I reached out to run my hand down his side…but he didn’t move.
Didn’t blink.
My pulse kickedup a beat.
Beau stirred beside me. “What’s goin’ on?” he asked, sitting up.
“Milo’s freaking out.”
He sat up fast, tension rippling off him. He was shirtless, sweats slung low on his hips. If there was something out there…
“I’m gonna get dressed,” I muttered. “Just in case?—”
But before I could finish my sentence, the zipper on the tent started tomove.
We both sat there, staring at the zipper along with Milo, Beau reaching out slowly to put his arm in front of me—as if that would do anything. “It’s…it’s probably just Whit or Shane fucking with us,” I whispered. “Gotta be?—”
The zipper inched downward, teeth parting one by one in slow, jerking stutters. Not smooth like someone pulling it with confidence. Like someone—orsomething—was figuring it out as they went.
“No way Shane’s this committed,” Beau muttered.
Milo growled louder. Beau reached behind him, grabbed the flashlight off the gear pile, and thumbed it on. The light flared, catching the glint of the zipper tab just as it stopped moving. Whoever had been opening it…wasn’t anymore.
“Hello?” I said, instantly regretting it. My voice sounded too thin, too bright.
Nothing.
Not a footstep. Not a breath.
Beau moved closer to the flap, crouching low, the flashlight trained steady. “You stay behind me,” he said again, not looking back.
I grabbed the closest hoodie—his—and threw it over my tank top, my fingers fumbling with the sleeves. I didn’t even bother with shoes.
Beau eased the flapopen.
The flashlight beam cut through the dark, and we both leaned forward?—
Nothing.
No one.
The fire pit outside had burned low, just faint orange coals in a ring of ash. The folding chairs were still in a half-circle where we’d left them. The cooler was tipped a little, like someone had bumped it, but there was no sign of another person. No footprints. No flashlight beam retreating into the woods.
“Could’ve been an animal,” I whispered.
“Could’ve been,” Beau said, but he didn’t believe it. I didn’t either.
We stepped out into the cold.
Milo followed, fur still bristling, his body tight with warning. Beau’s hand found the small of my back. My whole body was still humming from the memory of his mouth on me, his voice in my ear. But that comfort had been peeled back now, stripped away by whatever was waiting out here.
I turned slowly in a circle, taking in the trees, the shadowy trail leading back to the cars. “I don’t like this.”
“Me neither.” Beau rubbed his jaw. “You wanna grab your stuff?”
I didn’t answer.
I couldn’t.
