Page 32 of Something Cryptid This Way Comes
I bump our shoulders together, and keep contact by leaning into him. “When you told me about seeing Mabel the day we met, I believed you.”
He pauses the video and turns so we’re facing each other and his passionate gaze locks on mine. “You believed me immediately. Without question. Do you know how much that meant to me? You’ve always had my back.”
“Of course I do. You’re…”Mine. I swallow hard and try again. “You’ve had mine.”
“I always will.” His lips meet mine in a kiss so tender, I finally understand what people mean when they refer to a heart-melting kiss.
Leaning back with a smile, he presses play. The story of the last time he saw Mabel, before he moved away, is heart wrenching. I move my plate to the coffee table and cover my hand over his, holding him. So much changed when he left, but I’m not sure I fully understood how much it affected him with my own grief at losing him consuming me at the time.
More Maplewood residents pop up on the screen to share their Mabel stories along with photos and jumpy home videos. Bram weaves them with tales from his research going back decades, and shares stories from those who were camera-shy.
It’s a wonderful episode and I’m so proud of him.
And later, when we’re lying on my bed and he finishes telling me about his time diving in Loch Ness, I show him how much.
CHAPTER 10
BRAM
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 glidingalong 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.
