A Gift of Ghosts
Page 28
***
The phone rang.
Akira eyed it suspiciously.
She’d had a dream last night. At least she thought it was a dream, but the details were fuzzy. Still the uncertainty was at least half of why she was awake at this ridiculous hour. Ridiculous for a Sunday morning, anyway: it was barely after eight, and she’d just stepped out of the shower.
The phone rang again.
It was really too early for anyone to call. And her friends—the ones who would call her on a Sunday morning, anyway—were all in California. They’d call at noon eastern time, not eight.
The phone rang a third time. If she didn’t catch it before it rang again, it would go into voice mail. Akira lunged across the bed and grabbed the receiver. Sprawled in her messy blankets, she looked at the caller ID. Local, but she didn’t recognize the number.
She pressed the button. “Hello?” She didn’t deliberately play with the sound of her voice, but she also didn’t try too hard to make it not sound husky with sleep. She had just gotten up after all.
“Waffles?”
It was a rush. Like the moment at the top of the roller coaster, right before the car tips over the edge of the hill. “You called me last night, didn’t you?”
“I did. You were asleep.”
“Mostly asleep,” Akira corrected Zane.
“Mm-hmm.” His voice was just as husky as hers. “You’re a tease when you’re sleepy.”
“It was late,” Akira defended herself, as she squeezed her eyes closed, trying to remember what she’d said. She could feel her cheeks turning pink, a flush half delight, half embarrassment.
He’d called.
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” Zane sounded resigned. “The family discussions went on for a while. Too long. And—I hate to say it—they’re crashing our breakfast, too.”
“Oh.” Akira knew her voice had flattened but she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
“Kayaking, after,” he said hastily. “And then swimming? And dinner? And then back to your place and you can keep the promises you were making last night?”
A reluctant smile curved Akira’s lips. She didn’t remember any promises. But she’d like to keep them anyway. And hell, an hour of conversation about ghosts? She could do that.