Hours had passed since we’d arrived at Callum’s apartment. He’d returned to his canvas and brushes on shaky legs after I’d jerked him off. I ignored the throbbing of my own cock and continued the search, looking for the backpack his mother said was missing. The whole time I searched, I could only wonder if it counted as sex with a ghost if they didn’t touch you? I’d only touched him so . . . didn’t count, right? Plus, Callum isn’t technically dead, just . . . slowly dying. I needed to save him. But how? I sat on the…