A.N - Okay, so i've had quite a few hits and not so many reviews. I know you've probably read this last time it was posted but after this the chapters are completely new again. So please review. It really does make a writer feel appreciated.

Also, Lady of The Night should be updated pretty soonish as me and x-Moondancing Millie-x are working on the next chapter this weekend.

Chapter 3

As I climbed into bed that night, Jesse haunted my thoughts. Jesse, whose last name I did not know. I didn't even know how he died and why he was stuck in Paul's room. Not for lack of trying mind, how many times did I actually tell him that we needed to figure it out? Yeah, a lot. The only thing I did know was that he liked me. Maybe. A little bit.

The way his voice had sounded still rang in my ears while the shivers I had felt in his presence still shocked my senses.

He was there when I slept as well. Talking to me in my dreams.

"Susannah." His voice called to me cutting through the sleepy state I was in.

I sat up in bed and blinked successively in an attempt to blink the sleep from my eyes in order to see more clearly. The sight I saw was not one I was expecting. I have been woken up by numerous ghosts before but I had never welcomed a visit as much as I did this one.

"Jesse?" Despite having just woken up, my voice was surprisingly clear and my tone well spoken. I couldn't help congratulating myself. It was quite an amazing feat, I thought.

"Sí, querida." His voice had a smile in it. "It is me."

I climbed out from underneath my heavy covers and began to search my bedroom for the other worldly glow Jesse was giving off. When I found it my breath left me in a whoosh.

He looked so … Jesse-like. Calm with a lazy smile and an eyebrow raised in amusement, as if he found the simple act of me waking up funny.

I stepped closer to him, still not sure whether I was asleep or not. It all seemed to be a bit surreal. My attention was drawn to the scar that broke through his raised eyebrow and I couldn't help but wonder where he'd gotten it from. My finger reached up to trace said scar before I was fully able to realise what I was doing.

If he didn't like me doing it, he sure didn't make any move to push me away. I let my hand drop to my side.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered against his lips. We were standing close together again. Close but not actually touching.

"That doesn't matter, querida." He was whispering too. "The point is that I am."

"And Paul?" I couldn't help but bring him up. It totally wasn't the time, I knew it. But he was like a storm cloud hanging over our heads. Figuratively speaking, of course.

I had to smother a laugh. If there was ever a relationship that was never going to work out, it was this one. A ghost and a mediator. You could so see that ending happily.

"Doesn't matter." He repeated as he leaned closer to me, his lips coming dangerously close to mine.

My pulse started racing. I had never felt this when Paul meant to kiss me. My entire body hummed with excitement.

Then his lips clashed with mine. Soft, sweet but so, so welcome. He brought his arms up to wrap around my waist and pulled me closer to him. Suddenly my body was pushed up against his. My body burned for his touch.

"Susannah!" He gasped, pulling away from me. "We can't do this."

Still dazed from the most intense kiss of my life, I pouted.

"You're the one who came to my room." I threw at him.

At least he had the mind to look suitably apologetic.

"I know." He replied. "But I couldn't stay away. You've been haunting me, Susannah. And when I saw you leave with Slater …"

His fist clenched in anger sending a thrill through me.

"His hands smothering you with their touch." His voice became soft again. "And there was nothing I could do about it."

I sympathised with him, I really did. I knew how he felt. It's not like I am allowed to acknowledge him with Paul in the room. Not unless I want Paul to think I'm a freak. None of his family supported Jack when he had told them of his predicament.

"Jesse." Was all I said however. I didn't know how else to reply.

Apparently, Jesse didn't care that much about whether or not our relationship would be suitable as he claimed my lips in another smouldering kiss. I can't say that I protested much though.

"Jesse." I pulled away as a thought occurred to me. "Am I dreaming?"

His deep chuckle reverberated through me.

"No querida," He assured me. "You are not."

"This is really happening." I whispered in awe more of a question than a statement. As I mentioned before, the entire situation was totally surreal.

"Yes, Susannah. It really is."

Then, happily, the kissing continued. I had never felt as loved - as wanted - as I did when Jesse was kissing me. He made me feel - dare I say it - loved.

"Susannah," he muttered trailing kisses along my jaw. "It is getting late. Or, rather, early. I had better go."

"Do you have to?" I pleaded, not even caring about the whining quality my voice took on.

"I wish I didn't, but yes, querida, I do."

I pouted for good measure.

All I got for my efforts was a quick peck and then the rush of cold air filling the places Jesse had been warming with his body. Does that ghost ever actually say goodbye before leaving?

I climbed into my bed once again, the sun beginning to rise over the ocean told me that the whole ordeal wasn't a dream as my brain kept trying to tell me.

Jesse really had been here. Kissing me. Holding me.

I fell asleep again with a smile on my face.