Love, Like Ghosts: A Bay City Paranormal Investigations Story

would’ve just driven him away earlier.
Tears stung Adrian’s eyes. This time, he didn’t try to stop them. He covered his face with his hands and cried.

Chapter Sixteen
    Adrian woke in the dark with his cheek pressed to cold stone. The left side of his body was numb where he’d curled up on the floor of the tower room.
He pushed to his feet, wincing as a thousand aches and pains born of sleeping on the rocky floor flared to life. A look at the fluorescent hands of his watch told him it was just after one in the morning. He felt weak and wrung out, and his head throbbed, but his mind was clear and uncluttered. An emotional breakdown followed by eight plus hours of sleep—even if it was on the floor of a cold castle room—would do that.
He laughed, the sound harsh and humorless in the empty room. Anyone else would have some major explaining to do in the morning. Friends, lovers, roommates or study groups to whom they’d have to explain their unexpected absence. He had no one. His family didn’t expect him to call at any particular time, and now the only person in his life who would’ve noticed his disappearance no longer wanted to see him.
The giant hook that seemed to have buried itself in the center of his chest dug in a little bit deeper. He scowled, impatient. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You can’t change the past. All you can do now is try to talk to him, tell him how much you regret what happened, and wait for him to be ready to take you back.
He refused to consider the possibility that Greg truly might not want him back. He knew that might be the case, but his emotions were far too fragile to dwell on it. Besides, the two of them couldn’t have lasted this long if Greg didn’t care about him enough to at least try to get past this.
Right?
Shoving the dark thoughts to the back of his mind, Adrian crossed the room to the door. The moon had already set, and the night was pitch dark. He picked his way down the narrow spiral staircase and across the main hall downstairs by feel in the inky blackness. He left the castle and locked the door behind him, making a mental note to bring a light bulb and a broom with him next time he returned.
The temperature had dropped several degrees in the time Adrian had been in the castle. He zipped his jacket, stuffed his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders against the icy breeze. He started toward his apartment at as brisk a walk as he could manage in the darkness. Then he remembered his bed would be cold and empty, and he slowed down. No point in hurrying when all places were equally lonely now without Greg.
“You’re being ridiculous,” Adrian admonished himself through chattering teeth. “Stop it.”
Since he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about Greg, Adrian decided to analyze Greg’s behavior from the previous afternoon and try to figure out what had been going on in his head. He’d been far too upset at the time to pick up on the small clues which would no doubt shed some light on what had happened. Maybe looking at it now—with a clearer head—would give him some idea as to what had made Greg angry in the first place, and how to approach him.
Adrian did not, however, speed up his pace. He’d rather freeze on the street than be alone in his apartment any sooner than absolutely necessary.
As he strolled along, he reviewed the previous day’s conversation word by word. In spite of the pain it caused, he also conjured the memory of Greg’s face and studied it with as much scientific detachment as he could muster. He noted the discomfort in Greg’s expression when he first said to Greg that he wanted to tell him something he’d never told anyone else, then the swift flash of whatever-it-was that Adrian still couldn’t label but which made his heart beat faster anyway.
When his memory-self assured Greg that he wanted to tell him this and he saw Greg’s expression soften with an unmistakable tenderness, Adrian knew he’d found the crux of the problem. The way Greg’s eyes shone with betrayal for a heartbeat before his face froze at the mention of psychokinesis and portals told Adrian all he needed to know.
He groaned. This explained everything. Greg had thought Adrian was trusting him with an event of major importance from his past, knowledge with which he’d never trusted anyone else. The fact that it was true didn’t matter, in the end. What mattered was what Greg believed. And if Adrian was right, Greg believed Adrian