Page 33 of Cocoa

A replay of the Midnight Mysteries episode that lured Ryder and Lucas down that desolate road played through the speakers. They’d been lounging in bed after a delicious bout of frotting and listening to the show. When the presenter mentioned a town about forty-five minutes from home, they both agreed to check it out immediately.

“I still say the janitor didn’t fall by accident,” Lucas said as they eased past a dropping pine bough. “Too many weird details.”

“The ghost of a murdered patient? What’s weird about that?” Ryder’s smile curled his mustache at the corners.

Lucas chuckled. “The fire was just a cover up. That was obvious enough, and really handy how the other eyewitness happened to die in it.”

“The host said they were cutting a lot of corners. The place was super rundown, and you know hospitals like that are full of horrific stories and unsettled spirits.”

Cradling his camera case on his lap, Lucas tipped his head to peer down the dark road. The hulking structure, half burned and half crumbled to the ground, came into view. “Well, if there are any, we’re going to get pictures of them.”

Ryder pulled the truck to a stop near what appeared to be a doorway into the building. It was hard to tell with the destruction and the overgrowth, now denude of leaves in the deep winter. They’d talked about the podcast enough to know neither of them really believed that ghosts lurked in every shadow. Healthy skepticism made sense, but the secret exploration of spooky old buildings was fun, anyway.

With his phone flashlight trained on the ground so they wouldn’t trip over rubble, Ryder led the way into what looked like a lobby. A few chairs still sat there in dusty rows, and the built-in desk stood by the far wall. “At least there won’t be spiders and rats everywhere,” he muttered. “Too cold.”

Lucas paused to take a picture through the open door before he followed him inside. He moved around the place quietly, snapping shots here and there from different angles. “Good thing it’s a bright night,” he said.

There were signs others had investigated the place before or, more accurately, used it as a party spot. Beer cans and liquor bottles sat on one of the low tables, and random spray-painted words and symbols covered the wall nearby. A hot pink vape pen sat next to a cast-off sock.

A metal door stood next to the front desk, and Ryder pushed on it with one gloved hand. The rusted hinges grated and groaned as it opened. The long hall behind sat still and creepy with dirty tiles on the floor and cobweb-covered light fixtures overhead. “Creepy enough for you?”

Lucas’s camera clicked in response. “Perfect.”

Someone had spray-painted a giant eyeball across the right wall with the words “They’re always watching” beneath it. Further on, there was another piece of artwork, a green dick next to a cartoon face with a huge grin. Ryder and Lucas shared a chuckle and pushed on deeper into the building.

Lucas snapped photo after photo of old signs and doorways, half-collapsed corridors, and crumbling stairwells. He took some shots of the graffiti, too. Just inside a larger room, he called out to Ryder, who was staring at a bulletin board that still held a few faded pieces of paper. “Hey, stand by that archway.”

Ryder turned around. “Why?”

“Because the light’s catching it just right.” The moonlight through the high windows sent surprisingly bright beams through the still air.

Ryder leaned against the arch, his hands shoved in the pockets of his coat, as Lucas got in position and raised his camera. For the next, the flashlight glowed toward his face.

“Try not to squint.” He took more pictures, shifted the light, and moved closer.

“You’re blinding me. What are you doing?”

Lucas smiled around the edge of his camera. “Taking pictures of you.”

Shaking his head, Ryder shot him a look. “I thought you were supposed to be taking ghost pictures.”

“Oh, yeah.” The mock innocence in his words made Ryder laugh, but he stopped with the photo shoot, and they resumed their exploration of the ruins. From time to time, they stopped to look at another interesting feature, and Lucas asked Ryder to stand by them. He kept finding new ways to photograph him silhouetted against broken windows, near a half-collapsed wall, and even leaning beside a broken sink in what looked like a laboratory.

“Luc, I think you’re doing this ghost hunting thing all wrong,” Ryder said after catching his man taking a quick shot of his ass when he bent over to pick up a dented metal dish.

“Not my fault,” he replied and took another photo as he stepped closer. “I can’t help it if you have a perfect face.”

“That wasn’t a picture of my face.” Ryder closed the gap between them, carefully eased the camera aside, and slung his arms around Lucas. His gloved hands slipped past the hem of his jacket and squeezed.

Their breath fogged between them in the cold air. Ryder couldn’t help but smile before he leaned in to press his chilly lips to Lucas’s own. They melted together, the kiss deepening to something hungry and a little wild. He couldn’t feel enough through the thick coats, so he took what he could.

Lucas’s fingers found the collar of his coat and then pushed through his beard before settling on the back of his neck, holding him tightly as the kiss went on and on. He let himself get maneuvered backward until his shoulders hit the cinderblock wall.

Pulling back to brush his whiskers across Lucas’s smooth jaw for a moment, Ryder asked, “Do you think the ghosts would show up if I dropped to my knees right here and—” His voice cut off, and he pulled back suddenly, eyes narrow and jaw tight.

“What?” Lucas began, but Ryder shushed him.

A muffled thump and a strange cry sounded from somewhere far away in the building. “Shit, did you hear that?” Lucas’s voice was barely a whisper against Ryder’s cheek.

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