“It’s so cute,” I blurt before I can stop myself.
Miguel snorts. “Cute?”
“Yeah,” I say, grinning at him. “Like... Movie cute. You know, a cozy couple trapped in a snowstorm, kind of cute.”
He raises a brow, still half-smiling. “You planning on getting us trapped?”
“Depends on how the weekend goes.”
He huffs a laugh, shaking his head as he climbs out. The cold hits hard when I open my door, biting at my face, but it smells clean—fresh pine and wood smoke. By the time I grab our bags, Miguel’s already at the tailgate, hauling out a cooler and three big Tupperware containers.
I squint. “Please tell me that’s not all food.”
“It’s food,” he says matter-of-factly, stacking them in his arms. “Mom made tamales, birria, arroz, champurrado—everything.”
I blink. “You… brought Christmas dinner?”
He shrugs, not even pretending to be embarrassed. “You thought I was just gonna let us starve out here? Of course I brought food. Even popcorn for movies.”
Inside, the cabin’s even warmer than it looks from the outside—thick beams, a stone fireplace, and big windows looking out over the white forest. He sets the food on the counter while I drop our bags near the stairs.
“Mom really went all out,” I say, watching him start to unpack the cooler, his movements easy and familiar. “Guess she wasn’t too upset we wouldn’t be home.”
“Nah, she said we deserve a break,” Miguel says, opening the fridge. “To get away for a little bit. Especially you.”
“Yeah,” I murmur. “Dad didn’t exactly say that. Pretty sure he’s still annoyed that we’re not gonna be there Christmas morning.”
“I just don’t understand why you need to go away for Christmas. The holidays are about family, Caleb, not for you and Miggy to go up to the mountains and what, get stoned and watch movies?”
Miguel glances at me over his shoulder, mouth twitching because he sees me lost in my head. “He’ll live.”
He’d shit bricks if he knew what was really gonna go down here. I’m pretty sure his son and stepson fucking each other isn’t on that list.
I lean against the counter, crossing my arms. “Your mom didn’t even blink when you said we’d be spending Christmas together. You know anything about that?”
Miguel closes the fridge slowly and turns toward me. “Nope.” His right eyebrow rises slightly.
Liar, liar.
I narrow my eyes. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?”
“You are,” I say, stepping closer. “Did you tell her… that we’ve been… I dunno, talking more?”
His smile deepens, smug and secretive. “I haven’t said anything. Maybe she just trusts me to make good decisions.”
“Uh-huh.” I tilt my head. “Like bringing your stepbrother to a cabin alone in the snow?”
He smirks. “Best decision I’ve made all year. Well, except for chasing you on Halloween, then fucking your brains out.”
He went there.
The words hang there between us, sharp and warm. I look away first, pretending to check the window, the snow starting to come down heavier.
“Oh, and then sucking your dick in the corn maze.”
“Alright,” I turn around, ready to pounce on him to get him to stop talking.
