3. Ben

Chapter 3

Ben

The guy screams and thrashes as I carry him over my shoulder through the tunnel in the wall. I can catch the occasional nonsense about exorcisms and holy water and garlic baguettes, but trying to speak to him only aggravates him further, so I give up on that.

I’ve encountered all kinds of reactions today. I agreed to do my friend a favor by covering for him at the fair since I didn’t really have any plans for Halloween. It’s an easy job , he said. You just scare a few kids and go home , he said.

Oh yeah, Terrance? Tell that to the hysterical guy I’m carrying like a bag of potatoes. He’s currently cursing my entire bloodline, threatening he’ll return as a ghost and haunt the shit out of even my horses.

I snort despite the ridiculousness of the situation. But it’s kind of funny. I just wish he’d shut up for a moment so I can talk to him and apologize. He’s convinced I’m a real ghost or a serial killer posing as staff, never mind the fact that there are cameras everywhere and he knew he was walking into a silly haunted house attraction.

And seriously, if he’s so phobic, why even enter? Surely, he’d know how bad of an idea something like that is.

Finally, I emerge into the control room. We chill here when we have downtime. The camera feed is playing on the four screens, and by the looks of things, the two friends of my screaming damsel-in-distress are having the time of their life.

Of course I had to get roped with the crazy one. But then again, it’s also amusing. I mean, who in their right mind threatens to beat up a ghost?

“I’m gonna put you down now, okay? And I’ll turn on the lights,” I try, but get only more screaming and clawing and snarling in response.

I stifle a chuckle. Fuck, I’m so glad he’s tiny. I don’t think I’d have been able to manhandle someone my size.

Shutting the door, I let go of the guy. He crumples to the floor, aiming a nasty scowl at me as he skitters away until his back hits the side of the desk. He looks spooked and like he’s about to pass out from shock.

I bite on my lip. At least he stopped screaming. Shit. My ‘ghost whispering in your ear’ act was too much.

“You okay?” I ask and turn on the lights.

He squeezes his eyes, but then snaps them open almost immediately after. They are like laser sights; trained on me and following me as I plop in the squeaky office chair across from him.

I get no reply and so I simply stare him down as he does the same. He’s breathing hard. His black hair curtains his lean face, where a delicate nose, big blue eyes and exquisitely sculpted brow ridge and lips grace him with doll-like elegance. He’s wearing what looks to be a very well-made DIY cosplay of the tactical armor from the third Ravaged Stars novel, just like I thought. It complements his pretty features with its masculine and minimalistic design, giving him an edge that I find rather intriguing.

It’s also why I approached him. I swung by the fortune teller before my shift started, and out of curiosity let the old woman read my future. She said I’d cross paths with a black ghost from the past, but I didn’t believe her. Picture me surprised when I saw this guy enter the haunted house. I just had to have a better look at him, though I’m yet to figure out the ‘from the past’ part.

“I’m Ben. I work here. Sorry for scaring you like this. I didn’t think it would go this badly,” I say calmly.

His livid eyes scan the room, bouncing from me to the door, then to the shelves overflowing with props, and finally to the monitors. He cocks his head, scrunching his nose as his brain seems to work overtime to catch up. It’s kind of cute. Or maybe it’s that he is cute.

“Oh,” he breathes out, his entire body sagging. He blinks at me slowly, frowns, and then flushes, burying his face in his elegant hands. “Oh god, this is embarrassing.”

I grin. I suppose it is for him. “I won’t hold it against you, I promise. And I do mean it when I say I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to give you a heart attack.”

He gives me an unconvinced once-over, peeking from between his lean fingers. “I thought that was the point of jump scares.”

Snatching the bottle of water I keep on the shelf, I toss it to him. He scrambles to catch it, nodding in thanks when he does. I’m transfixed on his neck moving as he takes a big sip.

“Well yes, I guess. Sort of. It’s complicated,” I acknowledge, almost failing to catch the bottle when he throws it back to me.

He snorts, shaking his head. “You’re weird.”

I raise an eyebrow at him, feeling a smile tug at the corners of my mouth. “I’m weird, Mr. ‘Shoo you evil asshole ghost’?”

He groans, visibly cringing. “I’ve had a bad day, okay? Please forget this ever happened. Or, you know, that I tried to punch a ghost.” He sighs, rubbing the sides of his face. The tinge of pink in his cheeks is still there.

I should do as he says. We are practically strangers and I don’t tend to spare brain cells on random people. But he’s kind of adorable. In a dorky ‘I must protect him from all bad and scary things’ kind of way? And he fit so well in my arms, even though he was technically trying to claw my eyes out.

But I can forgive that part. I can’t explain it, but there is just something so enticing about him. Just looking at him makes my heart beat faster and my fingertips tingle with the need to ruffle his mop of dark curls. Or trace his delicate jaw, stroke his rosy cheeks, part his full lips with my tongue…

I blink, a frisson of heat sending a thrill down my spine and right to my cock. I think I wouldn’t mind kissing him.

Not backing out of our stare contest, he huffs out and narrows his eyes. “What?”

The slight edge to his voice, coupled with the broody vibe he maintains without even trying pulls a chuckle out of me. His sky-blue eyes gain intensity of the aggressive type, but his attempt to intimidate me only makes me want to tease him more.

“What’s your name?” I toss when, really, I should be leading him out of the haunted house attraction.

But there are still ten minutes left before his friends’ time is up, so I might as well make the best of the situation, right? Besides, I’m curious about his day now.

He stands and pats himself down as if to get rid of invisible dust. Then he fumbles with one of the suit’s straps, his frown softening even if his gaze remains a little suspicious. “It’s Charlie.”

Is he nervous? And is it good nervous or bad nervous? “I’m Ben.” I push up from the old chair and hold out my hand.

I used to know someone named Charlie. He was cute like this guy and should be about the same age. Twenty-one? Twenty-two maybe. So, two years younger than me.

He pulls on the corner of his lip, amusement displacing some of the apprehension still lurking in his eyes. “I know. You told me already.”

His grip is firm, even if his hand is smaller than mine. It slots perfectly in mine as I close my fingers around it and soak up the pleasant smoothness of his skin. It’s so unlike the cuts and chaffs that working as an engineer comes with. But I love my job, so I don’t mind it.

Our handshake lasts what feels like hours, both of us as if entranced. There is just something so comfortable about the contact. It’s like how it feels when you go home after a long time away, though I can’t really explain why a stranger would cause a sensation like this.

If I’m being honest, I don’t think it really matters right now because sparks are dancing under my skin. Every moment is bliss. I rub the underside of his wrist gently, his quickened pulse reverberating through me as my own heart tries to drill a hole out of my chest.

Can Charlie feel how madly it’s beating? I seek out his gaze. His eyes are locked on our hands, dark and a little wondrous. He looks like he doesn’t know exactly what’s happening, like this is the first time he’s shaking a hand with someone and he’s hellbent on soaking up every sensation.

I step closer, a whiff of vanilla and mango making my head spin. His fingers tangle with mine. I suck in a breath, my dick jerking inside my cargo pants. He looks up at me, a spark of something irresistible flickering in his gorgeous blue depths.

I want to gobble him up.

He raises an eyebrow as if in challenge, a smirk teasing his kissable lips.

Can he tell?

My heart skips a beat as I lean down.

The door shoves open. We both let go, and I turn around so quickly I get whiplash.

“Oh my god! Charlie, are you okay? Where the hell did you go?!” a girl in a colorful dragon costume shrieks, crashing them into a hug. “You weren’t at the meeting spot! We thought you’d found another way out, but you weren’t outside either!”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, giving me a pointed look as he gently pushes her off him. Not a word about his freakout, got it . “I, uh, got lost?” He hooks a finger at me. “Had to call the staff over for help.”

The staff? Ouch . Not that he’s wrong.

“You got lost?”

“Yeah. It was dark and my phone died and…”

“He locked himself in one of the bedrooms by mistake. I had to swoop in and save him,” I jump in helpfully, earning myself a nod in thanks.

His friend gives me a long and somewhat calculating look. “Well, in that case, thanks. We’ll be out of your way now.”

I open my mouth to protest it’s not necessary, but she’s out of the room before the words even leave me. I stare at the dark corridor as her shoes clink against the hardwood and her voice drones on about fun and parties, feeling like the rug has been pulled from under my feet.

She barged in at the worst possible moment, interrupting what I am sure was going to be an amazing kiss even if I don’t really understand why I had such a strong urge to be close to Charlie. I just did. And then she just took him away before I’d even had the chance to ask him for his number.

Great. Just great. I meet the first guy in years who makes me feel like I’m riding a rollercoaster, and his meddling friend snatches him from my arms.

“You okay, buddy?” Lawrence rasps in his perpetually hoarse voice, slipping into the room and shucking off his zombie costume. “Just two more groups and we are off. You coming to the party with us?”

Sighing, I walk over to the window and watch another staff member lead Charlie and his two friends through the overgrown back garden. She hands them the silly certificates that they’ve successfully cleared the haunted house attraction and sends them on their way.

I guess I’m never seeing the cute dork again. It’s a shame, but that’s life for you.

“So?” Lawrence insists, leaning back in the creaky chair and crossing his big arms behind his head. “Yah or nah?”

I pull my phone out. We’ll be done by nine, which means I’ll be home by ten. There’s no way I can fall asleep, especially with the buzz of excitement that meeting Charlie invited. So I guess I’ll go.

Who knows, I might even meet someone who’ll help me forget the blue-eyed cutie I wish I hadn’t let go.