The cabin was medium-sized, woodsy, and just gothic enough that it would look at home in a spooky Halloween book for kids. The wraparound porch had rails sticking out in all directions and broken steps leading up to the door.
“Did this house ever guest star inThe Addams Family?”
He laughed. “I was born in this house.”
I placed my hands on my hips. “I’m not staying here by myself.”
His eyebrows raised with decided interest, but before he could speak, I cut in. “And I’m not staying here with you either.” I pointed toward the cabin, which honestly looked less scary the second time, but still. “I can’t be here alone at night. I’d never get any sleep.”
He set my suitcase down on the snow, staving off his laughter. “You’ve got to stop talking. There are so many things I could—”
“Miles.”
“Just come and look inside. The outside needs fixed up a bit, but the inside is just your typical late-nineties, dated, over-decorated, wall-papered home, okay?”
I looked back over at the cabin. It was either this or the pull-out couch. Or Mom and Russ. “Fine.”
We climbed the rickety stairs to the porch. Miles unlocked the door, and it squeaked open, revealing a cozy, butternut-yellow-painted room with a plaid wall-papered border. Mismatched couches and loveseats of browns and plaids filled the small living room.
“Wow,” I said.
“Told ya.”
For some reason, I had to bite back a smile. Though the outside left much to the imagination, instantly the home inside felt so warm to me. My parents had had a similar plaid wallpaper in our downstairs living room when I was in grade school, and memories of our home came flooding back. The cabin was small and tidy but cluttered with pictures of moose and bears, and there were knick-knacks everywhere. I took a step inside. Against the back wall was a small oak kitchen with an island covered in a brown, marbled Formica sitting between the two rooms. A hallway jetted to the left and looked like it housed a couple of bedrooms and a bathroom.
“Change your mind?”
“Yeah.”
He walked in behind me, set the luggage down, and closed the door. Immediately, he began tinkering with the wood fireplace. There was a small fire already going, but he removed the gate and tossed more sticks inside. A minute later, the fire had cast a cozy orange glow about the room. He stood up, brushed his hands off, and turned around to meet my gaze.
“Thanks,” I said, suddenly feeling shy. The cabin felt so small with him inside, much like how my classroom did whenever he felt the need to torture me with a visit. Which reminded me that I had a few things to discuss with him about our wholearrangement.
“Alright,” I started. “We obviously need to set some ground rules.”
“For what?”
“Fake dating.”
“Why?”
He had a small smile on his face, which meant he was very much trying to goad me.
“Because I’d hate for you to fall in love with me.”
“Such a cliche.” He moved toward the island in the kitchen and leapt backward to sit on top. His legs dangled from the side as he leaned back on his hands casually. “I can’t wait to hear your terms.”
I walked a few steps forward, closer to him, but not too close, and leaned against a wall. For some reason, I needed to feel tall with him in the room, which was why I didn’t choose to sit just yet.
“Number one. No unnecessary touching. Obviously.” I ticked the rule off with my finger, ready to add another when his voice stopped me.
“Nope.”
My startled eyes flew to his. “What?”
A tiny smile quirked at the side of his mouth. “Veto. I disagree.”
My brow furrowed in confusion. “No…that’s…not up for debate. No unnecessary touching.”