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T he cabin is buzzing with dysfunction while the incoming storm outside is forgotten for the moment.

The fireplace is going full pyro, casting flickering light over the open-concept room, and Vicky’s meticulously curated playlist blasts through the Bluetooth speakers.

The coffee table is a graveyard of empty beer bottles, crushed soda cans, and snack carnage—half-eaten chips, a smear of guac, string cheese wrappers, and a pile of baby carrots no one’s touched. Clearly, we’re thriving.

It’s messy yet warm in a way that makes me hate it a little less. But only a little.

Mia’s sitting cross-legged on the plush rug, tequila shot in one hand, beer in the other, and all the bad decisions in the world written on her face.

Beer as a chaser? Bold choice. I already know where her night is heading.

She glares at Derek with the intensity of someone who’s been scrolling relationship advice on TikTok.

“I’m just saying,” she slurs, punctuating every word with a dramatic wave of the bottle like it’s a microphone, “if you really loved me, you wouldn’t be texting her.”

Derek, sprawled out in the armchair like he’s physically weighed down by her nonsense, lets out the kind of groan that says he’s over this conversation and maybe over his entire life. “Oh my God, Mia, for the last time—it wasn’t like that.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” She rolls her eyes so hard I’m amazed they don’t pop out of her head.

“That’s what every cheater says,” she snaps, but her words lack the venom they had earlier.

She’s too tipsy to stay angry. She just yanks a tortilla chip at his face.

It bounces off his forehead and lands in his lap.

He doesn’t even flinch. Progress, I guess.

Meanwhile, Vicky and Jay are cozied up on the couch, sharing a blanket. They look like a couple from one of those Pinterest boards titled Relationship Goals , and it’s both sweet and makes me gag. But judging by how they are cuddled up, things are much less classy underneath that blanket.

And then there’s Chase.

He’s next to me on the other couch, looking sexy in that maddening way he always does.

His one arm is draped across the back of the sofa, all relaxed, but every time he shifts, his fingertips brush my shoulder.

It’s such a him move—subtle, but deliberate enough to make my stomach flip.

His other hand holds a beer, and he takes slow sips, watching the chaos unfold with amusement.

We haven’t been dating that long. A couple of months, tops.

I wasn’t even sure I wanted to give him a chance at first. He’s just…

too perfect. Perfect smile, perfect hair, perfect everything.

It’s obnoxious, to be honest. But he was persistent and kept asking me out until I finally said yes.

What I really wanted was to get it over with, half-expecting it to fizzle out. Except it didn’t.

And now here we are. In Alaska. Romantic, right?

In the background, Mia throws another chip at Derek, this time hitting the fireplace instead. It sizzles on the edge of the flames, and everyone just stares at it for a second before bursting into laughter.

“Having fun?” Chase murmurs, leaning just close enough that I can feel his breath tickling my ear. My heart skips a beat, and I’m pretty sure he can tell.

“Thrilled,” I deadpan, gesturing vaguely at the tequila-fueled telenovela before us. “This is exactly how I pictured the trip going.”

He chuckles, low and soft, and it’s infuriating how much I adore that sound. “Admit you enjoy it,” he says, his lips quirking up into a smirk. The kind that makes my knees feel like jelly even when I’m sitting.

“Debatable,” I mutter, but I don’t pull away when his fingers brush my collarbone this time, making my skin prickle .

“Oh please!” Mia snorts, and it takes me a moment to realize she’s talking to me. “You’ve been having a stink face the entire time, like a spoiled fucking princess you are.”

“I’m sorry,” I respond venomously, narrowing my eyes. “Am I ruining the mood for you to fight with your boyfriend?”

“She’s drunk. Just ignore her.” Chase nuzzles into my neck, placing soft, wet kisses along my throat. I know he’s trying to distract me, but Mia’s words stick, getting to me.

“I’m not a spoiled princess,” I mumble, more to myself than anyone else. “I just don’t like winter. Sue me.”

“You’re my princess, though,” Chase butts in playfully.

Can he be any cheesier?

“My beautiful, cranky princess,” he adds, with that Golden Retriever energy of his.

I elbow his side, trying to act annoyed but failing miserably.

“What?” he teases, gently nipping on my skin before looking up at me. “You look so good with your stink face on.”

“Shut up!” I laugh despite myself. He always makes me laugh.

But something in his eyes changes, and the intensity builds. He shifts his body toward me, his knee brushing mine as his hand slides from the back of the couch onto the curve of my waist. He cups my face with his other palm, and my cheeks immediately heat up.

The next thing I know, he’s kissing me .

Soft at first, like he’s giving me a moment to adjust. Then, as I melt into him, his tongue enters my mouth to find mine and we join in a passionate dance.

His lips press harder against mine, warm and firm, while the hand on my waist pulls me closer, anchoring me to him.

And suddenly, it feels like we’re the only two people in the room.

I clutch at his hoodie, holding on like I might float away otherwise, and my body presses against his without thinking.

All I feel is him—his lips, his hands, the way he smells, the way he tastes.

“I know you hate all of it,” his voice drops to a husky whisper, “but I’m so happy you’re here with me, Em.”

He deepens the kiss, his hand moves from my face to the back of my head to steady me as he grasps a fistful of my hair.

I moan softly into his mouth as he grows more urgent, his lips exploring mine with an almost overwhelming heat.

His hand slides from my waist, onto my thigh.

I feel his fingers dig into my flash over the fabric of my leggings and he tosses my leg over his lap, closing the gap between us completely.

His hand snakes up higher, brushing against the bare skin of my stomach just under the hem of my shirt, and my entire body lights up.

Things are getting dangerously close to us dry humping in front of an audience. Whether they’re paying attention or not, the thought makes me pull back slightly, breaking the kiss just enough to whisper, “Chase…”

“Hmm?” His lips trail along my jaw now, feather-light, moving down toward the sensitive spot just below my ear. “You want to move to the bedroom?” he murmurs, his breath warm and rugged against my skin. His teeth find my earlobe, and he nibbles lightly, sending a bolt of heat straight through me.

I freeze.

It’s not like we haven’t done stuff—we have—but we haven’t gone all the way. And it’s not that I don’t want to. I do. But part of me hesitates, wondering if it’s too soon, if I’m truly ready.

Then there’s the other part. The one that’s scared. Not of him, but of what comes after. No guy is nicer than one who hasn’t fucked you yet—everyone knows that. And Chase? He’s almost too nice.

I know I’m no troll—five-seven, fit, sun-bleached blonde, legs for days, grass-green eyes, and a natural tan that doesn’t quit.

I bring my own to the table. I could get any guy if I wanted.

But Chase? He’s on another level. A guy like him—gorgeous, popular, filthy rich—doesn’t need to try this hard.

And I don’t have much experience in the relationship department. I’ve always had bros, but Chase is different. My first real boyfriend. I’m also still a virgin. I guess I was waiting for the one—or something. Is he it? I don’t know. We haven’t dropped L-bombs yet. And I’m not sure I’m there.

But when I meet his baby-blue eyes, my head goes fuzzy. I bite my lip, heart racing as I weigh the thought of going to bed with him.

“Or…” Chase pulls back slightly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “We could heat the hot tub.”

I blink at him. “The hot tub? Outside? You realize there’s a literal blizzard happening, right? ”

And a killer stalker or something , I add, but only inside my mind.

“It’s not that bad. Look,” he says, glancing out the window.

I follow his eyes. Snowflakes swirl in the dark, but they’re still manageable, not the whiteout we were warned about.

“And besides…” He licks the shell of my ear, his voice dropping to a low rasp. “I intend to keep you extra warm.”

My brain short-circuits for a second. “You’re ridiculous,” I say, pushing lightly at his chest.

“Ridiculously into you,” he counters without missing a beat, grasping my face between his hands to steal one more passionate kiss before I can protest.

I give in to him, kissing him with the same eagerness.

“Come on,” he says, standing and pulling me up with him. “Just the two of us. It’ll be fun.”

I hesitate, glancing at the others. Vicky and Jay are wrapped up in their own world, Mia and Derek are still bickering, and no one seems to notice us. My eyes then shift back to the windows—I don’t think the outside is safe, blizzard or not. But how crazy does that sound?

“Okay,” I say finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

His smile is enough to chase away my doubts. Maybe—just maybe—this getaway won’t be so bad after all.

“Alright, I’ll go get it started,” he says, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on my forehead. “Meet me out there in a few minutes? And bring some towels.”

“Yeah, sure,” I mumble, trying to sound casual. He puts on his jacket, grabs a couple more beers, then turns on the fairy lights outside and steps out onto the patio. The cold air rushes in for a brief second before he shuts the sliding door behind him.