“I’ll go slow,” they reassure me.
“I wasn’t worried.”
“Maybe you should be,” they say, barely loud enough to hear, before taking off.
I don’t have time to respond as I’m flung backward by the sudden motion. I grasp Phantom’s shoulders and pull myself in close to keep from falling off.
Peppermint.
This close, they smell like freshly picked peppermint leaves. Without thinking, I lean in closer, closing my eyes and breathing deeply. Warmth stirs low in my belly and my eyes snap open. I push away, putting some much-needed space between us. I’m used to the movement and speed of the bike now. There’s no longer a reason for me to be so close. But when the scent of peppermint disappears from my nose, I frown.
We don’t talk while we ride, so I watch as the small town ofRockrose passes us by. Kids play noisily on a jungle gym in the park. Couples walk their dogs. People impatiently drive home from work. It’s mundane, but there’s a quiet beauty in it, in routine and simplicity.
Eventually, we approach a thick, lush forest at the edge of town.
“Watch out for low-hanging branches,” Phantom warns over their shoulder.
I dodge a few as we continue on through the trees. The ride grows bumpy and winding as we weave, avoiding large roots and rocks. After a short ride, Phantom slows down as the trees grow sparser. When they stop, we dismount and lean the bike up against the trunk of a large tree. Phantom frees my tote from its binds and motions for me to follow them.
“Where are we?” I ask as I readjust the strap of my backpack on my shoulder.
“The first time we met, I told you the dorm roof was one of my favorite places to paint,” Phantom reminds me. “This is another one.”
I duck beneath a branch as thewhooshof rushing water meets my ears. We come upon a small clearing atop a short cliff overlooking a full, fast-flowing river. In the middle of the clearing, we find two easels and stools already set up and ready for us to use.
“We have about two hours of sunlight left,” Phantom remarks as they sit on one of the stools. “We’d better make the most of it.”
“Okay,” I agree as I stand next to the other. Glancing around the forest, I take in the golden light breaking through the tree tops and reflecting off the rushing water. “I see why you like this place. How did you find it?”
“By accident.”
“Hm,” I remark with a chuckle, still eyeing the beauty all around me. “Lucky you.”
When I can finally return my attention to the task at hand, I step into my yellow coveralls, asking, “What are you painting?”The bright cloth is covered in years’ worth of paint stains and is getting ratty with near-daily use, so I zip myself in quickly, hoping Phantom doesn’t study them too closely.
My wish doesn’t come true. As they go to answer my question, they peer around their canvas at me and laugh. Phantom actually laughs—no, wait—more like they released an amused breath, but still. It’s the first time I’ve heard them make a noise anywhere close like that. The sound is sweet as honey.
“What’s so funny?” I ask defensively. “Clothes are expensive and I don’t want to risk ruining them.”
Their eyes flash with amusement before they return their gaze to their canvas and answer my original question. “I’m painting what I see before me.”
I nod, studying the treetops again.
“And you?” they ask.
I look around aimlessly. “To be honest, I have no idea.”
“You haven’t been feeling inspired lately.” The tone of their voice makes it sound more like a statement than a question, but I answer it like one.
“No, I haven’t.”
Their gaze falls on me again, the weight of it heavy and comforting. “Let’s change that.”
I laugh, the sound hollow as I fidget with the fraying cuff of my coveralls. “Yeah, right. Like it’s that easy.”
“You’re the only one standing in your way now, Maeve. And you’re right. Sometimes it isn’t easy. Come, sit, and think for a moment.”
Though my eyes roll a little, I silently relent and do as they ask, dropping to sit on the second stool.
