I took a bite, grimacing at the gritty texture, but at least it was food. He was still watching me with that smug little half-smile when I handed the can back.
"You know," I said, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand, "you keep calling me 'sweetheart' like we're in some old western."
He smirked, leaning back on one hand. "You don't like it?"
"I didn't say that," I muttered. "Just figured… since we're stuck together, maybe you should actually use my name."
He raised a brow lazily. "Mia."
I blinked. "How do you—?"
He snorted. "You wore a name tag on the cruise, genius."
I flushed, heat crawling up the back of my neck. "Oh. Right."
He looked way too pleased with himself.
I folded my arms and jabbed a finger at him. "Fine. Since you're so smart — what's your name, then? Or should I just keep calling you 'Boy Scout'?"
He shrugged like it didn't matter, but after a second he said, "Amir."
I repeated it, slower. "Amir."
He caught my eyes, and for a second the usual smart-ass banter between us dulled.
"Yeah," he said, voice lower. "Amir."
I dropped my gaze first, pretending to be very interested in organizing the pile of random junk we'd scavenged.
"Nice name." I muttered.
He cracked one eye open, turning his head lazily toward me. "What's that, sweetheart? Didn't quite catch it."
I glared at him. "I said you have a nice name. Don't make me take it back."
He smirked, slow and sure. "Amir," he repeated, like he liked the way it sounded coming from me. "And yours fits you."
I snorted. "Mia? What's that supposed to mean?"
He shrugged, stretching his arms behind him like he had all the time in the world. "Short. Sharp. Kinda sweet if you don't listen too hard."
I stared at him for a second, not sure if that was an insult or a compliment.
"You're real poetic for a rich guy." I said dryly.
He grinned wider. "And you're real mouthy for someone who barely survived a swim."
I huffed, flicking a pebble at him. It bounced off his leg
He didn't even flinch.
Instead, he reached over and plucked the pebble off the tarp like he had nothing better to do.
"You always this feisty, Mia? Or is it just me bringing out your better qualities?"
I narrowed my eyes. "You wish."
"Relax," he said, tossing the pebble away like it was nothing. "I'm not that desperate."
I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. "God, you're impossible."
"And yet, here you are. he said, laying back and folding his arms behind his head. "Flirting shamelessly."
I choked. "Flirting?!"
"You said my name was nice," he said smugly, eyes closed now like he was settling in for a nap. "That's basically a confession."
I stared at him, absolutely stunned by the size of his ego. "You're delusional."
"Mmm," he hummed. "Keep telling yourself that, Mia."
I lay back too, turning my head to glare at him.
His face was relaxed now, the usual cocky smirk fading into something almost peaceful.
I hated that I noticed.
After a long minute, I muttered under my breath, "Still not calling you Amir unless you stop being a jackass."
He smiled, slow and lazy, without opening his eyes.
"Deal."
The night pressed in, thick and humming with bugs. The stars were clear above, but that didn't make the ground any softer beneath us.
I lay back on the tarp with a sigh, arms folded behind my head. Amir sat nearby, fiddling with a bit of wire he'd pulled from the plane.
"You always this restless?" I asked.
He didn't look up. "You always this talkative at bedtime?"
"Only when I'm stuck in the woods with a guy who thinks sarcasm is a survival skill."
He smirked. "Worked so far."
I rolled to my side, squinting at him in the dark. "Seriously, though. What were you even doing on that cruise? You don't exactly scream vacationer."
"Didn't realize I had a look."
"Oh, you do," I said dryly. "Somewhere between military dropout and trust fund disappointment."
That got a reaction. He snorted. "Not bad. You practice that in the mirror?"
"Just gifted, I guess."
He set the wire aside, finally glancing over. "You're not exactly a mystery either, you know."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Yeah. Loud, stubborn, probably talks back to customers and gets away with it because you've got good cheekbones."
I scowled. "Wow. Real Sherlock Holmes over here."
He grinned faintly. "Tell me I'm wrong."
I didn't. Just pulled the tarp tighter around my legs.
After a few beats of silence, I said, "So what's your deal, then? Amir."
"You already named me Boy Scout. Thought we were sticking with that."
" I'm being polite."
He paused. "No deal. Just… got on a boat. Ended up in the wrong kind of crash. You?"
I shrugged. "Needed the money. Didn't think I'd end up sleeping under a broken wing."
"Yeah, well. Welcome to paradise." He says
"You snore?" I asked, shifting to lie flat on my back again.
Amir didn't look over. "Not that I know of. You?"
"Nope."
"Liar."
"I don't."
"Right. You just look like a snorer."
I huffed. "What the hell does that even mean?"
He smirked in the dark. "Means I'm probably gonna get elbowed at three a.m. when you wake yourself up."
I sat up on one elbow. "If I snore, I expect you to suffer in silence like a real man."
He let out a dry laugh. "We're setting a high bar for masculinity out here, huh?"
"You started it, Boy Scout."
He turned his head, barely visible in the low starlight. "You're not as annoying as I thought you'd be."
I blinked. "Is that your version of a compliment?"
"Take it or leave it."
I stretched out again with a grunt. "You're not exactly a picnic either."
"Didn't say I was."
I snorted. "So you are a trust fund kid."
He didn't deny it. Just leaned back and said, "Get some sleep, Mia. We're probably going to hate tomorrow."
I watched him for a second longer. Then rolled over, facing the jungle.
"Already hate today," I mumbled.
"Fair."