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

from her and I flew, landing on the sofa. She stood and glared at me. I looked at her dumfounded.
    “Goddamn it, Jason! Is this why you got me drunk? You thought if you got me drunk enough I would screw you?” Her hands clenched into fists.
    “’M sorry,” I mumbled. “It wasn’t like that… I felt a pull…”
    “It wasn’t me. You know better, you… you… horny jackass!” she hissed. She crossed her arms, sat down, bounced, and almost fell off the sofa. She avoided looking at me.
    I was glad she was drunk.
    “Sorry,” I repea ted. “Please don’t be mad at me. I know I’m a dick.”
    She glared at me. “You better start thinkin’ with the right head… you… ass head!” she barked.
    I started laughing uncontrollably. “Ass head?” I echoed.
    Ash tightened her lips and fought not to laugh. She refused to look at me. She was getting pissed at my mocking her.
    “Well, that’s what you are!” she yelled. She pursed her lips and sat back with her arms still crossed, trying to look mad.
    “Okay, okay.” I tried to catch my breath. “I’m an ass head. I won’t do it again.”
    She glared at me. “I hate you.”
    “No you don’t, you’ll sti ll love me in the mornin’. Hey… you can’t blame a guy for trying.”
    Her mouth dropped open. “You… you…”
    “No, no, really, I’m joking. I just wanted to see what you took from Jack about the phone call.” This was true, bu t I wasn’t completely sorry I’d kissed her.
    “You could have asked me,” she fumed.
    “You’re only truly honest when you’re drunk, Ash. Besides, it’s been awhile since I got fucked up with someone other than Josh. Let’s watch a movie.”
    Her face lit up. “Som’tin’ with zombies.” She hiccupped.
    I laughed at her. “You can make zombies, and you want to watch a movie about them?”
    She stumbled toward the DVD player.
    I don’t remember much more after Zombieland started. I woke up freezing and my head felt like it was going to split open. My stomach rolled and I took a deep breath. Something smelled good. Slowly I opened my eyes; the light from the TV was too much as the menu from the DVD replayed. I closed my eyes. God, it was fucking cold. I shivered, wondering if I had a fever.
    I opened my eyes again and found the reason I was cold. I was spooning Ash on her sofa. What did this mean? I moved my head. Pain shot through my brain and down my neck. Did we have sex? Did I get bitten? Was that the rea son for the pain in my head? Was I turning into a hybrid?
    I felt my chest. I still had clothes on. We hadn’t done anything. The pain must be a hangover. Damn it.
    I felt around on the back of the sofa and found a throw. I pulled it over Ash and tucked it between us. I wrapped my arm around Ash and pulled her tight against me. I laid my arm across the dip in her waist. It felt like that space was meant for it. I buried my face in her snow-white hair and inhaled. Though I felt like barfing, she smelled good.
    There was a frantic conversation. Pain threatened to burst my brain. I listened to the house and heard nothing. I laid my forehead against the back of Ash’s head. The cold felt good.
    Hazy pictures formed in my mind. The new images didn’t help the hangover. I recognized Verloren’s face; I was seeing Ashley’s dream.
    Ash cradled Verloren just as she had the night he died. She placed her hand over the gun wound on his head, trying to will it to heal. She cried in frustration, and I felt her agony. She could never relinquish this power. No matter how hard she tried, her hands would only deal death. Verloren was gone forever.
    The pain in my mind was too much. I winced and pulled my head from hers, then fell back to sleep with my face in her hair.
    I dreamed that I was a teenager mowing the lawn of the house I grew up in. I was pushing the mower toward the sidewalk when Oz walked past, watching me.
    She looked different. She wore a tight-fitting black dress accentuating her curves. Stiletto