Ghostly Tours

Chapter Seven

Tears filled her eyes and she nodded. "Me too."

He drew closer. Coldness or fear didn't creep up her spine. Really, his ghost was pretty ordinary, except for those blue, blue eyes.

"I still keep changing into a ghost. In fact, it's becoming more and more frequent." He swept across the room, circling the ceiling in a frenzy. She gripped onto the comforter, afraid he'd explode or die. Could a ghost die? Cease to exist?

"Shane, stop it."

He wailed. The eerie sound pierced through the room. Kaylee would come to investigate any moment. What could she say? She clamped her palms over her ears and shook her head. "Shane," she mumbled, "Shane, stop it."

When she opened her eyes, he was inches from her face and she squealed. He burst out laughing. She tried to smack him but her hand went right through him. "What's so funny?"

"I'm scared," he said, his face serious again. "I want this to end."

Hot tears pricked her eyes. She was tired of crying.

"We need to get together. It's the only way," he said.

"The only way for what?" she bit out.

"For me to be free. That must be it. We are destined to be together. We're twin flames, soul mates, or whatever they call it. That's why I'm a ghost—because I'm refusing to be your lover. Yet, I keep getting pulled toward you, wherever you are. Do you know how many times I've come to visit your city? Almost every year, I arrange a trip here. I've been to Tuscany multiple times. My restless heart needs a home."

"Shane, please."

His form brushed past her. A shiver ran up her arm. She wanted to tell him to go away. She'd just begun to feel like she could start over and build a new life for herself. Finally, she'd found the reason for her restlessness. And now he wanted to trap her in a relationship because he needed her—needed her for his sanity, not because he loved her.

He wafted around the room. She watched him through narrowed eyes.

"I won't love you because I have to," she eventually said. "I can't do that, Shane, and you know it. It's not fair to either of us."

"But we've always loved each other."

"No. You don't know me. You know nothing about me. Just because you pamper me when I bathe or shower at night—with these gorgeous towels, and linen and drinks—doesn't mean you know me, the real me. I want to grow spiritually. I was looking forward to finding myself, the real me, because this empty hole all the time has stood in the way. I was obsessed with Tuscany my whole life. And it was all because of what happened there when I was Susan. But that obsession isn't the new me; it's not the Susanna me. It's the Susan past. I can't live in the past. I have a life to live. A new life brimming with possibilities. Yeah, sure, I probably won't have a job in the morning, but I honestly don't care. It wasn't the job for me anyway."

"Why won't you have a job?" he asked, as if he really cared.

"Because I left the tour. This was my first tour. I'm a junior. I push papers around a desk all day. And I thought this was a chance to prove myself—Ghostly Tours, I mean."

"Why did you leave?"

She clenched her fists. "Isn't that obvious?"

He turned to the window, his visage growing fuzzy. Was she losing him? Why did that make her feel so empty, so bereft? She'd just told him she needed to find herself.

"Let me help you. Come back on the tour. Finish Ghostly Tours. We'll do it together, the real Shane and you. We can get to know one another. Give us a chance. I'd never suffocate you; I know how that feels." He was fading.