Page 102 of Hey, Stepbro

Brock's eyes take on a distant look. "Well, my dads and I used to go skiing up by Lake Superior every year. It was sort of our thing, you know? But we stopped doing that after Carlos cheated."

"Maybe we could all go skiing this year."

Brock's eyes light up at the suggestion, and I can tell that he's already imagining it. "Are you kidding?"

"Nothing too extravagant," I admit, my cheeks lighting up under his gaze. "We could rent a cozy chalet, just for us—with a fireplace overlooking the slopes."

Brock's face tells me he likes the idea as much as I do. "I'd love that. You, me, and our dads, away from everything."

The thought of spending such intimate time together in a winter wonderland makes my knees tremble. "Exactly."

"Let's make it happen."

Brock wraps an arm around me, pulling me close as our lips meet in a passionate embrace.

It’s a promise, a declaration of our commitment to each other and the love we share.

As we kiss, the first snowflakes of the season start to fall from the sky, dancing around us like nature's confetti. One lands gently on my cheek, and Brock leans back to brush it away with a tender touch.

"Look at that," he whispers, a grin spreading across his face. "It's like the world is celebrating with us."

I laugh, caught up in the silly joy of the moment. The snow continues to fall, covering the park in a blanket of white, and it feels as if we're standing in our own private winter wonderland.

The whole scene is almost too perfect to be real, but I know that it's yet another reminder of how lucky I am to have found Brock—and how thrilled I am to have him by my side.

As Brock pulls back from our passionate kiss, the snowflakes drift down lazily, and I swear they're forming tiny hearts as they melt into the ground.

I've never been more in love than I am right now.

"Hey," Brock says softly, his breath warm against my cheeks flushed with happiness. "What do you say we head back to our dorm and start researching ski chalets?"

"Sounds perfect."

We walk hand-in-hand along the snowy path, leaving a trail of our joined footprints behind us.

Jesus. Christ. It’s as if every little thing about Brock—the way he grins when he teases me, the softness in his eyes when he speaks, and the faint scent of his cologne—intensifies the affection I feel for him.

Suddenly, Brock's phone buzzes in his pocket. He glances at the screen and his eyes widen, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

"Whoa, what's the message?" I ask, unable to contain my curiosity.

"Remember that contest I entered last week?"

"Of course."

"Well, we won an all-expenses-paid trip to Puerto Vallarta."

CHAPTER32

BROCK

Beach. Piña coladas. Floaties.Oh my.

The sun beats down on the bustling beach in Puerto Vallarta, casting a golden glow over the sea of gay men holding hands and frolicking in the surf. The air is filled with party music and the enticing scent of Mexican drinks. In every direction, there are people dancing, playing volleyball, and soaking up the calming embrace of the sun.

It's liberating to be surrounded by people who understand what it's like to love freely, without judgment or fear. As I take in the sights and sounds of the idyllic beach, my eyes keep drifting back to Blakely—who’s become the center of my world.

"Isn't this amazing? I never thought we'd find a place where we could be ourselves, you know?"