Page 19

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I heft up the pack on my back as I follow Trevor through the wooded area I once knew as well as I know every nuanced fleck that colors the brown of his eyes.

The sun hangs bright in the sky, keeping the temperature moderate, even at our higher elevation.

Newly fallen leaves crunch under our hiking boots and the air smells of earth and wood.

“Remember when you, Ever, and I used to come here in high school?” Trevor gestures to a clearing. “How about here?”

I look around, my gaze unfocused as memories of all the times I hung out in these woods pour over me.

Goofing around and being typical kids with Ever and Trevor.

Campouts with Trevor, telling ghost stories to see who could scare the other more.

And the times it was just me, needing space to recenter, not that I had any clue that was what I was doing at the time. “Yeah. This will work.”

I plunk my pack down on the damp ground. This time of year the ground up here always seems to be damp. Pressing my hands to my lower back, I bend backwards until a pop sounds .

“Ugh, I felt that from here.” Trevor scrunches up his face and a shiver runs through his sturdy body.

I roll my eyes, my lips twitching. “Like you don’t crack your neck all the time.”

“Snaps, cracks, and pops, we’re like a talking breakfast cereal.” He bends at the knees and unzips his backpack.

My laughter, loud enough to flush a pair of squawking birds from their perches, rings out over the mountain. And my startled jump thanks to the birds’ surprise flight makes me laugh even harder.

Face alight, he bites his bottom lip, but it doesn’t keep his laughter from falling out. Still chuckling, he pulls out two granola bars and tosses me one.

I unwrap the bar and bite into it.

“Damn, I missed this.” He stands and gestures to the tree line. “Should we take a break before we set up camp and explore?”

I grab my water bottle and follow him to the edge of the trees.

The mountain isn’t particularly high, but this place overlooking the valley has always felt like mine and Trevor’s.

I take up a spot on a flat boulder, warm and dry from the sun, and Trevor sits next to me, close enough our thighs press together.

By this time in October, the leaves in Philly are just beginning to turn, but in Maplewood, they’re coming to the end of their life cycle.

My gaze scans the valley, the majority of trees are bald, preparing to rest for the winter, but the pockets of golds and oranges sprinkling the area are like the M&M’s in trail mix.

People want more, but are happy every time they find one.

I lean my head on Trevor’s shoulder with a contented sigh. “I’ve missed this.”

“Me too.” He rests his cheek on my head.

My gaze follows a hawk gliding along the path of the twisting river below. “I suppose you’re not able to get up here as much as you’d like.”

“No.”

Which is why I’m so grateful that he’s taken time off to camp and explore with me, especially with everything he has going on right now.

The haunted house alone would be more than anyone else could handle.

We’ve been setting it up this week, hours of exhausting, muscle-aching work.

But Trevor makes everything look easy with his quiet strength, good humor, and genuine love for the inn.

“Coming to our spot hasn’t been the same since you left. So, I don’t.”

I gasp at his confession and spin to face him.

“You okay?” His eyes round in question as he scans my face and body, looking for any indication of injury.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. My brain races to catch up with what he’s implying. Finally, my voice recovers and I ask, “When was the last time you were here?”

He looks up and to the left, chewing his bottom lip like he’s counting. “High school graduation? Ever and I came up after Selwyn’s party, but it wasn’t the same without you. Ever and I have hiked in the area, but…” He shrugs his shoulders.

All I can do is gape, my chest tight and full simultaneously. This man, this sweet, sensitive, stubborn man. “You never told me.”

“What was there to tell?” His focus falls to the blades of grass beneath our feet.

I grab his face in both hands and kiss him, pouring all the love I have for him into it.

Yes, I love Trevor. Those romantic feelings that have been slowly building for years are love.

I know that now. Maybe it seems like something I should have realized years ago.

I don’t know why I didn’t figure it out earlier.

But the why of it doesn’t matter now because I. Love. Trevor.

He slides onto my lap, straddling me like he can’t get close enough, and I swear everything I feel for him is being conveyed back to me with each tangle of our tongues.

Realizing my love for my best friend at our spot makes it all the better.

After minutes or maybe hours, I slow the kiss.

I rest my forehead to his, soaking in the weight of him on my lap and absorbing the heat of the rock.

The urge to tell him I love him, to shout it to the world from this spot, is great, but I also don’t want to scare him off.

Don’t want him to think it’s a whim or that my feelings will change when I leave Maplewood.

I need to show him how in love I am with him. Maybe the gift I have for him will be a step in that direction because now that I know, I don’t want to leave without him knowing too.

I kiss the tip of his nose. “Ready to set up camp, then do some exploring?”

“Sounds good.” He hops off my lap and reaches his hand out to pull me up.

We walk back to the clearing and make quick work of setting up.

The gear my sponsor gave me is state-of-the-art, which makes our work that much easier.

But we also work well together, we always have.

Years of friendship have given us a shorthand for communicating in addition to Trevor being my favorite person in the world.

As soon as we have everything up, we head off into the woods to look for clues of cryptids.

I’m interested in this area specifically because Ever mentioned he and his boyfriend thought they saw Mabel here, and a couple of Agnes’s gardening club members mentioned seeing unexplained things in this vicinity.

Trevor helps me document tracks, a strange marking on a rock, and spies an odd stone formation.

While we search and explore, we share memories of when we were boys running around in these woods and tell stories of our lives while we’ve been apart.

Talking and texting almost every day, Trevor and I already know most of each other’s stories, but there’s something about having time to ramble on, knowing I have all day and all night with him that is freeing.

As the sun gets lower and lower on the horizon, we head back to our campsite, gathering kindling along the way. When we reach the clearing, my legs are tired from all the walking, and my cheeks ache from laughing and smiling so much.

“This was a good day.” I dump my armful of kindling on top of Trevor’s pile, then unscrew my water bottle, drinking down the contents.

Trevor opens the two ultra-light, ultra-portable camping chairs, placing them in front of our designated fire pit, and plops into one with a long sigh. He wiggles around, shifting this way and that. “These are surprisingly comfortable.”

“Yeah?” I debated bringing them because we had so much other gear with my investigation stuff, but they were so compact finding space for them was easy. Sitting down, I stretch out my legs. “You’re right. Who would have thought?”

“It pays to have good sponsors.” But Trevor’s appreciative gaze is on my body, not the equipment, journeying from head to toe.

“Literally.” I brush my fingertip along his, hooking our index fingers together.

He chuckles and we sit in companionable silence with our heads back, watching the white clouds turn to pink as the sun prepares to sleep for the night.

“I don’t want to move, but if we want a fire, we should get it going now.” I go to unhook my finger, but he tightens his hook and tugs.

Twisting, he leans over the side of the chair. “Kiss me first.”

Warmth washes through me. I brush my palm over the soft whiskers of his beard, marveling that I can do this now.

I can touch him this way, kiss him. My lips pass over his in a light, almost-there touch, and the growl that rumbles from the back of his throat goes straight to my cock. “Not what you want?”

“More.” He drags my chair until it’s bumped up against his. Those big hands of his, rubbing up and down my thighs, have my body straining toward him.

Trevor’s sexy mono-syllable growls are quickly becoming my favorite thing.

I smile against his lips, and slide the tip of my tongue over the seam.

He groans and opens. As soon as our tongues touch, he takes control.

His fingers press into my legs hard enough to leave marks.

With every lick and nip he takes another piece of me, and I willingly let him have them all.

Needing more contact, I shift, swinging my leg over his thigh, but my chair wobbles.

I grab onto Trevor’s shirt for purchase, but instead of helping, the shift catapults me backwards.

The chair collapses, and I hit the damp ground with a thud, yanking Trevor.

His shirt still bunched in my fists, he lands on top of me with a grunt.

Immediately, he pushes up onto his arms. “You okay?”

“Yeah. You?” I release his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles.

He grins. “I may have something to say to your sponsor about the stability of those chairs. Other than that, I’m fine.”

I lift my head and give him a peck. “I’d say you’re better than fine.”

“Flatterer.” He jumps up, helps me stand, then brushes off his jeans. “I’ll start the fire and get the water heating. You get the bowls and the food.”

“You have yourself a deal.”