Chapter 27 Noelle
Noelle
“Get…in there!”
I stood outside the shop with Milo, the two of us watching as Shane stuffed a cooler into the back of his beat-up Honda like it had personally wronged him.
He was almost completely packed—flush with all the Gloamstrider merch he’d been able to scrounge up since we got back from our camping trip, plus a few protective wards from Delilah he only half-believed in—and the cooler was the last thing.
Unfortunately, I didn’t think it was coming with him, unless he offloaded some stuff.
“You’re not gonna fit that in there,” I said, ever helpful.
“I will if I bend the laws of physics,” he muttered. He slammed the hatch, only for it to bounce back open again. “Son of a—”
I bit back a smile.
Milo huffed beside me, like even he was tired of watching this happen. Beau was inside finishing dishes, and the house was too quiet without Shane’s nonsense bouncing off the walls. I hadn’t realized how much space he took up until he started loading it all into a car.
“You sure you have to leave today?” I asked.
Shane straightened, dragging a hand through his hair. He looked sunburned and sleepy and a little less like a cryptid hunter and more like my best friend again.
“I’ve already extended my trip three times,” he said. “If I stay any longer, I’m legally a resident.”
“We’ll see if you even make it past the county line,” I say. “People keep saying that if Willow Grove chooses you, it’ll turn you right back around…and I could’ve sworn I saw you making eyes at Ash the other night at Mabel’s.”
Shane rolled his eyes. “Ash is straight, Noelle.”
I shrugged. “As if that’s ever stopped you before.”
He barked out a laugh, then wiped a hand down his face like he could scrub the blush off his cheeks. “You’re not going to trick me into joining your cult by getting me dick-drunk on some good southern boy.”
“We’ll see.”
He shook his head and leaned against the bumper, arms crossed like he was trying not to look sentimental. But I could tell it was creeping in anyway—that slouch of goodbye in his shoulders, the quiet click of everything settling. I hated it.
“I should be happy for you,” he said finally. “You’ve got this whole…life now. House, man, baby on the way—”
I froze. “Wait, what?”
Shane blinked. “What?”
“What baby?”
He stared at me, going pale. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Shit.”
“Shane.”
“I—Delilah said something about a ring and a vibe and she implied—I swear to god, I thought you knew.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Do I look pregnant to you?”
“The biscuits may or may not have gone to your ass.”
I lunged at him. He yelped, dodging behind the car with a laugh.
“Kidding! Kidding! I’m just saying—you’ve got your shit figured out. And that’s weird, Noelle. You were always the flight risk.”
I stopped short, hand still half-raised. “Yeah. I was.”
“And seeing a super fucking creepy monster in the woods cured you of that.”
I laughed, posture melting. “I don’t think it was the monster.”
“Then it was the dickdown?”
I snorted. “No, Shane. It was that…I just realized that the thing that was chasing me was a friend.”
“The ghost cat?”
I shook my head. “I guess. The ghost cat…trauma. Death. And now it’s a friend.”
Shane peered at me. “Morbid.”
“Mmhm.”
He looked at me for a second, brows drawn like he wanted to say something real but wasn’t sure if I could handle it. I waited.
“You scared the shit out of me,” he finally said.
“You know—ever since college, I’ve been the one watching your back.
You were always flighty and scared with everyone but me, and then you just drop off the face of the earth and land in this backwoods town…
and for a hot second, I seriously thought you’d joined a cult. Or…or worse.”
The or worse hit hard. I swallowed, throat tightening. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said. “Because then, of course, I show up here and you’re happy. You’ve got this stupid hot mechanic head over heels for you, a whole family. And it was like you just didn’t need me anymore.”
I stepped closer, letting the words settle between us. “That’s not true.”
He didn’t look at me. Just kept staring down at his car like it might suddenly swallow him whole.
“This whole time, I thought I was your emotional support animal,” he said. “Maybe you were mine, and I just…” He choked out a breath. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you.”
I reached out and touched his arm, squeezing gently. “Shane,” I said. “Look at me.”
He looked up. He was fucking crying—the bastard—and it made me cry too.
“I’m not dead or anything,” I said. “You can of course come back to visit. And we’re still doing this biweekly show, and you’re not getting rid of me that easy, okay?”
He laughed through a sniffle, swiping at his eyes like he could erase the whole moment. “Why is that making me cry more?”
“Because we’re best friends and you’ll be so very lonely without me…?”
“God, you’re such an asshole.”
I grinned, wiping at my own eyes. “Takes one to know one.”
Milo, clearly sensing the emotional peak of the moment, got up from his spot and trotted over to Shane. He nudged his head under Shane’s hand, tail wagging. Shane gave a wet chuckle and knelt to scratch behind Milo’s ears.
“I’m gonna miss you too, you sweet bastard,” he muttered. “Don’t let her gaslight you into thinking she’s in charge.”
Milo leaned in harder, like he understood. He probably did.
The screen door creaked behind me. I turned to see Beau step out, drying his hands on a dishtowel, his eyes landing on us.
“Y’all cryin’ out here?” he asked.
“No,” Shane said instantly.
“Yes,” I said at the same time.
Beau’s mouth twitched, biting back a smile. He came to stand beside me and slipped an arm around my waist. I leaned into him without thinking, comforted by the warmth and weight of him at my side.
“You done packin’?” he asked Shane.
Shane stood up, brushing gravel off his jeans. “More or less. The cooler’s a lost cause. I’m gonna have to sacrifice a few t-shirts to make it fit.”
“You want help?” Beau asked.
Shane hesitated. “Nah. If I let you fix it, I’ll never learn.”
Beau nodded like that was fair.
There was a beat of silence, not awkward, just full. Full of everything that had been said and everything that hadn’t. The wind picked up, rustling the trees, sending a few dry leaves skittering down the drive.
“Well,” Shane said. “Guess this is it.”
“Guess so,” I murmured.
He looked at me one last time. Then he leaned in and hugged me again, tighter than before.
“I love you, Noelle,” he said into my hair. “Always will.”
“I love you too, Shane.”
He pulled back, gave Milo one more pat, and offered Beau a firm handshake—more than a handshake, really.
“You take care of her,” Shane said. “And if you suddenly switch sides and decide Noelle isn’t your type anymore…I’d better be the first person you call.”
Beau let out a quiet laugh. “Noted.”
Shane nodded solemnly, then turned back to the car and gave the back hatch one final shove. Miraculously, it stayed closed this time. He looked up at me, almost sheepish.
“You’ll call if anything weird happens?” he asked.
I tilted my head. “So…like tomorrow?”
He grinned. “Fair. Just…don’t forget about me.”
“Never could,” I said. “You’re my favorite pain in the ass.”
“And you’re mine.”
He opened the driver’s side door and paused, his hand on the frame like he wasn’t quite ready to cross that threshold yet.
“Hey,” he said. “Thanks for letting me stay. For not making me feel like the third wheel in your domestic little cryptid love nest.”
Beau snorted. “You were the third wheel. But like…a really fun third wheel. One of those little light-up ones that makes the whole ride cooler.”
I didn’t say anything right away. I just looked at him—this man who’d been with me through everything, who’d loved me when I didn’t know how to love myself, who’d dragged me out of more emotional ditches than I could count.
Who flew halfway across the country to make sure I was still breathing and hadn’t joined a cult.
Still my best friend.
Still my co-host.
But even so…I was going to miss the hell out of him until he finally figured out he belonged here too.
“You were never the third wheel,” I said. “You were part of the ride.”
Shane blinked fast, mouth twitching like he didn’t know whether to grin or cry again. Then he just nodded and ducked into the car before either of us said something else embarrassing.
The engine sputtered, then kicked to life. Milo gave one short bark, and Shane stuck his hand out the window, fingers fluttering a wave. He pulled out of the driveway slow, tires crunching over gravel, dust curling behind him.
Beau and I stood there until the car disappeared around the bend. Only then did he lean down and kiss the top of my head.
“You alright?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “I just…needed that to be sad for a minute.”
Beau’s arm slid tighter around my waist. “Sad’s fine. You loved him. Still do. That don’t go away just ‘cause you’ve got me.”
I looked up at him, eyes glassy. “I do have you.”
“Damn right you do.”
He kissed me again, and this time I let it linger.
The wind picked up, a soft hush through the trees. Milo nosed at the door like he was ready for breakfast, and I realized—I was too. Ready for all of it. The quiet. The coffee. The new stretch of life ahead.
“Come on,” Beau said, tugging me toward the house. “Let’s get you fed before you start weepin’ into the eggs.”
“You say that like it hasn’t happened before.”
He grinned. “Yeah, but last time was ‘cause of the ghost possum dream, and I’m tryin’ to beat your track record.”
We stepped inside, Milo padding after us. And I thought, maybe, I didn’t need to outrun anything anymore. Not death. Not grief. Not love. Maybe this town had caught me for a reason.
Maybe it was time to stay caught.