Sixteen
A date. An actual date.
Laila couldn’t quite believe she’d said yes. So it was only coffee, but that still counted as a date. The butterflies that had sprung into action in her stomach when Avery had asked her out were still fluttering furiously as she walked home from her job at the library.
She wasn’t entirely surprised when he did ask. He’d been coming into the library every day for the past two weeks, always managing to come up with a question to ask her and always going to her to check out his books, claiming ignorance of how the automatic check-in/out machines worked. And she’d seen him watching her. She was fairly sure he was only coming to the library now to see her, judging by his completely random selection of books and the fact that, unless he was the world’s fastest speed reader, he was bringing them back far too quickly. But she didn’t mind. She had found herself looking forward to his daily visits. And today, he had finally asked her out which had brought on the severe butterfly attack.
She was ridiculously nervous. She hadn’t been on a date since Gary and after she’d left him she had wondered if she would ever want to go on a date again. For Laila, this was a huge step. But maybe it would help. Avery seemed like such a nice person, someone with whom she felt as if she could ease herself slowly back into trusting a man. She didn’t want what had happened to her to ruin her life. She didn’t want Gary to have that victory. She wanted to be normal again, carefree, happy. Not afraid. Avery seemed like he would let her go at her own pace, be patient with her. She needed that.
Also, he was hot. That definitely helped.
When she reached her flat she went straight to the wardrobe to look at her clothes. Her mind instantly went blank. She didn’t have a clue what to wear. Was she really that out of practice? It had only been a year and a half since she’d had a first date. She picked up her phone and dialled.
“’Sup?”
Laila smiled at her sister’s usual phone greeting. “I have a date.”
There was a moment’s silence on the other end of the line. “Who with?” Kelly demanded.
Laila rolled her eyes. She’d been afraid of her sister’s reaction. Kelly had a tendency to be overprotective.
“A guy I met at the library. He’s been coming in for a couple of weeks.”
“So you don’t know anything about him?”
“No, I’ve only just met him. Isn’t that what dates are for? To get to know people?”
“I know, but... are you sure?”
“Kelly, you were always the one who said I needed to move on from Gary. This is me moving on. Be happy for me.”
She heard her sister sigh. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just, I worry about you.”
“I know you do, and I wish you wouldn’t so much.”
“Well, what’s his name?”
“Avery.”
There was a pause. “Are you serious?”
Laila burst into laughter. “Of course I’m serious! I know, it’s unusual...”
“It’s weird.”
“...but I kind of like it.”
Kelly snorted. “Where are you going?”
“Just for coffee at a local place. Very public, lots of people around.”
“Okay. Well, tell me about him. What’s he like?”
“Well, he’s tall, dark hair, I’d say late twenties. Very polite and nice. Sweet really.”
“Hot?”
Laila smiled. “Very hot.”
Kelly laughed. “Of course he is. You always attract the hot ones.”
“So do you,” she replied, giggling.
“True. What are you going to wear?”
“That,” she said, switching her full attention to the clothes hanging on the rail in front of her, “is my problem.”
*
Denny watched in dismay from his place sitting on the bed as Laila searched through her wardrobe and discussed outfit selections with Kelly for her date.
Her date. With another man.
He always knew that one day this would happen. Laila was beautiful and sexy and funny and warm and all the other things that had made him fall in love with her. It stood to reason another man would see that in her too. But this was too soon. He wasn’t anywhere near ready to let her go. He didn’t want her to be a hermit for the rest of her life, just until he was no longer around, whenever that would be.
“Okay, so the blue dress?... yes, with the denim jacket... Okay, thanks Kel, I’ll call you when I get home.”
She hung up and started to unbutton the blouse she’d worn to work. Denny turned away so he wouldn’t see her and looked out the window.
Maybe it would go badly. Maybe this creep who hung around in libraries just so he could pick up beautiful, wonderful, vulnerable women wouldn’t like her. No, that wasn’t going to happen. This was Laila, of course he’d like her. But maybe she wouldn’t like him.
Denny closed his eyes. Please, he thought, please don’t like him.
When he opened his eyes again, she was walking into his line of sight as she opened her jewellery box and took out a necklace with a blue pendant attached.
“Oh no,” Denny said, standing up. “Hell no.” He walked across the room to her. “You can’t wear that, it is way too short,” he said in exasperation. “He will get totally the wrong idea.”
He looked down at her perfectly shaped long legs, far too much of which were visible below the hemline of her blue dress, the one with the little flowers on that he loved her in but was completely inappropriate for a first date in a coffee shop with a man she hardly knew and would find boring and dull anyway. His distress deepened as she removed her worn short denim jacket from the wardrobe and put it on over the dress, rolling the sleeves up to just below her elbows. She looked too cute for words. Much too cute for any other man to see.
“Wouldn’t you prefer your baggy jeans and that huge beige jumper that goes almost down to your knees?” he pleaded desperately. “You know, the one you only wear around the flat? I’m sure you wouldn’t be too warm.”
In truth, he even loved her in that, but it was as sexy and revealing as a hessian sack.
She looked at herself in the mirror and nodded. “Not too shabby,” she said.
Denny ran his hand through his hair. “Not too shabby?!”
She looked gorgeous. It was a disaster.
He lingered as she freshened her make-up, then followed her through to the living room, watching her grab her handbag and then walk to the door where she stopped. He walked over to her.
Normally, he would have been willing her to have the courage to overcome her fear, but this time he couldn’t.
“Please don’t go,” he whispered. He raised his hand to her face, brushing his incorporeal fingers against her cheek. “Don’t go on the date. Stay with me.”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then opened the door and walked out. Denny closed his eyes and slumped against the wall.
After a minute or so he straightened and walked back into the bedroom and out onto the balcony, waiting for Laila to emerge from the building and then watching her walk purposefully along the street. He longed for her to stop, turn around and come back, but she didn’t. He leaned his head against the barrier, his hope fading with each step she took away from him. Eventually she turned a corner out of sight and he closed his eyes, despair welling up inside him.
“Denny!”
He opened his eyes at the sound of his name being called and saw Oliver waving up at him. He waved back, thankful for the distraction.
“I’m coming down,” he called and headed back inside.
“Dude, you look like someone’s just dug up your grave,” Oliver said when Denny reached the lobby.
“Laila has a date,” he said, slumping down onto the floor and leaning against the barrier.
“Oh man, that’s harsh.” Oliver sat down on the steps outside the door. “Who with?”
“Some creepy guy she met at the library.”
“Have you se
en him? Is he that bad?” Oliver looked worried. “Maybe I should go and keep an eye on her.”
“I haven’t seen him, but he has to be creepy. He sounds creepy.”
Denny suspected that might just be wishful thinking on his part, but he needed to hold onto some kind of hope.
Oliver was looking at him sadly. “You knew this day would come. She doesn’t even know you exist. She’s a sizzling hot young woman. It was going to happen sooner or later.”
“I know, but... I just wanted it to be later. Much later. After I’ve gone later.” He ran his hand through his hair, looking at Oliver. “I love her.”
“I know, man. Tell you what, if it’s in my zone, I’ll hang around there and make sure she’s okay.”
“I don’t know where she’s gone. She mentioned coffee. She went down Oak Street.”
Oliver leaped to his feet. “I’ll check all the coffee shops down there then. If she was walking she can’t have gone far.” He smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll find her.”
Denny smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Ol. You’re a good friend.”
“I am, aren’t I?” he replied with a grin, bounding down the steps and disappearing up the street.
***
Denny paced back and forth across the lobby. It wasn’t a very big lobby, so he couldn’t go very far, but he paced nevertheless, ranging between the mail boxes on one side and the wall on the other. Every so often he would stop and peer through the glass door, then resume his uptight pacing.
It was getting dark outside. Where was she? What if Oliver hadn’t been able to find her? Something could have happened to her and he wouldn’t know. How long could a cup of coffee take? That’s all it was, one damn cup of coffee. Even if she’d drunk it really slowly, she should have been back long ago.
He was about to go back up to the flat to see if he could see her from the balcony when he suddenly saw her crossing the road outside, Oliver at her side. Seeing Denny, he ran ahead of her.
“They were at Costa,” he said. “The guy behaved himself. She seemed to be enjoying herself.” Seeing the look on Denny’s face, he added rapidly, “But I’m sure he’s a total dick, which Laila will no doubt have noticed.”
Denny sighed, watching her approach the door. “Thanks, Oliver. You going to the park now?”
“Actually, I thought I might head back to the coffee shop. There was the cutest barista there. I’m going to see if I can walk her home after her shift.” He stepped aside to let Laila past. “Bye, Laila.”
“See you tomorrow, Ol,” Denny said, turning to follow her to the lift.
“Where have you been?” he demanded as soon as they got inside. “I was worried sick about you.” He looked down at her legs as they rode up to the third floor. “That dress is too damn short,” he said, “that creep had better not have been looking at...”
He stopped at the sound of humming and looked up at her face. She was smiling. And humming. A hole opened in the pit of his stomach. It stayed there as they exited the lift and went into the flat. She looked so happy, as happy as he ever remembered seeing her. It was the most beautiful and the most awful thing he’d ever seen. He wanted her to be happy, but not like this, not with another man.
“Stop it, Denny,” he berated himself. “She’s not yours and she won’t ever be.”
He stopped as tears welled up into his eyes.
“Yeah, I’m back.”
Laila had retrieved her phone from her bag and was speaking into it as she walked into the bedroom. She smiled.
“It was nice... he was the perfect gentleman... no, he didn’t try anything. We were in the middle of a crowded coffee shop, what could he have done?... Well, he didn’t...”
She shrugged her jacket off, switching hands on the phone as she did so, and laughed.
“Yes, he paid... I know... he asked me if I wanted to have dinner with him tomorrow... I said yes. I like him... I will be careful... I’m going to take a shower now. I’ll speak to you tomorrow... ‘Bye Kel.”
Denny was staring at her in dismay. She was going to see the creep again. Anger clutched at him.
“It’s not fair!” he shouted, “I should be alive.” He looked at Laila and his voice quietened. “And she should be mine.”
She began to undress and Denny turned away quickly, feeling like he was going to explode with frustration. Why should he have to suffer like this? He was the victim, he was the one who had been murdered. Why couldn’t he have anything for himself?
He put his hands over his face and drew in a shuddering breath. He should leave. He should just walk out now. But he didn’t.
Heart pounding, he turned around slowly. Laila’s dress was lying on the chair and she was stepping out of her shoes as she reached back to unhook her bra.
It wasn’t her fault. He should leave her alone and give her her privacy. But it wasn’t his fault either, and he wanted this so much. He wanted some part of her, just one small part. No-one else knew her like he did. No-one else’s heart had been broken over and over as they watched her cry herself to sleep at night. No-one else was in love with her the way he was.
It was harmless. She would never know.
He continued to watch as she removed her bra and then her panties. He caught his breath, swallowing hard. She was incredible, beautiful. The sexiest woman he had ever seen, every part of her body, her curves, her skin, the way she moved, everything was perfection. He felt himself straining at his jeans. She walked into the bathroom. After a moment’s hesitation, he followed.
Stepping into the shower, she turned on the water and tilted her head back, letting the spray flow through her hair and down over her body. Denny leaned back against the wall and watched her, unzipping his fly. He wanted her so badly he was physically in pain. Freeing himself from the restraints of his jeans and underpants, he ran his fingers along his erection as he watched her pour shower cream into her hands and begin to cover herself in lather. He groaned, grasping himself and running his hand back and forth along his rock hard shaft.
“Laila,” he whispered, “Laila.”
Her hands moved over her wet soapy body, around her breasts and down to her stomach, between her thighs. He leaned his head back against the tiled wall, increasing the rhythm of his stroking, harder and faster, his eyes fixed on her, until the blood was rushing in his ears and he was crying out, working himself into release, erupting over the bathroom floor.
He slumped back against the wall, looking down as his semen shimmered and vanished on the tiled floor. The water switched off and he looked up to see Laila step from the shower, wrap a towel around herself in front of him then walk back into the bedroom.
Denny closed his eyes, shaking his head. Tears spilled down his cheeks. He pulled his underwear and jeans back up angrily as guilt tore at him. How could he have done that to her? Even if there had been a way for them to be together, he didn’t deserve her.
Walking back into the bedroom, he could barely look in her direction.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
He walked out and left the flat.
Seventeen
Denny didn’t return to the flat for three days. Fortunately, Mr and Mrs Jameson in flat three on the ground floor were currently on speaking terms so were sleeping in the same room and he could use their spare bedroom.
He felt as if he’d betrayed the woman he loved. For over four years he had kept to his code of ethics. It had been one of the ways he’d held onto his humanity, when it often felt to him like he was barely human anymore. He’d treated all the people who lived in his building with respect and consideration, giving them their privacy whenever he felt they needed it. And then he’d done what he did, to the most important person in the world to him.
His actions hadn’t been born of violence or anger, but he still felt deeply ashamed. He felt like his feelings for Laila were pushing him over the edge. What if he’d been alive still and they had met and she’d rejected him? Would he have become some kind of crazed stalker, co
nvinced that they were meant to be together? That thought scared him. Was he finally going insane? Maybe this was why ghosts didn’t get to stay on earth very long. Maybe they all eventually went crazy and had to go. Maybe he was heading in that direction too.
Eventually, however, being away from her became too much for him to bear.
When he returned to the flat it was evening and Laila was sitting on the sofa, watching the TV. Her knees were bent, her feet pulled up onto the seat next to her, and she was wearing her huge jumper which she had pulled down over her legs. Denny stood and stared at her for a while, trying to identify any crazed, psychotic urges he might be having.
When all he could feel for her was love, he decided to trust himself around her for the time being. He knew he wasn’t ready to let her go.
He walked to the sofa and sat down next to her, looking at the screen. Tremors was on, a favourite they both shared. He settled down to watch, glancing at Laila beside him and then back at the screen.
He smiled. It was good to be home.
Eighteen
It hadn’t been a fun couple of weeks and it was about to get a lot worse.
Denny lay on his back on the sofa staring at the ceiling, his legs dangling over the arm, and waited for Laila to get dressed.
Every time she left for a date with Avery, he felt like his heart broke a little bit more. He’d tried ignoring it. He’d tried not being around when she left, although he always waited for her to return, to make sure she was safe. He’d tried screaming and shouting and throwing non-breakable things when she was gone, cushions mostly as they were quiet. None of it worked, none of it made him feel any better.
All he could do was spend all the time she was in the flat with her.
At home, she was his. The way she relaxed and had fun by herself, dancing and singing to the radio as she cooked and cleaned. The way they laughed at comedies when watching TV together. The way she fell asleep curled up on the sofa, when reading late, and he would catch her book before it fell from her grasp and replace her bookmark and lay it gently on her lap. It always made him smile, how she would wake again and frown, trying to work out how she could have put the bookmark in while asleep. Then she would smile and shrug and go to bed. It was his connection with her, something she could see. One tiny way he could demonstrate how much he cared for her. It wasn’t much, but it was his.
Every Touch Page 9
