you go from zero to so fucking hot in one second?”

Gratified, Jamie just smiled.

“Truth,” Edgar whispered.

Jamie had been expecting him to say dare , but this was sweeter. It was his truth that Jamie wanted most.

“You really liked it when I what?” Jamie repeated.

Edgar looked at Jamie so deeply it felt like he was crying. When he spoke, it was in a voice so low and thick, it was mostly breath and want.

“Pulled my hair.” He shuddered. “Bossed me around. When you took charge. When you took…care of me.”

There was no sound in the world for Jamie except the whispered confession. Edgar—strong, scared, lonely Edgar—wanted someone to take care of him. And Jamie? Fuck , Jamie wanted to be the one to do it.

They swallowed thickly but managed to get out, “Why does that make you feel weird?”

Edgar shrugged, but Jamie could practically read his thoughts in the air. Because I’m not supposed to. Because it makes me feel weak. Because, because, because.

“Maybe weird is the wrong word,” Edgar said. “Maybe I’m just…surprised.”

“Surprise isn’t too bad,” Jamie ventured.

Edgar’s smile was sweet and warm. “Yeah. Not so bad.” Then he reached for Jamie and tangled their fingers together. “Kiss me?” he asked.

Jamie obliged, and when they pulled apart, breathing heavily, the alarm on Edgar’s phone chimed.

“Checkout time,” he said in a voice that registered his disappointment.

Jamie swallowed their own, kissed him chastely on the cheek, and backed away. They stole glances at each other as they gathered their things and packed up the food.

Once outside, the heat instantly turned their damp clothes warm and muggy, a particularly undesirable microclimate that made Edgar pull his shirt off as soon as they got to the truck.

Feeling intoxicated with glee, Jamie did the same, loading the chandelier into the back and tucking their shirt around it for protection.

“Just have to drop off the key.” Jamie held it up.

“I can do it,” Edgar offered.

Jamie looked down at their bare torso and took a deep breath. “No, it’s okay. I can do it.”

They spun on their toe before anxiety could change their mind.

The office was so dark that the woman behind the desk probably couldn’t even see Jamie’s scars. But that didn’t stop them from feeling triumphant as they pushed the key across the counter.

I did it! I did it! I did it! pounded through Jamie’s head to the beat of their damp boots on the pavement, and they slid behind the wheel of the truck with a grin.

“You’re a fucking badass,” Edgar said. Then they held up the bakery cake and a plastic spoon.

“My life’s perfect right now,” Jamie said.

For a moment, they regretted the comment, not wanting to come on too strong. But with the sun falling on the bare skin of their chest, the promise of cake for breakfast, and a sweet, fascinating, gorgeous person in the passenger seat with the road ahead of them, nothing had ever been more true.