Chapter 28: Satisfying Time

< Shirley >
Realizing that the ghost could be right behind me, I screamed and spun around Dylan's chair and hugged him tightly. In fear, I sat on his lap and buried my face in the crook of his neck, whimpering.
"Please, please send the ghost away. I promise I will listen to whatever you say," I begged. Tears were ready to sprinkle from my eyes. I was feeling unexplainable terror at that moment, only his warmth was calming enough for me to not keep screaming.
"Get off me." Dylan tried to push me away, but I clung to him like a lifeline. He sighed, knowing I wouldn't budge.
"Please kill that ghost," I let out in a shaky voice, my eyes squeezed shut. I was quivering in fear, unaware of what I was doing to him, only managed to hold back my tears.
"No way. My guns don't affect ghosts, you know?" he let out, his breaths falling short for some reason.
"You guys are in this together, aren't you?" I predicted whatever came into my head. "Is the ghost still behind you?" I inquired, not having the courage to peek over his shoulder.
"Why don't you...get off my lap and hug something else?" he complained but I only held him tighter, trying to breathe in rapidly. Even though I was freaking out, I just had to inhale his cologne, and it was so heavenly. For a moment, I was lost in his minty scent.
I was about to tell him to check whether the presence behind was gone, but just then there was a knock on the window. I flinched, hugging Dylan tighter than ever, squeezing the life out of him. "Protect me, Dylan!" I cried out.
The knock was getting louder each passing second. The room was getting darker. I closed my eyes tightly and squeezed him tighter.
Oh, my God! Save me, God. It couldn't be my imagination. No person could knock on the window because it was on the 123rd floor. That was it. I was going to die now. No, Dylan was here. Yeah, he was my hope.
"Shirley, Shirley—" Dylan let out in a strangled voice, patting my back urgently. "I-I can-cannot brea-breathe." I immediately let go of his neck and pulled away, letting him gasp some air. Again, there was a loud knock and I wrapped my arms around him, making sure not to restrict his breathing system. "Can't you hear the knock on the window?"
"It's raining outside. It's the rain droplets that are hitting the window," he said.
Just then there was a thundering roar. I screamed again, and tears started slipping through my eyes. I started reciting the rhyme my mom taught me in childhood when I used to get scared, "I'm not afraid. I will not be afraid. I'm brave as any kid you see. When ghosts and witches pass me by, I will never ever run and cry—"
"Shirley, leave me." Dylan squirmed, trying to get me off him.
"I only wonder what he thinks. I'm not afraid. I'll not be afraid. I'm brave as—" I couldn't speak anymore as my throat felt too dry. I whimpered, letting out a sob.
Dylan stopped struggling and fell quiet for a moment before I felt his hand rubbing circles on my back. He stroked my hair lightly and awkwardly, saying, "It's okay. It will be okay. Don't cry. There's no such thing as ghosts. They do not exist. I was only kidding earlier. Now calm down."
"What if they are here and you can't see them?" I pointed out, starting to feel calmness washing over me slowly.
"Even if they are here, you have me. If my guns won't work, I will hire an exorcist. You have nothing to fear," he told me, patting my shoulder in slow motion. "What you are hearing right now is thunder and wind. There is a storm outside." His voice was so soothing to my ears, it was the warmest I had felt in ages. It was like sitting on my dad's lap while watching a football match when I was younger.
Dylan kept talking to me, trying to divert my mind, and it worked. My mind wasn't fuzzy anymore, and the room was tilting. It was indeed the devastation of the storm that scared me. Now that I thought about it, the reflection I saw was my own. I got scared due to my mind playing tricks with me.
My heartbeat slowed down, and my breathing stabilized, still I didn't let go of him. Once he realized I had stopped shaking, "What are you, a little gullible kid who is afraid of ghosts?"
"I have phasmophobia," I admitted, gulping down the saliva in my mouth. As shameful as it may be, I was scared of ghosts. Even the name of those freaked me out. That's why I tried to never think of them. Normally, I would faint, cry, scream or start hallucinating when I thought of them. I also hated dark rooms.
Dylan stared at me blankly. "Seriously?" I raised my head and looked at him innocently, my face only inches away from his. "That's like the lamest phobia ever." Seeing me lower my gaze in shame, he sighed. "I guess everyone has something that they fear, no matter how lame it is." A small smile cracked on my face. "Now will you get off my lap?" Heat swarmed my cheek as soon as I realized what position we were in.
I jumped up and moved away from him, and he released a big breath and placed a hand over his chest. "Sorry—" he interrupted me as I tried to apologize.
"You!" Dylan hollered. "Do you have any idea what you made me go through in the last few minutes?" I tilted my head in confusion and mouthed a small 'what?'. He groaned. "You are a woman, and I am a man," he said.
"Yeah, that's a biological fact," I let out.
Dylan scoffed in disbelief. "You were sitting on my lap, woman," he said, emphasizing each and every word. "And you were shaking—" he breathed out and buried his face in his hands.
My mouth formed into a big 'O' as I understood what he meant. No wonder he was breathing unsteadily. He was feeling sexually aroused by me. I was sure my face was beetroot red by now. The things I did while I was scared would forever remain shameful.
"You know what? Get out," Dylan stated.
"I still need to memorize—"
"I want you out of my fucking sight right now," he exclaimed.
I quickly grabbed my bag and the sheet of guidelines before rushing out of his cabin. I sighed in relief once I was out. Just then a question popped in my head, so I peeked my head through the door.
"Shirley, I said out—"
"The gaze, it was the feeling of being watched that scared me," I said before Dylan could speak.
"What gaze?" he hissed.
"I felt a gaze that made me feel like a ghost was watching me because you certainly wouldn't be staring at me—" I cut myself off as a realization hit me. I didn't even consider that point.
"Why would I be staring at you?" Dylan let out, his voice trembling at the end. "You aren't even that attractive."
"Maybe," I started, suppressing a grin from taking my face. "Maybe you do find me attractive," I said in a seductive voice.
"Like hell I do, woman," he said and covered his face with his file.
I pouted and mumbled, "Meanie."
I was about to close the door when Dylan spoke up timidly, it almost went unheard by me, "I am sorry." The moment those words slipped off his mouth, everything fell quiet for me, even the pattering of rain droplets stopped for me.
I froze on my track and turned around with a ghost of a look on my face. "What did you just say?"
"Nothing," he brushed it off. "Get going."
A smile crept up on my face as I understood what that apology was for. Dylan tried to scare me more for having fun, but in the end, he ended up suffering and made me cry. He wasn't that heartless after all. He was yet to turn into a person who was deaf to cries.
"Goodbye," I told him and closed the door of his cabin. I was grinning to myself when I saw Riley come out of the private elevator. Riley was the Chief Operating Officer of Dylan's company, so obviously, he would be here.
"Hi, Riley." I waved at him happily.
"Hey. What's with, um, your condition?" Riley let out awkwardly, glancing at me once then looking away.
"What's with my condition?" I asked back.
"How should I put it? You seem like, uh, you had a very," he paused, trying to think of a compatible word, "A very satisfying time."
"Eh?" I furrowed my brows in confusion. "I rather had a horrible—" I cut myself off when I caught my own reflection on the elevator doors. My hair was like a bird's nest, my crop top was a mess, roughly untucked around my skirt. "Thanks for that," I told Riley and rushed to the nearest washroom before anyone else saw me.
I shut the bathroom door and breathed out. Why the fuck didn't Dylan tell me anything about it? I got so embarrassed in front of Riley. Did Dylan want me to be embarrassed? He probably didn't even notice. That son of a gun.
I huffed and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, almost letting out a scream as I looked at my smudged lipstick. No wonder Riley thought I had a very satisfying time.
I glanced at my whole appearance and realized I looked like I had a very hot make-out session. That too, I came out of Dylan's cabin. Thank goodness no one else saw me. Otherwise, I would have drowned Dylan's reputation, then he would have drowned me in the lake.
But how did my lipstick get smudged?
That's when I remembered that I had my head buried in the crook of his neck, and my lips were very close to his collar and neck. I involuntarily touched my lips, feeling the sensation of his skin on them. I felt that tingle in my stomach again as I remembered the feeling when he was patting my back to calm me down and stroked my hair. Indeed, it was a very satisfying time.
I slapped myself and looked into my own eyes, taking a sharp breath, telling myself, "Snap out of your fallacy, Shirley Hamilton. Dylan is not for you. He is a Mafia leader with many secrets. You can't be having butterflies for a criminal like that."