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“You can ride with us or you can ride with Daniel,” Dad tells him, already in the driver’s seat as my mom climbs in next to him.

Quinn glances at me.

“You’re with me,” I say, before he has to make a choice in front of them. And because what do you mean my parents are trying to steal my boyfriend.

Uh..not boyfriend, I correct instantly.

“We’ll meet you there.”

He climbs into the passenger seat of the old Jeep my mom drives. I glance over at him, he still has the hoodie on under his jacket, the hood sticking out of the collar. He tugs it up over his head and shivers. My gaze catches on a grass stain I know I got when my brother tackled me into the ground last summer, and I know it’s my hoodie. A smile tugs at my lips, but I don’t call him out.

It makes me oddly possessive, knowing he’s in my clothing without me asking him to be.

I start the Jeep before he catches me staring. The heater takes a minute. He holds his gloved hands in front of the vent and doesn’t talk, which is fine. If I talk, I’m going to say something about the hoodie or the word I just had to put back in its box, and neither of those belong in my mom’s car.

Downtown’s already set up and bustling in the good way. Barricades are set up. Somebody near the stage testing the sound system. Kids in Santa hats playing in the snow. The tree is up in the square, still dark, wrapped in enough wire that it will be bright enough to land a plane when it’s lit. I back into a spot as close as I’m allowed, and we start hauling the stuff in the back of the Jeep to the booth.

Quinn doesn’t wait to be asked to help. He takes the other end of the table when I start to pull it out of the truck. We carry it over and set it up. Some lady comes up and asks about the flavor of brownies this year, and Quinn is the one to answer her. And when she asks him again, he repeats the list slower this time. She nods and says she’ll be back when we are set up. He just fits in with us.

“Your friend is a keeper,” my mom whispers.

“Yeah,” I say. My voice comes out rough. “He is.”

By noon, the booth is standing. Cocoa on. Pies warming under heat lamps. Mom is ready in her apron. Dad vanished toward the hardware store, because it’s probably his favorite place. And my brother, Bryson, is still running late as always.

As soon as I think that, I see him heading down the street with our cousin Leo next to him. They stop and chat on the way, which means we will be waiting another five minutes for no reason except that Bryson can’t walk past a person he knows.

“That’s my brother,” I tell Quinn. “The other one is Leo, he’s my cousin. He fixes half the town’s issues and still shows up to help my mom out every year.”

Quinn follows my gaze. “They look alike.”

“Don’t tell Bryson. He spent high school trying not to look like Leo.”

They reach the booth and Bryson grabs me in a one-arm hug that’s more of a shove and then looks straight at Quinn.

“You must be the roommate.”

“Quinn,” Quinn says.

“Right. Quinn, well, Mom’s been texting me since yesterday. Fair warning, she already likes you more than she likes me.” Bryson grins. He turns his attention back to Leo, who has distracted himself by straightening out an extension cord muttering something about one of us tripping on it. “Leo, are we doing the first or second shift with the booth today?”

He glances up. “Second.”

“Great. We’ll be back. See you later, loser,” he says to me as he tries to ruffle my hair, and I dodge his hand with a laugh.

Leo snorts and straightens. He holds out his hand to Quinn. “I’m Leo. And this one is Daniel’s brother, Bryson, he’s not normally rude.”

Quinn takes his hand without hesitation and shakes it. “I know. Daniel pointed you two out.”

He chuckles, the corner of his mouth ticking up. He glances at me, and I know that look. That’s the oh look. He’s clocked my feelings as quickly as the first time I brought a guy around and tried to pretend they were just a friend. He doesn’t say anything. Thank God.

“Good to meet you,” he tells Quinn. Then he knocks my shoulder on his way around the table. “Hate to run but I promised Pastor Miller I would help him set up the church basement for the craft show happening tomorrow. I’ll be back later.”

Bryson is already disappearing back down the street with a cookie he stole. Leo follows after a last look at the cord, because he can’t leave a trip hazard even when he’s not working the booth. The square keeps filling up. When my dad comes back and one of the ladies, Mrs Harper, shows up, she insists that Quinn and I go explore.

She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I lead Quinn away before he starts trying to help some more.

When we are far enough away from my family that they can’t hear us, I ask, “You good?”