With anyone else.
The fire’sglow flickers across the cabin walls, and for a moment, we just lie there, tangled together, breathing hard. My chest rises and falls against his, the scent of him—sandalwood, citrus, and that faint hint of marijuana—clinging to me in a way that makes it impossible to let go.
I stole one of his shirts the last time I was at his condo, and I sleep with it every night I’m not with him.
Just so I can fall asleep with the scent of him.
Miguel’s hand slides up to stroke through my hair, slow and deliberate. “You okay?” he murmurs against my temple.
I nod, though I don’t trust my voice yet. “Yeah… yeah, I’m—just…” I’m lost for words.
I want him.
More like needing him inside of me again, but this, I love the closeness of this.
Touch-starved and desperate for intimacy, and that’s exactly what Miguel gives me.
He chuckles softly, low and warm, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You’re amazing, Caleb. You… you don’t even have to ask, baby.”
My stomach twists, and my heart flutters. “How do you know what I was gonna ask for?”
“I know you,” he says firmly, tilting my chin so I have to look at him. His eyes are soft now, not teasing, not challenging, just… him. “Whenever we’re together now, it’s always the same. I’ll give you everything, Caleb. Love, affection, touch, grounding. Whatever you need.”
I swallow, heat rising again—not from want this time, but from how raw and sincere he is. I tuck my face into his neck, resting there, letting the fire warm my skin and his heartbeat steady me.
He hums softly, rocking me against him like I’m something fragile he wants to protect. “God… you fit so perfectly right here,” he says, like he’s reminding me, but now it’s gentle, safe. He presses a kiss to my temple, then the corner of my mouth. “You were made just for me, Caleb. You were always supposed to be mine.”
Those words have a shiver running through me, not the urgent, needling kind from before, but the one that makes my chest swell and my lips curve into a smile I can’t hide. “I’m really glad I didn’t chicken out,” I whisper, softly this time. “Almost did, you know?”
Miguel’s hand slides down my arm to lace with mine, squeezing just enough to ground me. “I know, baby. But you were brave for me and here you are,” he murmurs, lips brushing my hair once more. “So brave.”
I nuzzle into him, wrapping an arm around his waist. The couch is warm beneath us, the fire casting a golden halo around our bodies, snow piling higher outside. For the first time in a long while, everything feels quiet in the right way, like we’re safe, like the world can’t touch us here.
“I could get used to this,” I murmur, voice barely audible.
Miguel hums, tilting his head so our foreheads meet. “Yeah,” he says. “That’s good ’cause I’m not letting you go.”
Does that scare me?
Yeah, a little bit.
But Miggy makes me feel… safe, too.
And that’s when the teasing starts again, soft and playful, our lips brushing, hands wandering. Not urgent this time, but lingering. Every touch is a promise, every kiss a reminder of what we have—fragile and thrilling—just a month and a half into whatever this is between us, still discovering every edge and curve.
We curl into each other like we belong here, in this tiny cabin, in this snowstorm, in this moment. Outside, the world disappears beneath the white, but inside, it’s just him, me, the fire, and the low hum of Christmas music weaving around us like it’s part of the spell.
I close my eyes, letting the warmth seep in, letting him hold me, letting myself finally exhale.
This is exactly where I’m supposed to be.
TWO
MIGUEL
The smellof warm champurrado still hangs in the cabin from me heating some up, and now I’m rummaging through the refrigerator, looking for something besides the massive Tupperware containers of tamales and birria. Christmas Eve Eve—or as Caleb keeps calling it, “Christmas Adam”—is the perfect excuse to dive into some of the snacks before the big meal on Christmas Day.
Mom made sure to help me plan for four days' worth of food, plus extra because growing boys are always hungry, so I probably overpacked.
