Till Death Do Us Part {Completed}

Chapter Fourteen - Drop-Dead Gorgeous

~Chapter Fourteen - Drop-Dead Gorgeous~

Around me, time seemed to slow down to an almost complete standstill, and the world seemed to melt away. I didn’t care about where we were, or what we were doing. All I could feel were his lips on mine.

            His lips were soft as feathers, and my hands reached up to tangle into his fair locks and bring him closer, drinking in the feel of him and the way he managed to make my head spin dizzyingly.

            As his head tilted to the side and he deepened the kiss, I felt like a million different senses had collided. I’d never felt something so fantastic and amazing and intoxicating. I knew that ghosts didn’t taste like anything, but I could almost imagine him tasting like something both sweet and salty, like chocolate and peanuts. Though his kisses were soft and sweet, there was a feverish urgency and indescribable passion within them that made the kiss that much more amazing.

            It was approximately 3.147 seconds later I realized what the hell I was doing.

            I was kissing a ghost.

            That wasn’t what shocked me the most, though. It wasn’t the first time I’d had a hot make-out session with a ghost. Two years ago, I’d kissed another ghost named Ian. He was a hot twenty-year-old college student, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t kissed him because he was drop-dead gorgeous. Because, by God, he was hot. Like, New York pavement in July hot. Hot enough to cook an English breakfast. That kind of hot. That had, of course, been interrupted by my stupid brother, Ryan, and had completely ruined the moment.

            So, kissing a ghost wasn’t shocking.

            It was the fact that I was kissing the ghost of a guy I was secretly in love with.

            A million thoughts crashed into me in rapid succession. Finn McDermott. I was kissing Finn McDermott! The ghost of the hottest quarterback I’d ever known, who’d been dead for nine months. And the guy I’d somehow fallen in love with. Don’t ask me how it happened, because I don’t know. But somehow I had, and, strange enough, I didn’t want to stop liking him.

            The second thought was that I couldn’t be kissing him. Because, if I was kissing him, it meant that he felt the same way, and that my feelings were a lot stronger for him than I’d ever imagined. And I couldn’t like him. Because soon enough the thing tying him to this earth with be snapped, and he’d be taken away from me, and I didn’t know if I’d be able to stand the heartbreak of him leaving me if something—say, like this—developed between us. I couldn’t handle it.

            I knew I should’ve pushed away from him and told him we couldn’t do this. I mean, at first he’d be angry, but maybe if he understood my reasoning, we could establish some ground rules and develop a more… friendly relationship. It would make it that much easier when his time came to leave.

            But, honestly, his kisses were so catastrophically enchanting and intoxicating and mind-blowing that I couldn’t bring myself to stop. Some might call this disgusting—I was kissing a dead guy (Which some people considered as necrophilia, or some disturbing thing like that)—but he felt just as real to me as, say, Lucas did. To me, he was still physical, and he still had a body. And, when a guy can kiss as good as this, you learn not to care about the tiny details, like whether or not he’s actually living and breathing. Wow, I sound like a creep.

            I knew I should push him away, but he felt so real and amazing, and, let’s face it, the dude hadn’t kissed a girl in nine months. I think he deserved this. I owed him this. The selfless way of thinking about it was that I wanted to comfort Finn and make him feel better.