Midnight Lips | Ghost

𝐂𝐇. 47

𝐕𝐀𝐋
༻❁༺

     My leg mirrored the nerves going through my body, moving up and down as the car continued with its steady pace. I watched the houses pass by and noticed there was no pedestrian outside, probably too scared to get out from their hiding spot after what began 24 hours ago. There was no evidence left of the explosion except for the intoxicating smell in the air, between ashes and burn.

The sun was setting somewhere behind me and the last beams of light did nothing to make our path a little clear for us. It'd been four hours since I saw the guys before they left, and even though I knew they were okay—Kate confirmed it after she spoke to Price—I still needed to see and hear from them so I could make sure she was right.

More importantly Simon, whose clothes I was wearing and clutching in my hand to pretend I wasn't losing my mind. His scent was surrounding me, still stuck in these too-big-for-me clothes. Rich and husky, just like him. Comforting me, just like him.

I hated that part of me. No matter how much I pretended not to care about something, I always ended up caring either way, losing my mind from the inside and out when I couldn't hold it in any longer. When I applied for this, I was supposed to suppress my emotions and not get them involved in my job, but in situations where I was as helpless as these said feelings, I couldn't stop from circling them around my finger until they flew out.

"Cold?" Max asked from beside me. I almost flinched, if it wasn't because I sensed him before he spoke. We were the only ones who stayed behind, the only ones in the car right now. He offered to stay with me and seemed not to mind being stuck with me while everyone else risked their lives, and I thanked that thing of him that was so calm and steady it eased my nerves a little.

I didn't know much about Max Morris, only that he was recruited by Price to join Task Force 141 and that he was British. His accent was thick and raspy, something similar to Simon's. But Simon's accent was sexier and thicker and huskier and deeper and warmer, a tone that embraced you and made you tingle in all the right places. Especially when he spoke directly at you, low and close, things that were only meant to be heard by you.

God, I miss him, and it's only been a few hours.

"It's hot in Las Almas," I told Max matter-of-factly instead.

"It could be hot, does not mean you have to be hot." He lifted his eyebrows and offered me a smile. A smile that I didn't take. We'd exchanged a total of twelve words since we met, and so far he didn't seem like a bad guy, I just didn't feel like talking to him right now.

"I can't control my body from how it feels under the weather," I muttered.

"Right." He pressed his lips together. From the corner of my eye, I caught the edges of his lips tipping upward as if he was holding back a smile. "What type of music do you usually listen to?"

"Anything that's not country music."

"Very well." The car filled with music I didn't pay much attention to and soon we were pulling up to the base.

I didn't wait for Max to park the car, as soon as the SUV stopped, I threw the passenger's door open and jumped out. A few brief steps and I buried myself in Manuel's waiting arms, breathing his scent in and not finding that familiar comfort I so desperately wanted. He was the only one waiting for us to arrive, and I appreciated that.