Page 65 of My Rival for Christmas

“I got you covered on the meals.” A look crosses Nate’s face, but before I can decipher what it is, he turns around to check on whatever he’s cooking on the stove. Giving it a quick stir with the spatula. “But I’m afraid you might have to suffer through me singing a plethora of Christmas carols tomorrow, in between us watchingNational Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.I have traditions to uphold.”

“I think I’m actually going to be sick tomorrow, so if we can reschedule that for next to never.”

I wait for his turn in our little game, but instead he stares at me like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to work out.

My shoulders pull back slightly as I force myself to move in the direction of the kitchen, to the small counter that separates the space from the living room and settle into one of the two stools underneath.

Nate slides a cup of hot chocolate loaded up with the correct amount of marshmallows—enough to cover the entire circumference of the top, no liquid in sight—across the counter to me, then asking, “What about you? How did the call with your brother go?”

Like his smile, his question is cautious. Like he’s still testing the waters of where we stand. But Nate does give me an appreciative look, seeing that I’ve thrown on his Sugar Peak Resort hoodie over my leggings from yesterday. The thing swallows me even more than the clothes I slept in, but it’s much warmer than the shirt I came here in. And it smells like him.

Part of me wants to go over and kiss him, to ease his apparent worries.

But I don’t.

If only so I can feel a little more stable on this new ground we’re treading first.

“Oh, you know, Austin’s just being Austin,” I say, ignoring the subtle pinch in my chest, trying to forget my brother’s face as I updated him on the most recent weather report. “He sends his worst wishes to you, by the way.”

Austin hates Nate like any older brother would hate a boy that made his little sister cry—with a loathing that can rival a thousand burning suns. On our call, he kept talking about how I should stab Nate with an ice pick. So, it’s not the most ideal situation for my brother to find me in.

Not to mention, I just know he knew my untamed hair wasn’t only from sleeping. It’s probably why he was extra surly on the call.

“Funny, because my dad sends his best to you.” Nate laughs, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. He’s probably the only person not ranked very high on my brother’s favorites list who is not put off by Austin’s aggressive nature.

Again, I would like to reiterate, Nate lacks self-preservation skills.

“So, Austin’s handling you being suck here with me as well as expected, then.” Half turned to me now, Nate gives the pan a little shake.

“Well, enough that he talked about hiring a helicopter to come rescue me,” I confirm, stretching up in my seat to see what he’s cooking. But his large body blocks my view.

“Oh. So he’s only at DEFCON Three.” Nate inspects the food, before nodding his head at it. Must be to his liking. “What about Kylie? Did you get in touch with her?”

I nod, watching as he grabs two plates from the cabinet. “Yeah, finally.”

Whether from the remote location or the weather, I wasn’t sure if the texts I sent Austin and Kylie went through yesterday, but almost right after Nate’s phone started going off with alerts, my phone started vibrating with dozens of messages. All from Austin and Kylie. “She feels so bad she’s leaving this afternoon, but I told her there’s no point in missing her flight when she’s fine to leave. Especially when her family goes all out for Christmas.”

Apparently, it’s only those of us further up the mountain that are being told to stay where we are because of how much ice is covering the roads here. The actual town of Sugar Peak and the resort are more or less fine.

“I just told her to leave my luggage at the concierge to pick up when it’s finally safe for us to leave.” I fold one leg into the chair, then the other so I’m sitting crisscrossed.

“I’m sorry.” Putting the plates on the counter, Nate rubs the back of his neck. “About bringing you up here. If I knew we’d be trapped here past last night, I wouldn’t have even suggested it. ”

Yesterday’s Paige would be furious to be trapped here with Nate, would’ve relished in his apology, might’ve even rubbed it in about how he doesn’t think about the consequences of his actions.

This new and improved, cabin fever-inflicted Paige, however? She’s not ready to return to reality just yet. Not readyfor all the problems she came here to get away from to catch back up to her.

But I still think of my brother and niece, and the traditions we’ve built around her that I’ll be missing. And it does make me sad to know that I won’t get to see Clover’s face when she sees what Santa got off her list—spoiler, my brother got everything she wrote down on her two full pages. Front and back.

But hopefully we can leave in time for me to make it to Austin’s game before I have to go home. It’s my favorite part of the holiday week, anyway.

…I really am kind of a scrooge, aren’t I?

To me, a holiday is just another calendar day. What makes any day special is the people you surround yourself with. So as long as I get to see my family at some point during this break, I’ll be happy.

“I guess you’ll just have to work on not annoying me for however long we’re up here. Austin went into great detail about how to use an ice pick as a weapon. I feel like I have so much knowledge I could test out.”

“I guess we now know who the real murderer in the house is.” Nate starts to shovel some of the food from the skillet onto a plate, and my stomach quietly gargles at the sight. Shredded hash browns—my favorite. Then he puts pancakes he stashed in the microwave and bacon he’s kept warm in the oven onto the plate as well.

---