Phantom (Endlessly Book 3) by C.V. Hunt

Verloren’s sweatshirt hood and rushed from the kitchen. I needed a cigarette. I sat down at the table and looked at the bar. I knew what I was doing tonight.
    Josh walked into the kitchen and headed straight to the fridge.
    “Isn’t that some shit,” Josh said. “The man-hater has a man.”
    He grabbed a tray of ice from the freezer. He must have sensed the tension, because his smartass demeanor wavered. He opened a cupboard door, grabbed a large plastic bag, and made a homemade ice pack.
    Could Josh tell me more about Oz? Did I really want to know?
    “Yeah,” I forced a chuckle. “Talk about a one-eighty.”
    “What about you?” he asked, fishing a clean towel from a drawer.
    Feelings weren’t what Josh and I usually discussed. He was probably curious as to whether or not he was going to lose his video game partner.
    “I don’t know,” I shrugged.
    He wrapped the bagged ice in a towel. “You gonna look for her?”
    “I don’t know anything about her.”
    He leaned on the counter. “Oz is really cool. She doesn’t give a shit about all the girly garbage.”
    “Like a Tom Boy?”
    “No, not really. I mean… you didn’t have to watch your mouth around her. She liked to hang around us guys and listen to us talk shit. She was always laughing; everything was a joke to her.”
    I asked: “Did you ever… you know, hook up with her?”
    Josh shook his head. “No. Oz was one of the guys.”
    Lex poked her head into the kitchen. “Josh, we need that ice. Hania’s not a miracle worker.”
    He shook his head and grabbed his homemade ice pack. “She’s cool, Jason. You’d like her.” He walked into the game room.
    I went to the bar and made my selections.
     

     
     
     
    9 CONSTANT REMINDER
     
    I knocked on Ash’s apartment door. She made me wait, then opened the door and scowled at me. I shoved a bottle of vodka at her while I balanced a two-liter of Mountain Dew and a bottle of Captain Morgan in the other arm.
    “Let’s get fucked up,” I said.
    She took the vodka and let me in. Her apartment smelled like pumpkin pie. I noticed the candle burning on the kitchen counter as she got glasses from the cupboard. Her apartment was colorful compared to mine. She had a red and beige living area compared to my black and white. I noted that I could no longer smell Verloren. His scent had lingered here long after his death. Now all I could smell was pie.
    “Why do you girls like smelly things?” I asked, as I sat on the sofa.
    She sounded sad. “What do you mean… smelly?”
    “I don’t know. Smelly lotions, soaps, body sprays, candles, incense… you know, that sort of shit.”
    Laughing weakly, she handed me a glass, and sat down beside me. I wondered if Oz cared about all that stuff.
    “Is it a crime to smell good?” she asked.
    “No, but you don’t see guys doing that sort of shit.”
    She unscrewed the cap from the vodka and started to tip it toward the glass. She hesitated with the bottle hanging over the glass, then shrugged, skipped the glass, and brought the bottle straight to her mouth. Once she’d drank, she sat back and balanced the bottle on her knee. “I think I read somewhere that smell is the strongest sense connected to memory. I do remember the pumpkin pie part though.” She took another drink.
    I mixed a strong rum-and-soda. “What about pumpkin pie?” I asked.
    “There was a survey to figure out what smells attracted men. Pumpkin pie was number one.” She made a face as she swallowed the third drink.
    I drank half of my glass then looked at her. “So you do want me.” I laughed at her scowl.
    “Whatever,” she said.
    “That’s a polite way of telling me to fuck off.”
    “Then fuck off,” she said blandly, as she looked at my glass. “Since when do you drink that?”
    I set down my empty glass and thought about the girl. This wasn’t what I came here to talk about.
    “I don’t know. Something different.” I shrugged.
    Liar. It’s what she drinks, she