Page 24 of Haunt Me, Maybe

I shook my head. “It’s meddling.”

“Whatever it’s doing, it’s definitely judging us.”

I grimaced because she was right. It had us under a magnifying glass, monitoring our every breath and twitch. I bet it took pleasure in my internal panic, and it wasn’t like I could do anything about it. It had me by the balls. Figuratively speaking, of course.

“I refuse to be peer-pressured by agriculture,” I growled, making the maze lean again.

Aven swayed, reaching for me. I caught her elbow this time; that was a safe appendage, right? My hand held her a little firmer than necessary, my fingers curling around her sleeve, but it was better than before. Still, the contact pulled something taut inside me. My awareness sharpened, narrowing down to where we touched.

The maze hummed again. Pleased once more.

“Stop that,” I scolded. “You’re being bad. Very bad maze.”

The stalks shivered, stems swishing together in a sound much like laughter.

Aven’s mouth twitched. “I think it likes you.”

“Mazes don’t like people.”

“Apparently they do,” she snorted, and moved closer.

Not because the maze forced her to, but because…I wasn’t sure why. Her shoulder pressed against my arm, and her magic stirred. It was faint, like a deep ache, and illusions lightly flickered around us—golden leaves turned green, snowflakes fell over our heads and dusted the area around us without melting.

It was over before I could decide if I liked it or not, and the maze reacted immediately. Light filtered through the leaves in softer patterns, and a damn path opened before us like an invitation. It wasn’t very large, insulting in size really, but it was enough. For once, the maze wasn’t pushing us together.

It was rewarding us for our cooperation. For a job well done.

“Unbelievable,” I muttered. “It’s training us.”

Aven glanced over at me with a smirk. “Is it working?”

I opened my mouth to say no—and the ground tilted again. This time, there was no stumble, no time to shuffle our feet or misstep. The maze nudged us forward, forcing us to walk in sync. Shoulder to shoulder. We were so close that our arms grazed with every step, like little electric sparks of madness.

I clenched my jaw tight once more. It was either that or scream. God, I was going insane. Aven felt like static along my side. The corn parted for us as we moved, slow but steady, and behind us, it sealed shut as soon as her boots left an imprint in the earth.

“Great,” I scoffed. “We’re doing exactly what it wants.”

The tops of the stalks waved. A direct taunt. Damn sentient vegetation.

Aven exhaled slowly, her head tilted in a way I’d come to notice meant she was lost in thought. “I think it wants us to…trust one another.”

Of course it did. The maze fucking loved her. So did the café. So did all the townsfolk who met her.

“It’s a maze. Made of corn.”

“It’s also alive.”

I sighed. “So it seems.”

We kept walking until the path curved ahead of us. It opened and then tightened again but no longer shoved us against one another. It guided now, rather than trapped, obviously pleased with our proximity. Each time Aven drifted even a fraction away, the stalks pressed back in. When I consistently matched her pace, the leaves eased off.

I hated how quickly we learned the rules. I hated even more how a part of me didn’t mind. The part that wanted more of that spark. Up ahead, the path opened toward a brighter patch of sky, and the sounds of laughter and distant music punctured the compatible silence.

The exit was just out of reach.

Not one to let its fun end peacefully, the maze had one final trick. Thick roots rose to the surface of the path, swift and sneaky, causing Aven to trip right over them. Honestly, the girl needed to keep a better eye on her surroundings. Her arms pinwheeled, and her face would have met the ground had I not reached out and caught her. Again.

Reeling her in, her back fit perfectly against my front, and I tightened my hold on her waist in response. Aven stepped forward—just one step. And that was when I realized I didn’t want her to go. I felt her warmth through her sweater and the steady beat of her pulse beneath my palms.