Ghost of a Chance Read online

  James smiled at Ryan. “Thanks. But I'm not sure I'm ready to relate the whole sad tale. Not here, anyway.” He took a deep breath. “At least the night's almost over."

  Ryan wasn't sure he wanted to hear the whole sordid tale, but he would listen if James wanted to tell him. The rest of the evening went quickly, and soon it was time to leave. Ryan waited while James closed up, and then he went with him to the car.

  James drove in silence back to the castle, deep in his thoughts. When they were pulling into the driveway, he turned to Ryan and said, “So, you hungry? I can make some stir fry or something..."

  "Yeah. I am kinda hungry. I'll help you.” He followed James into the kitchen. The familiarity of it was soothing.

  James started pulling out vegetables. “Do you know how to work the rice maker?” he asked, his head still stuck in the huge refrigerator.

  "Yeah. I'm not completely helpless, you know.” He got out the rice cooker and then the rice. He smiled at James. “Of course I can't testify to how it'll come out."

  James smirked. “I wasn't saying you were helpless. Just incompetent in the kitchen.” He grinned.

  "Peasant,” Ryan sniffed dramatically. “We Earls are made for finer things,” he said in a fake British accent. He measured the rice, and then the water.

  James rolled his eyes. “Speaking of Earls, are we alone?” He looked around as if he could see the ghosts, as he heated up the pan.

  Ryan laughed. “Yeah. He's not here. For once.” He started up the rice cooker and leaned back against the counter.

  James looked over at Ryan. “I'm glad you came to hang out with me tonight,” he said.

  Ryan smiled. “I'm glad I did, too.” He couldn't stop thinking about how sad James had been when he was reminded of the earlier heartbreak. He stepped forward and put his arms lightly around him from behind, resting his cheek on James’ shoulder. “If you want to talk about it, I'll listen,” he said.

  James leaned into Ryan's touch. “Not right now, if that's okay,” he said softly, putting a hand over Ryan's hand that rested on his stomach. “I'm in too good a mood to ruin it just yet."

  "Sure,” he said. And then a huge frying pan clattered loudly to the floor. Ryan jumped back with a gasp.

  James jumped, too, burning his hand on the hot pan. “What the fuck was that?” He looked around; neither of them had been near the pan that now lay on the floor.

  "Percy?” Ryan called out. He looked around. “Percy, are you here?” He felt apprehensive. It might not be Percy.

  James frowned. “Damn ghost. Let me try something,” he suggested, and walked over to Ryan and pulled him into his arms.

  Ryan gasped and whimpered. He almost fell against James and nothing had ever felt so good. Just as quickly, though, he felt himself being pulled backwards, knocked off his feet. He fell on the tiled floor on his ass.

  "Fuck!” James cried, running over to where Ryan had fallen. “I'm sorry,” he said as he kneeled beside him.

  "Um, ow,” Ryan said, pulling himself to his feet. “I guess it's not Percy,” he said, brushing himself off.

  "I guess not,” James echoed. “Are you hurt?” he asked with worry, hovering near Ryan.

  "No. I'm okay,” he said. “Just a little sore.” The silverware drawer rattled open noisily, and that was when Percy finally appeared.

  "He's on a rampage!” he said, sounding hysterical. “Follow me! I know someplace you'll be safe!"

  "Percy wants us to follow him to someplace safe,” Ryan blurted, heading after the ghost towards the dining room.

  James paused only a second to turn off the burner under their dinner, then raced after Ryan. “Where are we going?” he called out, completely confused.

  "I don't know!” Ryan called back over his shoulder. As they passed down the long row of chairs, the chandelier shook violently.

  "Hurry!” Percy called out.

  Ryan darted after him, only pausing to make sure James was close behind.

  James followed, looking back with alarm. “Are we in danger?” he called out, still running behind Ryan.

  Percy guided Ryan around a sharp turn and into a small parlor off the foyer. A door flung open and Ryan stepped inside.

  "Yes! Tell him yes, you are in danger. In here, quickly."

  "Percy says we're in danger and to get in here,” Ryan relayed frantically. As soon as James was inside the small, empty closet with him, the door slammed shut.

  The darkness was almost complete, and Ryan reached out to feel how large the closet was. He could touch both sides with his hands, so it was less than six feet square. And it was cold. He shivered.

  "Do you know what the hell is going on?” James whispered

  Percy stuck his ghostly head through the door. “Just stay calm. I'll let you know when the coast is clear."

  For some reason, Ryan thought to try the doorknob. It was locked. “Percy, why is the door locked?” He moved closer to James, pressing against him. “He said he'd tell us when the coast is clear."

  James had to try the doorknob also. “Why is it locked? Why are we safe here? Can't he just come through the door like Percy can?"

  Ryan tried calling out for Percy again, but this time there was no answer. “I don't know. He won't come back now.” Ryan hugged his arms around himself for warmth. “I guess we're stuck for the time being.” He fumbled around, reaching for a wall, and then sank to the floor.

  "Wonderful,” sighed James. He reached out for Ryan, but didn't feel him. “Where are you? Fuck, it's cold."

  Ryan reached up his hand and felt James’ thigh by accident. “On the floor. Come sit next to me,” he said softly. “I'm really sorry about this."

  "It's not your fault,” James said, taking Ryan's hand to guide him down. He settled next to Ryan, their hips pressed together. “What could a ghost do to us?"

  "Well, if he could throw me down on the floor, I'm sure he could throw me against a wall. And if he could drop a skillet, he could probably throw a knife just as easily.” He didn't like the idea, but it seemed obvious that the fourteenth Earl meant them harm. “I wonder how long we'll be stuck in here,” he said softly, wrapping his arms around himself for warmth.

  James put his arm around Ryan cautiously. “Maybe he can't see us in here?"

  Ryan leaned against him. “At least there's nothing in here that he could hit us with. Maybe he can't get objects through walls or something.” He rested his head on James’ shoulder, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. It made him ache, though, yearn for more. But he'd never have more. James was straight.

  "Did Percy say why this was happening?” James asked softly.

  "He didn't say. Before, he mentioned that the fourteenth Earl thought I was, that we were...” The good thing about the dark was that no one could see you blush. “It seems that he's really homophobic. But you'd think he'd realize that there's nothing really going on."

  "Ryan,” James said softly. “Is there really nothing going on?"

  Ryan's eyes widened in the dark. “What do you mean? I can't help it. Okay, I admit I like you. And I'm attracted to you. But I would never expect anything, James.” He sat up a little straighter. “You're very important to me. I would never try to push you into something you didn't want."

  "I know,” James assured him. He took a deep breath. “But, what if I did want?” He spoke barely above a whisper.

  Ryan gasped. “Do you?” he asked. His heart was pounding suddenly. He could still feel that brief embrace in the kitchen before he'd been knocked over. He'd been caught between hoping and not hoping since he'd met James.

  "I've never met anyone like you, Ryan,” James said softly, looking down. “You think I'm straight. And I guess I have been, for a long time. But, a long time ago...” His breath caught. “I've never told anyone about this."

  Ryan reached over in the dark and took hold of James’ other hand, holding it between his own. He turned towards him, even though he couldn't see him. “Never told anyone what?” he whispered. />
  "When I was about sixteen, I was in boarding school. My father traveled a lot, and it was just easier to ship me off to school, I guess. Well, I had a friend. My best friend, I guess. He was a year older.” He paused.

  Ryan gently stroked James’ palm soothingly. Whatever it was James was trying to tell him was obviously difficult for him. He was flattered and happy that James was choosing to share something so personal with him when they'd only known each other a few days.

  "My father always thought we were too attached to each other,” James continued. “We did everything together. We were inseparable.” He leaned into Ryan's touch. “Well, my father was right I guess. We were too close to each other."

  "How can you be too close to someone?” he whispered. Of course he'd come out early in life and was used to living completely out in the open.

  "I don't even know how it happened,” James said softly. “It just sort of did. We'd brush up against each other, deliberately. Share these looks. We didn't dare do much more than that. There was always strict supervision, and we didn't have a clue what we were doing. But then, we had two weeks off for spring break, and his parents were out of town, so my father agreed to let him stay over at our house. My father was called out of town on business, and I begged him to let us stay alone. He finally gave in. So that night..."

  Ryan was listening intently. James had fooled around with another guy. His heart was in his throat. What could make him deny it all so completely? “What happened?” he whispered, almost afraid to speak at all.

  James laughed softly. “It was amazing. It was wonderful. We touched and kissed and made each other come. Then my father came home. His flight had been cancelled. He caught us. Naked in my bed. There was no way we could deny what we were doing."

  Ryan rested his head against James’ shoulder again. “Oh God. That must have been awful,” he whispered. “Did you get in trouble?” He couldn't imagine how embarrassing and frightening that would have been for James.

  "So much trouble,” James replied, trembling. “I thought my father was going to kill me. Or disown me. I think he never really forgave me, ever. But the worst part of all was yet to come. He blamed my friend. He was older, he said, he'd seduced me into depravity.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Nothing was farther from the truth. It was all mutual. But he had him shipped home. Forbade me to ever see him again. I thought I'd see him in school, at least, when I went back. That was the only thing that kept me going. But when I got back, he was gone, and his room was empty. My father had had him kicked out."

  "Wow.” He was stunned for a moment. “Did you ever speak to him again?” he asked. It was only a few years later that they were both adults, technically.

  "No. My father said that if I ever talked to him again, he would never speak to me again. I was sixteen. I was scared. I was alone. By the time I was old enough to do things on my own, I did think about it. But all I'd heard was how disgusting I was, how sick it was, and.... “He shook his head. “I tried to forget it had ever happened. Buried it, I guess. It wasn't that I didn't like girls. I did. But I also liked boys. I thought it would go away. So I was a coward. I never did try to find him."

  It all seemed so incredibly tragic to Ryan. Like Romeo and Juliet. “Were you in love with him?” he asked in hushed voice. He wasn't sure why he wanted to torture himself with the information. He'd wondered earlier if James was still in love with Laura after seeing them together. But Ryan was beginning to suspect that he was in love, himself. With James. And for the first time he thought maybe, just maybe, someday, James could feel the same.

  "I don't know,” admitted James. “I thought I was. But I was so young.” He turned his face toward Ryan. “I was never really attracted to another man.” He paused. “Until I met you."

  Ryan was having difficulty breathing. “All this time you've been ashamed of it,” he whispered. “There was nothing wrong with what you did, you know, right?” He wanted James more than anyone he'd ever wanted, but he didn't want someone who was going to hate himself over it.

  "I know that, I guess,” James said. “But I never really made up with my father, not really. I always knew he was ashamed of me. That every time he looked at me, he remembered that night. I guess I regret that most of all. You can see why I wanted to stay here, and never go back home."

  Ryan shifted and put his arms around James, pulling him in. “I'm sure he's not ashamed of you,” he said softly. “I'm sure he has a greater understanding now.” He stroked James’ hair, only wanting to comfort him. “Did I tell you Percy passed along a message to me from my father? Maybe he can contact yours."

  "I don't know. I never thought of that. I'm not sure if I want to know if he hates me still.” He wrapped his arm around Ryan's waist. He turned his head so his face was pressed into the other man's hair. “You smell good,” he said.

  "Paul Mitchell shampoo,” he whispered. He ran his hands down James’ back, just holding him. “How could your dad hate you? You're smart and kind and funny and, well, he just couldn't. It's not possible."

  "You're so sweet,” James breathed. “I've never had the guts to tell anyone about this before. I feel like I can trust you, Ryan. I have to tell you one more thing."

  "You can tell me anything, James,” he said, although his stomach lurched a little when James said that. No matter what it was, it wouldn't change his opinion of his new friend.

  "When you gave me the backrub,” James began, “When you touched me, and straddled me, it made me hard,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

  Ryan drew a sharp breath and swallowed hard. “Me, too,” he admitted. Everything was intense, so on the surface. He wanted to know what that meant, but he didn't want to push. James seemed so fragile at the moment. He massaged his shoulders a little. “You're sexy,” he whispered. “I couldn't help myself."

  James shook his head. “You're the sexy one. I love to look at you. I love to be with you. You make me feel, I don't know, but I like it,” he finished shyly. “You probably think I'm stupid."

  "I think you're the sweetest, nicest, most wonderful guy I've ever met,” he said. “And now that I know you're not a hundred percent straight, I'm gonna flirt with you a whole lot more.” He smiled. “Ghost or no ghost."

  "I think that's what got us stuck in here as it is,” he teased. “But...” he said suddenly, “What if I want to do more than flirt?"

  Ryan could hear the smile in James’ voice and it made him smile, too. “More than flirt? Llliiikke ... what exactly?” he asked in a slightly singsong voice. He knew in his heart he would take whatever James felt comfortable giving.

  "Like I've wanted to kiss you, almost since we met."

  "What a coincidence...” he whispered. He let his fingers explore James’ face lightly, until he was touching his lips. He wriggled a little closer and nuzzled against James’ jaw, his own lips moving closer and closer to James'.

  Whimpering, James moved closer, until their lips just brushed.

  Ryan moaned and his arm slid naturally around James’ neck. He wanted to let James set the pace, but he ached for him so badly. He parted his lips just a little and the tip of his tongue ventured out between them shyly. James parted his lips to match Ryan's, and gasped when he felt the other man's tongue. He met Ryan's tongue with his own, tentatively.

  It was the sweetest kiss he'd ever had. It was perfect. He stroked his tongue more deeply into James’ mouth, swirling and moaning softly, tasting him thoroughly. He never wanted it to end. And it was James! It wasn't some random party boy he'd just met. It was this kind, complex, brave, generous guy to whom he was quickly losing his heart.

  Slowly, as they kissed, James raised his hand to the back of Ryan's neck. His hand tangled in Ryan's long, soft hair, and he moaned softly.

  Ryan was on fire for James and he wriggled closer, finally straddling his lap to deepen the kiss. The small, dark closet seemed warm and cozy now, and Ryan never wanted to leave it. He kissed James like his very life depended on t
hose lips, that hot slick mouth, like he'd die without this contact.

  James moaned into Ryan's mouth, the kiss suddenly escalating in heat. His hands settled to Ryan's hips and he arched up against him instinctively. Their hardening cocks pressed against each other. Ryan whimpered, grinding down against him needily. He was still plundering James’ mouth, clinging to him like a lifeline. He was so aroused he thought he might come without a touch. James wanted him. It was the most amazing feeling in the world.

  Finally James pulled back. He was panting, staring at Ryan's face though he couldn't really see him. “Ryan,” he whispered. “Oh God..."

  "J-James, I,” gasping for breath, he leaned forward and rested his forehead on James’ shoulder. “I think I'm falling in love with you.” He probably shouldn't have said it, but he couldn't hold it in another moment.

  Gasping, James wrapped his arms more tightly around the slender man on his lap. “Oh, Ryan, I feel the same way. I was so confused."

  Ryan cuddled closer, fitting his body against James', pressing his face into the crook of his neck. “I never dreamed you would like me, too.” He'd never known a guy as wonderful as James.

  "You're the most amazing, brave man I've ever met,” James responded immediately, holding him tight. “And the sexiest,” he added a little shyly.

  Ryan grinned against James’ neck. He reached out his hand and pounded on the door. He raised his head, and called out, “Percy? Let us out of here, please!” He wanted to go to bed and kiss James until they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, or whatever else James wanted to do.

  The door knob clicked and the door opened just a crack.

  James looked up. “You don't suppose this whole thing was just a ruse to lock us in a room together?” he asked suspiciously. “Not that I mind the results, but..."

  "I guess we'll find out as soon as we kiss out there in the open,” he said softly. He climbed off of James’ lap and straightened up, opening the door. He held out his hand to help James up. He had a perfect argument for the fourteenth Earl if he did attack again, though.