Chapter
Eleven
OREN
Igrab the scavenger hunt list and glance at the other Littles pairing off. Lane and Theo are already bickering over which path to take, and Timmy is clinging to some overly enthusiastic counselor.
“Uh… can I pair with you?” I ask Keane, trying to sound casual but failing spectacularly. My palms are sweaty, and I feel as if I’m twelve, asking someone to dance.
He raises an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You sure you want to pair with me? Not that I’m offended if you’d rather… strategize with your friends.”
I shrug, heart thudding. “I… I don’t care about winning. I just want to spend time with you.”
Keane’s lips twitch in that familiar half-grin. “Fair enough. Let’s see what the woods have to offer.”
We start down a winding trail, and I notice how easy it feels to walk beside him. His presence is solid, quiet, somehow grounding in a way I didn’t expect. I glance at him.
“So… do you come to the woods often?”
He chuckles. “Hardly ever. I can handle a city sidewalk just fine. You?”
I frown. “Not really. Except for backyard camping when I was a kid… or those little adventures I sneak into my stories.” I trail off, suddenly shy.
“Stories?” He looks at me with interest. “I’d love to know more about what you write.”
I nod. “Mostly Hedgehog’s adventures, snack stashes, silly things. Makes me feel… little, I guess. In a good way.”
Keane hums. “I can see that. It suits you.” His glance lingers just a little too long, and I feel a flutter in my stomach.
We pause at a hollow log covered in a patchwork of moss. “Think anything could be hiding in there?” I ask, kneeling beside him.
He leans over and peers inside. “Hmm. Maybe. Depends if you’re looking for pinecones or magic treasures.”
I giggle. “Magic treasures are better. Less messy and pinchy than pinecones.”
He laughs quietly, shaking his head. “I don’t know… pinecones have their charm.”
I bump him gently with my shoulder. “Charm, huh? You mean like your charm?”
Keane freezes just slightly, then shakes his head. “Maybe. But I’m not the one running around with sticky fingers and glitter on my hands.”
“Sticky fingers are fun!” I argue. “Glitter is basically nature’s confetti.”
He smirks. “Nature’s confetti, huh? I’ll allow it—for now.”
As we move deeper into the woods, our hands brush a few times, lightly, accidentally—or not—and I feel my heart race.
“So… what did you do before this weekend? Work stuff?”
He nods. “Yeah. Casework for a defendant.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Your job sounds… intense. Doesn’t seem like you’d have time for… this.”
He shrugs, eyes on the trail. “It’s a different world. But being here… with you—it’s easy to step out of it for a while.”
I feel heat gather in my chest. “With me?” I murmur.
“Yeah. You make it easy,” he admits softly. “I like being around you. Reminds me that there are more important things in life than work”
