Shoot Me Down

Part 18

Sam takes me a little ways down river the next morning, claiming I need some time away from the house. Before now – when I was alive - a walk like this would have had me huffing and puffing, and probably sweating an embarrassing amount. Now it’s effortless, and we glide above the ground, covering miles in minutes, heading away from the houses. At last the river leads us to an open field, a stretch of earth without trees. The grass is so green, lush looking, and dotted with cheery yellow buttercups.

            “I come here sometimes, when I’m in dark mood,” Sam says. “It never fails to lift my spirits.” He reaches out for my hand, and my fingers twine with his. I glance up at him and catch him looking at me, his face is alight with happiness. My heart flutters wildly. I might as well admit it to myself. I’ve fallen for Sam.

            He leads me further into the field, and the tips of the long grass tickle my legs.“I can feel,” I gasp. “Sam, I can feel the grass!”

            He smiles. “It’s not just anger that makes you tangible. It’s any heightened emotion.” I duck my head, wondering if he can see my cheeks turning red. Sam steps closer, and we are suddenly standing toe to toe. I can feel the warmth of his body close to mine, and his presence fills me with heat, my body reacting to him. Ghost or not, he is more real than anything right now. In this moment we are more real then anything else out there.

            “The grass is very soft,” Sam murmurs, close to my ear and it sends tingles across my skin. I let go of his hand and sit down in the middle of the field, picking one of the nearby flowers from a patch of buttercups. I try to keep my voice from shaking. “Do you like butter?”

            Sam looks puzzled. “I guess so. Why?”

            I reach up and grab his hand, pulling him down beside me. “I’ll test you. Hold still.” I shuffle closer to, our knees touching, and hold the buttercup underneath his chin. He looks at me, amused. “Well, do I like butter?”

            I turn my head sideways and catch sight of the yellow reflection on his skin. “Yup, you were telling the truth.”

            Sam grins, snatching the flower from me. “My turn.”

            I try to hold still while he places the flower underneath my chin, but it tickles and I fidget, trying not to giggle nervously. Sam grins, placing his other hand on my neck, sending a delicious shiver through me. “Stop squirming around. How am I supposed to tell if you like butter?” he says.

            “Trust me,” I say. “The evidence is all right here.”

            His smile falters, and Sam tosses the flower to one side. “You shouldn’t joke about yourself that way. You’re beautiful.”

            My stomach flutters again, and I look away from him. His eyes are fixed on my face, and I look everywhere but him. “Breanne.” His voice commands my attention. I look at him again, very aware that his hand is still on the side of my neck, and he’s moved even closer to me. He’s still staring at me way too intently. “You’re so beautiful. I’ve watched you, waited for you, for seven years and every year you only got more beautiful. You just never thought so.” His face is inches away from mine, our mouths are a second apart, and part of me begs him silently to close the distance. I long for that connection. The other part of me is torn, not wanting the attachment to grow. I can’t be with him yet. I can’t go with him yet.

            Suddenly his lips are on mine, gently, just a brush that sends shivers down my spine. I let my hands wander, traveling up his body, smoothing over the fabric of his t-shirt to feel the hard muscles in his back. He kisses my neck, sending heat racing through me, and our mouths meet again as I tangle my fingers in his hair. He places firm hands on my waist and tips me backwards onto the grass, and I find myself on top of him, the length of our bodies pressed together so closely I swear I can feel his heart beat against mine. His kiss is deep and firm, and he presses his hand into the small of my back, as if he can somehow force us even closer together.