Halloween Boo

by Spade, Sarah

  Whoa. Can he move.

  He starts out slow, rocking back and forth as he pulls nearly all the way out before shoving his way back in. When I prove that I can take him, matching stroke for stroke, he picks up his pace. I roll my hips, inviting him in. Our skin slaps together.

  “Faster,” I moan.

  He obliges.

  There’s something about the two of us together. I was amazed by how fast he came after I put my mouth on him. He returns the favor by angling his body in such a way that his cock goes to town on my pussy while his thigh hits right into my clit on every stroke.

  My legs are wrapped around his back, my hands clutching his forearms as his frantic pace starts to shift me across the sheets. I feel my orgasm brewing and I use his strength to propel my body faster, basically impaling me on his length.

  “Yes, yes, yes.” That’s just what I need. It’s hitting me in the absolute right spot. “Just. Like. That.”

  It’s like a burst of fireworks behind my eyes. I don’t even know when I closed them. My whole body screams in release as the orgasm hits like a brick.

  As I come down from my climax, I realize that Zack is still pounding away. His rhythm quickly lifts me back up and I pop from a second, gentler orgasm as he ruts like a beast in heat. He’s chasing something—or giving me everything—I don’t know, but I hear him chanting my name under his breath as he fucks me.

  I cling to his arms and hold on for the ride.

  Right when I feel the thread in my lower belly snap for a third time, I feel Zack go rigid. He pauses for only a second, then redoubles his efforts. On a shout, he jerks his body and empties right into me.

  He doesn’t pull out right away. The two of use stay connected, sweat slicking our skin, this moment in time something no one can take from us. I feel the pulse in Zack’s veins, hear the thud in his heart, and I think for a second how terrible it is that it’s going to stop any minute now.

  His erection goes down some, though he’s still hard enough that he keeps his cock buried inside of me. His strength holds out for a few leisurely strokes before his arms give and he collapses on top of me.

  Zack’s lips find my temple. “Thank you for that.”

  If I could find my voice, I might’ve said the same thing to him.

  Instead, I struggle to get my own breath back. Zack’s weight is comforting, even if it makes it harder for me to get in air.

  There’s a good chance my ghost boned me to death.

  I smile into his chest.

  It would be worth it if he did.

  * * *

  Midnight comes.

  Damn it.

  When we realize there’s not enough time for another round, Zack gets dressed—well, he climbs back into his jeans, at least. I don’t bother. Grabbing an oversized tee and shimmying it on over my head, I follow Zack out of the bedroom and into the living room.

  We only have minutes left. Three, if we’re lucky.

  I don’t know what to say. Twenty-four hours ago, he was a ghost, a feeling, a joke with Allison. He was Casper.

  And now he’s Zack.

  How do you say goodbye to a ghost? How do you fall in love with one?

  I don’t have an answer to that first question.

  The second one is easy: you just do.

  Crap.

  Leave it to me to fall in love with a flippin’ ghost.

  Zack is staring at the grandfather clock in the corner of my living room. It’s an old antique that Allison helped me find when we were first furnishing this apartment. I liked it because it has character.

  Now I want to smash it, if only that would stop time.

  “One minute left, Dani.”

  One minute left. I better make it count.

  He hasn’t taken his eyes off the old clock yet. I shuffle in front of him, tearing his gaze away. Reaching up on my tiptoes, I frame his face with my hands. With the bong of the old grandfather clock ringing in my ear, I kiss him with everything I have.

  —nine

  —ten

  —eleven

  I pull back in time to see the tears glistening in his eyes.

  “I love you, Dani,” he whispers.

  “I’ll be waiting for you next Halloween,” I promise.

  Zack’s swollen lips quirk up in a small smile.

  And then, just as the clock strikes midnight, he’s gone.

  9

  Zack

  I come to with a gasp.

  The first thing I notice is the incessant beeping. It’s like a drumbeat in the back of my aching skull.

  Taking a deep breath, my nose fills with the stench of industrial cleaner and a really strong disinfectant. Almost too clean, like someone is trying to cover up another odor.

  My eyes feel like sandbags. It takes all the energy I have to lift my lids. A blinding light sears my retinas. I clamp them shut.

  What the hell?

  A few minutes go by before I think I have the strength the try again. This time, I crack my eyes open a sliver.

  My eyes adjust. And that’s when I see that I’m laying down.

  I haven’t laid down in ages. Ghosts don’t sleep.

  Confused and disoriented, I glance down my body. There’s a pinch in my arm. Is that… is that an IV line inserted in the crook of my elbow? I move to get a better look and notice there’s a tug against my chest. With my free hand, I lift up the paper covering my torso and see the countless amount of patches and wires stuck to my skin.

  What is going on here?

  What’s wrong with me?

  I don’t know. I don’t like it, either.

  Grabbing a fistful of the wires, I yank.

  And that’s when all hell breaks loose.

  * * *

  At first, the nurses and the orderlies try to calm me down. They threaten to sedate me, and go through with the threat when I try to rip the wires off of my chest again.

  Some fancy doctor comes in much later, when I’m groggy and even more confused than before. Whether it’s a result of the medicine or not, none of his medical mumbo jumbo makes any sense to me.

  Then my family arrives. Mom first, tears streaming down her face. Dad, whose cheeks are red and ruddy, his eyes suspiciously wet. Emotion overtakes both of them and Dad has to help Mom out when I demand to know what I’m doing strapped down in a hospital bed.

  They send my baby brother in to explain everything. Emile is nearly ten years younger than am. The first thing I notice about him? The baby face I remember isn’t as young as it once was. Somehow, someway, my baby bro is now a man.

  Sitting gingerly at the edge of my bed as if he thinks I’m gonna break, Emile makes me promise that I won’t ask questions or interrupt while he tries to make sense of what happened to me. I give him my promise easily because he’s the one who has the answers.

  And I need those answers.

  He tells me quick. I guess he figures it’s like a band-aid: do it quick and it won’t sting so bad. Smart kid. Doesn’t really soften the blow, though.

  Two. Years.

  I was in a coma for two years.

  I was never really dead. I just slept like I was.

  The icing on the cake?

  I wound up in a coma due to swelling in my brain because, two years ago, I was hit by a bus.

  A fucking bus.

  They’d given up hope that I’d ever wake up again. Emile tells me that he was certain I’d recover, that my parents refused to pull the plug because they were convinced. I’ve spent the last two years in a coma, lying flat on my back in a hospital bed while my messed up brain convinced me I was a ghost.

  Maybe I was. Talk about an out of body experience.

  I remember every detail of what happened to me while I was “dead”. From appearing in that apartment to meeting Dani, falling in love with her, then having the best night of my life on Halloween, I remember it all.

  I definitely don’t remember getting hit by a bus.

  Emile is adamant that it happened. Since I’
m talking to my brother and I’m hooked up to more wires than I can count, I’ve got to admit that he’s telling the truth.

  Still.

  Emile pokes me in the knee. When I don’t crumble into a million pieces, he scoots closer. “Listen, Zack. The doctors called us a couple of days ago, before you woke up. They didn’t want us to get our hopes us, but they said there were signs of brain activity. And…”

  I don’t like the way he stops talking. “And what?”

  “You got hard, dude.”

  I blink. “What?”

  “Seriously. It happened a couple a days ago. I don’t know what these doctors are looking for, but the head guy told Mom and Dad that all this time you’ve been a limp noodle. Then, all of a sudden, hard.”

  I have the sudden desire to pull the sheet up over my head. At least Emile is enjoying this. It’s clear how much he’s missed me, missed having a brother to fuck with.

  I don’t take that away from him. It… it doesn’t seem right to.

  With a sigh, I ask, “What else?”

  “It happened again.”

  Of course, it did.

  “Mom was here on Halloween. I swear to God, you’ve never seen a woman so happy to see her son get a boner.” He gives me a shit-eating grin. “But don’t worry, bro. The nurses shuffled her out of here before you creamed your hospital gown.”

  I don’t know if I’m more embarrassed that my body in this bed reacted the same way as I did when I was with Dani in hers or that one of the faceless nurses that keep on coming and going had to clean up my spill and handle my cock.

  I promise myself then and there that, when I find Dani again, I won’t tell her about that.

  I’m pretty sure my girl won’t be happy to hear another woman had her hands on me, even if I was in a coma.

  Because, now that I’m not in a coma, Dani is even more my girl. I just have to get the hell out of this hospital bed and find her first.

  Emile is smirking at me. Since I’m still kind of reeling over the fact that Mom saw me get an erection, I throw a hospital pillow at him. He doesn’t even bother dodging it. No point. The pillow doesn’t even make it halfway to him.

  Holy shit, I’m weak.

  My dick isn’t the only thing that was limp. My arms feel like rubbery noodles. To my utmost embarrassment, they give me a bedpan to use at first since my legs are too weak to stand. I’m so tired, it feels like I could sleep for a year.

  Then I remember I did—technically—for two years. And I perk back up.

  Emile stays in my room the first two days I’m awake. Mom and Dad keep coming and going. I don’t know what they’re doing at first and then Dad says that they’re talking with my doctors about a game plan going forward.

  Considering all I want to do is get up and go see Dani again, I’m not too concerned with all that.

  I know I can’t tell my family about her. Not yet. They wouldn’t understand. Shit, I barely do—and it happened to me. The one thing I’m sure of is that my feelings for her didn’t die when I came back to life.

  If anything, I want her more.

  I can’t tell my family that I fell in love while I was in a coma. But I do mention that, whatever the game plan they’re trying to come up with, all I want to do is go home and get back to living my life.

  And that’s when Emile admits that my parents had everything moved out of my apartment. When the hospital finally discharges me, I won’t be going back to my old place. They all expect me to move back in with my parents.

  Hope thuds in my chest at my brother’s confession.

  My cheesy grin is probably not what Emile is expecting from me. What grown ass man wants to move in with his parents when he’s in his early thirties? Even after such a near-fatal accident?

  But that’s not why I’m smiling. Because, sure, that apartment might not be mine anymore. Doesn’t mean that I don’t know who it belongs to now.

  I’m also positive that that is where I’m going to find Dani.

  And that makes my second life that much easier.

  * * *

  They keep me in the private hospital for the first two weeks of November before moving me to a rehabilitation facility, all on the bus company’s dime.

  I try to convince my parents that I don’t need to go to rehab, but Emile gets tired of our back and forth arguing and shuts me up by taking the compact out of Mom’s purse and showing me what I look like.

  After two years on a liquid diet, my body has wasted enough that I barely recognize myself in the mirror. And if I can’t recognize myself, how can I expect Dani to?

  She only saw me as a solid human for one day and I looked the way I did before I ended up in a coma. A big burly guy, muscular frame, tan complexion, ruddy skin and a head of hair most fellas would kill for.

  My poor head is almost naked, my hair is buzzed so short. I’ve lost all color in the two years I’ve been in the hospital, so I definitely look more like Casper than I do Zack Banks. I’ve lost a ton of my muscle mass and I can barely walk around my room without getting winded at first.

  With what I have in mind when I see Dani again, I know I’ll need my strength.

  I’m there for five weeks. At first, they try to stick me in a wheelchair but I’m out of that by the third day. Every day I’m growing stronger, getting bigger, and more and more desperate to get out and find my girl.

  Five weeks of intense physical therapy, training, and work. I do every damn thing the doctors tell me. My hair starts to grow in, my body fills out, and Emile stops teasing me about my boner after the first time I’m quick enough to slug him in his arm.

  It’s toward the end of December when my doctors finally pronounce me fit enough to move back home.

  My parents wanted to come pick me up from the rehab center. It’s been seven weeks since I woke up. I know the coma scared the shit out of them and they’re watching anxiously to see if I’ll relapse, but I can’t stand the way they keep treating me like a kid.

  When Mom said she’d drive me back to her place, I put my foot down. I’d rather walk. She insisted. I flat out denied her. She cried. I relented. Emile shook his head and said he’d drive me over.

  I jumped at the chance.

  Because I don’t have a way to get around on my own. When Emile told me about my accident, he had to admit that my bike was in even worse shape than I was. I at least had a helmet and a hard head so while my injury was bad, my brains didn’t end up splattered in the middle of the road.

  My bike wasn’t so lucky.

  I could’ve called a taxi or something like that. I was on the verge of doing so right before Mom brought out the waterworks and Emile offered up his car to save me from drowning in guilt. I’m glad he did. It suited my plan perfectly.

  I don’t mind riding with Emile because, the second we drive out of the rehab center’s parking lot, I hijack the car.

  “Take me home,” I tell him.

  “What do you think I’m doing?”

  I point at the windshield. “Not Mom and Dad’s, Emile. See this light? Make a left. I want you to take me home.”

  “Zack, I don’t think—”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I give him a side-eye. Desperate times call for desperate measures. “Remember when you were sixteen and I caught you with the girl next door in Mom and Dad’s hot tub? Maybe Mom would like to hear about that, prove I’ve still got my long term memory.”

  The look my little brother gives me is a mix between “you wouldn’t” and “fuck you”, with a dash of an impressed nod thrown in for extra measure. He doesn’t say anything, though when he approaches the light, he takes the left.

  Emile doesn’t need my directions. He takes each turn as we get to it. A giddy buzz is running through my veins, a cocktail of adrenaline and anticipation as I realize that, after all this time, I’m going to see Dani again.

  Our conversation is light and easy. We’re bullshitting back and forth, the way we used to. Emile doesn’t bring up the hot tub incident aga
in and neither do I. To be honest, I don’t think I would’ve told Mom anyway.

  A jolt of familiarity hits me as Emile pulls up in front of the apartment building. I want to jump out and run for it. Only the click-click-click of the hazards and the clearing of Emile’s throat keep me from escaping the car.

  “Hey, Zack, um, you do remember me telling you that you… uh… you don’t live here anymore, don’t you?”

  No wonder he thinks I’m nuts. That first afternoon, he made sure that I understood that my parents moved me out of the apartment when it became clear that I wouldn’t be coming out of the coma any time soon.

  Why else would I want to come here if it wasn’t my home any longer?

  Because I left my fucking heart behind with Dani.

  I clap him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about that. And, look, I’ll explain this all to you some other time. Just… just do me this one favor tonight. Okay? If everything goes to plan, you’ll understand tomorrow.”

  He shakes his head. “Mom is gonna have my ass for this. You know that, right?”

  I do. “You’re the best. I really missed you the most when I was in that coma. For two years.”

  “You know, playing the coma card is gonna get old, bro.”

  “But not yet?”

  Emile sighs. “Nah. Not yet.” And then he smirks, almost as if he has an idea of what’s on my mind.

  Or maybe he’s still remembering his dip in our parent’s hot tub.

  “I’m gonna be fine,” I promise. Opening the car door, I slip out before my brother changes his mind.

  “Well, if you’re not, I’ve got bail money stashed away if you need it.”

  With a laugh, I slap the roof of his car. “Don’t wait up for me,” I say cheerfully as I start toward the front of the building.

  Emile gives me a goodbye salute by honking his horn. I don’t even look behind me. My eye is on the prize. I saw Dani’s car parked up front when he dropped me off. She’s in her apartment.

  I have to see her.

  I don’t want to just walk inside and take the elevator or the stairs to her floor. Not only does that not seem romantic at all, but I don’t want to take the chance that she gets one look at me, alive and in the flesh, and starts screaming her head off.