Chapter 7: Chapter 7

When I turn to walk out the door, I spot someone else outside. A guy, quite a bit younger than Viggo by the looks of him, maybe in his late twenties.

I frown. When did he get here? I didn’t hear a car. Was I that focused on my host that I missed the sound of an approaching vehicle? Being this inattentive is something that definitely will see me eaten by bears if the Internet was wrong about the bear population in this part of the country.

The visiting guy steps close to Viggo. Closer than two straight guys would stand in polite society.

“Figures,” I grumble under my breath. Of course, a nice guy like Viggo is taken. I can’t even be happy he’s obviously into guys when he’s unavailable.

Oh, well. That’s life.

I put on my backpack, pick up the overflowing mushroom basket, and step outside.

The newcomer is standing even closer to Viggo now, one hand resting on Viggo’s chest. But Viggo’s narrowed eyes and scrunched up forehead tells me he’s not all that happy about it.