The Hunter Beside Me

22: Contest

Owen

In bed with my arms around Becks was my new favorite place in the world. I didn't remember ever being a cuddler, but with Becks, it was different. I held us together with her back against my chest as her fingertips moved in gentle circles on my arm. It was such a slight touch, but I loved it and I'd hold her as long as she'd let me.

Leaning up, I kissed along her neck, and she hummed while pressing further into me. I slid my hand down her side while hers curved over my cheek, and she shifted to kiss me.

I could've happily stayed there forever, but it had already been hours. For most of the morning, the house had been quiet. Then the sounds of Emory and Bash's laughing and yelling drifted up the stairs, getting progressively louder.

Leaning back with a sigh, I said, "We need to see what's going on. There might be stuff to do."

"Nah. They're just playing a video game."

Shouts erupted below us, followed by name-calling. I raised an eyebrow. "That's a game?"

"Yep. Doesn't it sound like fun?"

"Nope. Definitely not compared to this."

Emory's voice cut through the air. "Wooooo! Gotcha, bitch!"

Bash's laughter made Becks smile. "Emory must be doing his victory dance."

My chest tightened at the sight of her happiness, and I hugged her closer. "I wish I'd found you sooner," I whispered against her ear, making her shiver.

"I would've thought Bash was crazy if you tried to tell me you were in there with him, and this definitely wouldn't have happened." She waved her finger between us.

"I meant before all of this."

"I wasn't alive yet, old man." She fluttered her eyelashes at me.

"Old man? That's not what you said a minute ago."

I rolled over, turning her and setting her on top of me. She squeaked with surprise and sat up with her hands on my stomach. "I take it back." With her head tilted, she asked, "How old are you, really?"

"A little over a week." I grinned.

She sighed. "No, not this body, you."

"I guess I'm seventy-two." Her face scrunched up, and I chuckled. "What?"

"How old were you... before you... haunted your house?"

"You mean, when I died?"

"Yeah, but that sounds terrible."

"Sure, haunting sounds better than died."

She smacked my arm. "Tell me."

"I was twenty-two."

Shaking her head, she leaned forward and rested her chin on her folded arms with our faces inches apart. Her face fell, and I hated it. I didn't want her to be sad. I ran my fingers through her hair the way she loved and stared into her dark eyes as she seemed to mull things over.

After a minute, she relaxed. "Then I guess that means I'm older. I'm twenty-four."

"Mmm, an older chick. That's kinda hot." I winked, and she shook her head.

"You have the greenest eyes," she whispered. "Were they always like this?"

Shrugging, I said, "I think so."

She smoothed her thumb over my cheekbone. "They're beautiful."

"You're beautiful."

Leaning forward, she brushed her lips over mine, and everything else was forgotten. It was another hour before we went downstairs to see what everyone was doing and find food.