It had been a long time since I’d slept with the same person two nights in a row. It felt different the second round, without so much buildup and fanfare, and on a bed for a change. This time, I couldn’t help but try and peek behind the patchwork curtain of memories that lined up with his every touch. My skin may as well have been a map, every part his hands and mouth pinched and nipped already long charted. I found myself wondering whose skilled tongue I really felt, not to mention whose shape and size he slipped, which my mind must’ve judged to be a good fit. It made it harder, this time around, not to think of someone else I’d never really get to touch.
This time, once we’d finished, he got bolder. Rather than roll over, he stayed put, draped over me, like he knew well enough how quick I’d spring up to leave otherwise. I couldn’t help it. All the morning sunlight spilling in through the broken windows told me I ought to be dust already.
I finally thought to take a look at his room. I hadn’t even noticed most of his furniture was actually stacks of records, decades’ worth of music, thick enough to hold up an ancient Victrola and antique boombox and a relatively new flatscreen TV to go along with his smaller, less stable collections of cassettes, CDs and DVDs. I was admittedly impressed with his music collection, but it disappointed me to learn that he watched TV like the rest of us. Probably to keep up with modern slang.
My chest tightened as he stirred. He stood straight through the bed as he got up. His clothes came back, like he knew how to do it on purpose, complete with the tailcoat.
Evie’s coat. My heart knocked painfully in my chest. I nearly cursed out loud.
I’d forgotten about her crush. Rather, I’d ignored it, because I hadn’t cared enough. Otherwise, I might’ve had to think twice about my actions, and, of course, I couldn’t do that.
Alastair went to pick through one of the record stacks. “What do you want to play tonight?”
My body tensed, ready to flee.
“I’ve got to put together the setlist,” he said, as he thumbed through album after album. “But I’ll give you first pick. I know we’re pretty retro around here, but that’s why I’d love to hear something new.”
“I don’t remember signing a contract.”
One of the records fell straight through his hands. I cringed as the vinyl slipped out of its sleeve, clattering to the floor. He didn’t move to fetch it, taking his time turning to me, his mask in place.
I knew I should’ve left.
“What do you think of this home I’ve built?” he asked.
I curled myself up, like bringing my knees to my chest might shield me from his stare. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“You’re not about to leave again?”
“I don’t plan on it.”
He let his mask fall with a sigh, tilting his head down at me, his eyes filled with pity. I bristled, but didn’t move.
“Why do you keep forsaking this gift?” he asked.
I didn’t know how I could possibly explain to him. So I made something up. “It’s not as if I could ever measure up to the greats here.”
His pity gave way to laughter. It made my stomach drop.
“What greats?”
So that’s why I hadn’t been able to name any band members. I’d figured it had been my failing, not theirs.
“Have you seen anyone famous here?” he asked. “They’re all in hell, most likely. None of the band here were truly great in life. They didn’t get their shot until afterward.”
“So I still wouldn’t fit. I already took my shot.” I pointed him some finger guns, briefly, before letting them break apart in my palms, backfiring. “I missed.”
“I’m giving you a second chance.”
“I don’t want it.”
He stared at me, and kept staring. For once, he had nothing to say. At last, he made his way back through the bed, brushing his thumb over my chin. “Right when I thought we’d gotten somewhere.”
He didn’t have to let down his walls for me to feel the blow to his pride.
“What, just because I let you hit? You’re hot, and I hate myself anyway.”
“Are you telling me playing wouldn’t help you with that at all?”
I played dumb, going for the laugh. “How would it make you less hot?”
Not even a smile.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he said. “No earlier, don’t look for me in the daytime.”
“Why not?”
He let out a slight sigh under his breath, worse than any of his usual dramatic affectation. “You’re not my first foundling. You won’t be my last. You have no reason to think you’re so dear, out of all the generations of souls I’ve comforted.”
“You could just say you want to see other people.”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” he said. “Anyway, I know the torch you’re carrying isn’t for me.”
For once I had to watch the other person leave, literally disappearing, like I always wished I could.
* * *
While I lay in bed, waiting for my clothes, I wondered what to do about scaring off the wallflowers the night before. I considered not bringing it up. It even occurred to me that if I was careful, I wouldn’t necessarily have to see them, ever again. But if I was going to stay here from now on, I couldn’t avoid them for what might be literal eternity. Surely, they’d have to forgive me in a couple of years, or decades.
And I wouldn’t mention any of this to Evie.
Just as I began to debate whether most of the ghosts here would care if I walked around naked, and if I should care so much myself, somebody spirited right in. Turned out I didn’t care much, since I didn’t even move to try covering myself up. Not until I realized who’d come in.
Evie covered her blushing face, muffling a high-pitched noise like a hiccup, somewhere between a gasp and a sob. She hadn’t done her hair yet, wrapped up in her satin scarf like a turban.
“Shit,” I said.
Whatever happened to courtesy distance?
She turned to hide, rushing right out through the wall. I gathered the unnecessary sheets around me and moved to follow her.
At least she couldn’t concentrate enough to spirit away as she rushed down the hall. The back of her gown had ties to keep the slit closed, but without Alastair’s coat, she clutched the two sides shut anyway.
I nearly dropped the sheets as I reached out to try slowing her by the shoulder. She turned to me with no resistance, letting me see what I’d already felt from her touch, her face damp and darkened. I hadn’t thought she’d take it this hard. He fucked around with so many other people.
“My bad,” I said. Then I thought better of it. Maybe I could still salvage this. “I mean, about what I said last night. Back there, though, that wasn’t what it looked like—”
Her eyes went unexpectedly cold. “I’m not a fucking child,” she said. “I know whose room you were in—whose bed.”
My mouth dried up.
“So, you found something better to do,” she said. “Or should I say somebody?”
It had been stupid, thinking I could pull the wool over her eyes. I knew she never should’ve trusted me. That I’d let her down somehow.
“Don’t let me ruin your fun.” She spoke so softly, her tone mild, I nearly thought she meant it in earnest. “There’s no call for you to sit on the sidelines with me.”
She must’ve really liked him. So much, she wouldn’t even give anyone else a shot.
“No wonder you’re always missing out around here,” I said.
That sure as hell didn’t come out right.
She whipped her head around, though I could still see her hands wiping at her face.
Somehow, she managed to spirit off. I didn’t try to follow her. She couldn’t stand the sight of me, still naked, wrapped in his sheets.
It might not be the worst idea to avoid her for a while, after all.