Page 33 of Something Cryptid This Way Comes
“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’tmatter 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’vebeen 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. Ican 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.”
