I wake up before Aiden. For a long time, I stay motionless and silent, stretched out on my side, looking at him.

What he said last night has settled into my heart, creating a warm glow that I don’t know what to do with, how to handle.

He’s asleep on his stomach, his face turned towards me, muscled arms folded beneath the pillow. His glossy chestnut hair is a mess, falling into his eyes. It’s a cold morning, but he makes his own heat, and it doesn’t seem to bother him that the blankets have slipped all the way down past the arch of his back.

The sunlight tumbles gently over him, spilling onto his eyelashes, his bronze skin, his peaceful, sleeping face.

My mind drifts to another morning, a long time ago, when I woke up in my bedroom at my parent’s house to a text from Kasey that I had to read three times to process.

Holy shit, Jamie, no confirmation yet but I’m hearing that Aiden Callahan fucking packed up and skipped town last night??

Thrown out of my drowsiness by this staggering news, I spent the next twenty minutes in a frenzy of texting Angie and Des and everyone else, before the truth was undeniable. Aiden was gone, and from the sound of it, he had no intention of ever coming back.

“Thank fucking god,” I said to Kasey, after we knew for sure. “You think he’s okay, though? Why would he do that?”

“Oh my god, Jamie, are you kidding me?” she’d laughed. “Who cares why? For you, this is basically a miracle.”

And yet. These days, when I picture a safe haven, I think of an attic apartment that always smells faintly of vetiver. A familiar body turning over sleepily in a quiet room. A window perpetually cracked open. A ridiculously big sweater, available for me to steal. Oversized hands in cotton archival gloves.

A set of curious, thoughtful, observant blue eyes.

Somewhere along the way, the idea that Aiden might be only a fleeting, temporary presence in my life has stopped sounding like a miracle. It sounds like the polar opposite of a miracle, in fact. It would be a disaster of apocalyptic proportions. Fucking unbearable, the worst thing I can imagine. I miss him even when he’s just sleeping at his own place, when I know that I’m going to see him in the morning, kiss him in only a few more hours.

Did Aiden feel that way about me, all this time? The whole time he was gone?

I was always homesick. Not for Ketterbridge. For you.

If he loved me then even half as much as I love him now, then I just don’t fucking understand how he did it. How he pushed me away for so long, and then stayed away for even longer. I could never stay away from him like that, not when I feel this way about him.

And what little time Aiden did get to spend with me, before he left... that wasn’t really him. Besides that one day at the beach, he never got to be his real self around me. The person he pretended to be back then was such a lie, such a distortion, so not who he is. He lived full-time behind a disguise that hid the person within, the person I fell in love with. The real Aiden.

The Aiden who loved me all along.

Once again, the scale of this thing hits me, and the love that Aiden offers me feels too big to fit in my ordinary life.

Although. It’s been anything but ordinary, ever since he showed back up in Ketterbridge with his real laugh, his real smile, his real self.

I watch Aiden’s sleeping face, and suddenly my body can’t support the breadth of my feelings for him. My chest is constricting, my heart about to burst.

I sit up, lean over, and root through the drawer of my night table. Seize my inhaler, give it a shake before I use it. The clicking sound it makes is quiet, but Aiden stirs in his sleep immediately. His eyes blink open, then widen when they land on me.

He sits up, and the blanket goes slipping the rest of the way off of him, which does nothing whatsoever to help me get my breath back.

“Hey, what’s going on?” He takes me by my upper arms, his blue eyes now wide awake, filled with alarm. “Are you okay?”

“You owe me a new canister,” I gasp, one hand pressed to my chest. “I’m fine, though, it’s cool.”

“I owe you-?” Aiden jerks his head back, perplexed. “What happened?”

I’d rather die than tell him this happened because I was just looking at him, so I focus on trying not to wheeze.

“Here, sit up more.” Aiden pulls me further upright. “Should help you breathe easier.”

I raise my eyebrows at him, surprised. “Why do you know that?”

“Because-” Aiden breaks off, awkwardly rubbing his elbow. “I - read up on what to do if someone is having an asthma attack.” He chews the inside of his cheek, then shrugs. “Just wanted to be prepared if I ever heard something weird happen to your note.”

“Are you serious?” I manage, incredulous. “When did you do that?”

“Probably right around the first time I saw you use your inhaler?”

“What?” I stare at him, wide-eyed, taken aback. “When I was fourteen?”

“Ah…” Aiden hesitates, then shrugs again, avoiding my eyes. “Yeah.”

“Oh, my fucking - Aiden - please,” I stammer, my heart swelling even further. I drop my forehead onto his shoulder, let out a long groan. “I can’t - can’t take-”

He gently pushes my hand with the inhaler back towards my face. I straighten up, use it again.

Slowly, I get some air back in my lungs. Aiden watches and waits, one hand resting on my thigh. The weight and warmth of it serves as an anchor, grounding me.

“Seriously, what happened?” he asks, when I’m more or less back to normal. “You got through that whole thing with Matt just fine, and I’ve definitely seen you smoke a jay or two without issue, so what-?”

“Don’t worry about it,” I grumble, rubbing my eyes. “None of your damn business.”

“The website said that it would be helpful for me to know your asthma triggers, dude, so you really should tell me.”

“Ugh, Aiden!” Does he actually want me to fall apart, right now? “Stop saying that kind of stuff - you stupid jerk, you - you...”

I fade off, gazing into his blue eyes. He looks relieved to see me breathing, not particularly insulted by any of my words.

I find myself curling into him, twining my arms around his graceful torso, burying my face into his neck.

“Nothing happened.” I rest my cheek against him, and he winds his fingers into my hair. “I’m okay.”

“So why is this my fault, then?”

“You were - sleeping.”

“Oh, I see.” Aiden taps a finger to his temple, like it all makes sense. “You’re right, how could I? What a selfish bastard I am.”

“Honestly,” I agree, and Aiden huffs out a soft, indignant laugh.

He waits for me to go on, but I don’t. We sit there in silence. I smooth the tip of my index finger along the hard ridge of his collarbone, back and forth.

“Aiden,” I murmur, after a minute or two. “Do you remember what you said to me last night? Right before you fell asleep?”

From this vantage point, I can’t see his expression. But I feel his heartbeat stutter, then pick up speed.

His words are slow, halting, hesitant. “Yeah, I... I remember.”

“Did you mean it?”

There’s a lengthy pause, and then -

“Yes,” Aiden answers, very quickly.

I don’t say anything, just cuddle even closer into his arms, as close as I can possibly get.

A few blissful, cozy minutes slip by. Eventually, I sit back, plant a kiss on Aiden's lips, and get to my feet, stretching my arms over my head.

Aiden lounges back on his elbows, watching me, a smile playing around his mouth. I bend over to grab some boxers, then laugh when I straighten up to find him with his lip pinned between his teeth.

I like the way he looks reclining back in the sunshine, his bare, sculpted body sprinkled with warm light. I’m tempted to climb back into bed - to climb directly on top of him, honestly - but Kasey and Will were supposed to be back by last night, and it’s possible they got here after Aiden and I fell asleep.

Aiden follows my line of reasoning without my having to say anything. When I start buttoning my jeans, he climbs lazily out of bed, finds his own clothes, and slips the glasses onto his face.

But apparently he’s not going to let me out of the bedroom without a demonstration of how he’s feeling, because when I go to open the door, he presses me up against it. Bites down teasingly on the slope of my shoulder, flattens his body against mine.

I twist around and shove him away, then roll my eyes, trying to pretend that my heart isn’t suddenly racing. Aiden only smirks, his gaze lingering on the burnt red color of my cheeks.

We step out into the living room together.

It’s a bright, airy morning. The windows are filled with sunlight, dappled pine needles dancing in the breeze beyond the glass. The sky outside is clear, cloudless. Odd, because there’s supposed to be a lot of snow tonight. But things can change fast. Ketterbridge weather is unpredictable.

The sunshine pours right through two ghosts, asleep together on the couch.

Will is sprawled out on his back, Kasey curled against his side. He has an arm wrapped around her, and her cheek is smushed against his chest. They look comfy, tranquil. Breathing in tandem, even though they don’t really need to breathe at all. Will’s battered work boots are lined up beneath the coffee table, next to Kasey’s shoes. Her jacket is balled up beneath Will’s head, in place of a pillow.

My heart lifts at the sight, and I press my fingers over my mouth.

“Oh my god,” I whisper, twisting to grab a handful of Aiden’s shirt.

He breaks into a grin, folding his arms over his chest.

“Are the ghost goggles broken, or am I seeing what I think I’m seeing?”

“No, you’re seeing it, and I’m seeing it, too! Guess Will is getting more comfortable, huh?”

“It would appear so, yes.” Aiden looks down at me, wincing. “Hate to wake them up when they’re like that, but if we don’t have this talk now, I’m gonna be late for work.”

I glance at the time on my phone, and realize that the same is true for me. “Okay, yeah. Let’s-”

“Shut up, dummies,” Kasey interrupts, her words slurred with sleep.

Aiden and I both draw back, startled. We exchange a quick glance, then go together over to the couch.

“Can’t do that,” Aiden tells Kasey. “Jamie and I have work, so-”

“Let’s talk tonight,” she yawns, not bothering to open her eyes. “Meet us at the Ghost Office when you’re off. We have a lot to update you on. Also, Will says he hasn’t slept for like, two hundred years. Apparently you can’t do it when you’re incorporeal. We’re making up for lost time.”

Aiden and I look at each other. He shrugs, and I do, too. He turns and heads back towards the bedroom, presumably to get the work clothes he keeps here.

I start to follow him, but then double back. I move behind the couch, where I can reach Kasey more easily.

“Hey,” I whisper. She opens one eye and looks up at me. “Good to have you back, Kase-face.”

Kasey smiles, holds out her hand. I hold mine up to it, and we pretend to press our palms together.

Then she drops her hand, closes her eyes, and snuggles back up against Will.

~~~~

“It’s nice to see Kasey so happy,” Aiden says later, as we pull out of the City Hall parking lot. “Makes me feel less bad about making her into a ghost without her permission.”

I smile over at Aiden, who is positively adorable in his work clothes, especially paired with the glasses. He has one hand resting easily on the wheel, the other on my thigh.

“Don’t feel bad about that, babe. I’m pretty sure that Kasey is loving her second life. Even more so now, with Will in the picture. And - I would be really fucking sad, if you hadn’t done it.”

Aiden glances over at me, gives me a gentle squeeze. He looks like he’s about to say something, but he stops as a rasping noise coughs its way out from the engine of my car.

“You’re okay,” I tell the car, patting the dashboard. “I know it’s cold, but you’re fine.”

Aiden raises his eyebrows, then huffs out a soft laugh, turning his gaze back to the road.

“Jamie, this car-”

“Don’t start.”

“Okay, I’m just saying-”

“Nope. Hush. Shut your face.” I reach over to briefly press a hand over Aiden’s mouth. “No blasphemy against my car, please.”

“Why did I even try? I should’ve known better.” He breathes out another quiet laugh, flipping on the blinker. He chews the inside of his cheek, then adds: “Your hands smell nice. Green.”

“Full day at the shop.” I take a sip from my to-go cup from Mugshot, which is keeping my fingers nice and toasty. “I was trying to rescue some struggling plants. The shoots we got in this morning need a lot of help.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

I end up chattering about plants for the rest of the drive. Aiden listens quietly, every now and then glancing over at me with warm, affectionate eyes.

He turns us onto the street that runs alongside the river, and the Ghost Office rises from the cover of the trees.

Aiden pulls into the gravel driveway, puts the car in park. Together, we look out at the Ghost Office. The soot-stained walls, the white trim, the deep brown clapboard siding. The surrounding white oaks and bigleaf maples, their branches heavy with snow.

It’s been a minute since we’ve been here. It feels good to be back.

I turn to catch Aiden’s eye and find him looking at me. We exchange a small smile, then hop out of the car.

The sun is setting over the river, painting the sky gold and purple, gilding the surface of the river. A few winter birds are still out and about, drifting on a breeze too high up for us to feel.

It’s a still, quiet dusk that’s falling around us, but in the distance, all the way out on the horizon, I see clouds starting to gather.

“You think that snowstorm is actually coming?” I ask, as Aiden pushes the door up, locking it in place.

He turns and gazes up at the sky, the fading sunlight casting a glow over his face.

“Hm. Maybe. Yes.”

“Yikes. Let’s hope my car doesn’t actually die.”

Aiden wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer, catching me by surprise.

“Doesn’t sound so bad to me, Keane,” he says, his voice a low purr against my ear. “Wouldn’t be the first storm we’ve weathered together in the Ghost Office.”

My cheeks instantly start to burn at the memory, and Aiden smirks again. He lets go of me, then turns to head inside.

I back away from the door, slip my phone out of my pocket, open the camera. Aiden turns back to see what I’m doing, and I snap a picture of him. It ends up being a very cute candid, both Aiden and the Ghost Office tinted with the pastel colors of the winter sky at dusk.

Aiden lifts a questioning eyebrow when I smile at my phone. I stride over to join him, slipping it back into my pocket.

“First day of the new mission has to be documented,” I tell him. “Would we call a hunt for a ghost battery a form of ghost hunting, by the way? Like - is this our second ghost hunt? Is it fair to call it that?”

Aiden laughs, shaking his head.

“We’re the foremost authority on ghosts, like, in the entire world. Even if no one knows it. Who the fuck is gonna stop us?”

I lean up to pop a kiss onto his cheek. “Then let’s get hunting, Callahan.”

I slip through the door and lead the way inside, where the ghosts are waiting for us.