Page 84 of The Leaving Kind

Cam chuckled. “No and I think he might be having a friend over.” He frowned again. “He made a point of asking if I was coming home tonight, so ...”

“Maybe he wants to fart in peace. Or watch something other than Star Trek.”

“Hey, now. That’s quality television.”

Victor hooked his arm through Cam’s. “Show me what you’ve done with the path.”

Together, they crossed the driveway, circling the lichen-covered fountain at the center. The gap in the trees on the other side still surprised a little. Victor was so used to seeing skeleton limbs from the dead tree poking above the canopy. Clearing that and the tree next door had left a good-sized space for the top of the path, and he looked forward to planting a few perennials there later in the fall. The rhododendron he’d imagined, which would provide a nice splash of color in the spring and early summer. And some bulbs, maybe, though chipmunks would probably eat most of them before they had a chance to sprout.

From the clearing, the path angled away from the driveway into the first gentle turn. The second turn was a little sharper. The path continued to switch back and forth down the slope until it spilled out by the mailbox. Victor could see all of it from the top of the hill, including the frame for the first three turns, and something new.

“What’s this?” he asked, jumping onto the shallow steps connecting the first and second loops.

Cam climbed down to stand beside him. “In winter, you’ll want to follow the path. Or when it’s snowy or slippery. But right now? If you were in a hurry, you could use these steps and cut out the curves. I’ll put another set between each switchback on this side.” He smiled. “I mean, the driveway would get you there faster, but I had the extra wood. And I figured someone always wants to cut corners anyway.”

“It’s brilliant. I love it.” Victor punctuated his statements with kisses, grateful for the lighter moment. Cam was all too adorable when he got excited about his work.

From below the top, Victor surveyed the path again, the sweeping curves of the main project and the steps in between, and nodded with satisfaction. Even before they filled the frame with dirt and gravel, he could picture the end result. Could already imagine the forest growing back in to surround it and the small joy he’d feel taking this way down to the street. It would be his road less traveled. His outdoor break.

He’d think of Cam every trip.

Stop that.

Cam was looking at him.

“What?” Victor asked.

“You want to go out?”

Victor frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Like, to eat. Or for a drink. Out, out.”

“A date?”

Complicated feelings flitted through Cam’s eyes but he nodded.

“I thought we weren’t doing that. We’re friends who fuck.”

Cam winced. Licked his lips. “I figured it might be fun. To go out. Together. As friends.”

Victor looked away, his own emotions beginning to feel complicated.

Beside him, Cam shuffled, his unlaced boots scuffing against the dirt. Then, with a puff of breath, he climbed the steps and started back toward the driveway, leaving Victor standing alone in the woods.

Victor scrambled up the hill after him. “Cam.”

“Just gonna grab Honey.” Cam crossed the driveway, kicked his boots off outside the front door, and disappeared inside.

A part of Victor wanted to let him go. It would be easier to let this moment ebb rather than have it break the relationship they were building. A greater part wanted to fix the misunderstanding. If he let Cam go now, it would affect their friendship. He had no doubt Cam would finish the job on the front path and that he’d do spectacular work. But Victor’s joy would fizzle and pop. He would hate the path.

You’re going after him to save a damn pathway?

Cam reappeared in the doorway, Honey in his arms. He wore a stoic expression but managed a sort-of smile. “I’m doing a market for Ollie and Gray tomorrow. Sunday, my niece is coming for dinner, so, ah, I’ll be back Monday—no, probably Tuesday to finish out the framing. I forgot we’ve got two lawn jobs on Monday afternoon.”

“Cam.”

“I’ll call you if my plans change.” Cam had shoved his feet back into his now-loose boots and was clumping toward his truck.