I hadn't realised how what a difference the lights made until they didn't work anymore. Suddenly the world outside, which had been a glittering winter wonderland, had grown teeth and claws, a predator crouched beyond the walls, looking for a way in.

In my room, I threw on several layers of clothes, slung the duvet around my shoulders like a cloak, and shuffled into the living room where Finn was banking the fire in the stove. He raised an eyebrow when he saw me.

"You look like a Teletubby," he said.

I looked down at myself. "I was trying to keep warm."

Maybe I'd overdone it a little.

I sat in front of the stove, my back against the sofa, and after he closed the door, Finn joined me. I lifted one edge of my duvet, encouraging him to snuggle in with me.

"How much trouble are we in?" I asked, my voice coming out small and uncertain.

"This isn't the first power cut I've had up here," Finn told me.

"In weather like this?"

A pause.

"No," he admitted.

The logs in the stove spat and sparked, flame-shadows leaping across the walls, and I tried to focus on that rather than the rising tide of panic.

"How long will the frozen food last?" I asked.

"It should be good for up to a day, but even if we lost everything in the freezer, we still have plenty of canned and dried stuff to live off," Finn replied.

"But we don't know how long we'll be here," I said, still in that same small voice.

Finn slid his arm around my shoulders. "It won't be longer than the supplies I have. Our meals might get repetitive but we won't starve, I promise."

A great gust of wind whipped through the woodland around the house, making the bare branch clatter together like bones, and even though we were snuggly warm in front of the fire, I couldn't help a shiver.

Finn's arm tightened around me, and I leaned into his solid chest.

Neither of us spoke for a while, listening to the crackle of the fire and the rising howl of the wind.

"Finn?" I said.

"Yeah?"

"I'm scared."

His eyes flicked down to me, then back to the fire, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. "Really?" he said.

I nodded.

"There's nothing to be scared of."

I tipped back my head, trying to gauge Finn's expression but he was still staring at the fire. "Seriously? We're stranded miles from anywhere in the worst winter for decades and the power just went out."

Finn made a noise that was almost a sigh. "You're freaking out over nothing. We'll be fine."

"I'm not freaking out, I'm scared. There's a difference." Irritation crept into my voice. "And considering I've never been in this situation before, I think I have a right to be."

Finn's jaw tightened. "I guess I just thought you were made of stronger stuff. It's a little disappointing, to be honest."

"Excuse me?" I pulled away from him and his arm fell from my shoulders.

"Did I stutter?" Finn said.

Open-mouthed, I stared at him. "What the hell is your problem?"

"I don't have a problem. I was just making an observation."

Under the duvet, my hands clenched into fists. "Here's another observation. You're a fucking dick."

Finn glanced at me, and something in his face, some flicker of satisfaction made me pause.

"Are you baiting me?" I asked.

His gaze slid away again.

"You are, aren't you? You're deliberately trying to piss me off." I uncurled my fists. "But why?"

Finn shrugged.

I frowned, my brain going back over everything that had just happened until something clicked into place.

"Were you trying to distract me?" I said.

His mouth made a rueful shape. "Is that it obvious?"

My irritation melted into a puddle of affection. "You couldn't think of a better way to distract me than by pissing me off?" I said, nudging him.

He put his arm back around me. "It worked, didn't it?"

"For a few minutes."

We sat quietly a little longer.

"Distract me with something real," I said.

Finn's brow furrowed, his lips pursing slightly. "I was so fucking nervous going on stage for my first Starfinder audition but I managed to get through it without making a complete arse of myself, so I assumed I could cope the same with our first live performance as Momentum. I was wrong."

I snuggled further against him. "What happened?"

Finn grimaced. "I threw up like a teenage girl after her first beer."

"There's a visual I wasn't expecting."

His grimace became a grin. "I wasn't expecting it at the time. But that first live show was when it all became real, you know? I wasn't ready for the weight of it. I panicked."

"Did any of the other guys in the band?" I asked.

I felt him shrug.

"We were sixteen – you think they'd have admitted anything like that to me?" he said.

It was my turn to shrug.

It was getting warm in our little cocoon; I had to peel off a couple of layers. I tossed the discarded shirts to one side and cuddled back under the duvet with Finn.

"You just can't keep your clothes on around me, can you?" he said.

"Funny," I deadpanned.

Finn smirked.

"Do you still get nervous?" I said.

I expected him to respond with something cocky, but Finn frowned pensively. "No," he said. "I know Jude still does –"

"Seriously?" I blurted. My brother-in-law, the leather-pants-wearing rockstar was many things, but I'd never imagined nervous being one of them.

"He doesn't talk about it much, but yeah."

"Wow," I murmured. "When did you stop getting nervous?"

Finn considered it, firelight cutting strange shapes on his face. "I don't know really."

"If you felt like someone else on stage, maybe that's what helped you deal with your nerves," I suggested.

Finn inclined his head in what I took as agreement.

"I don't remember when that started either," he said.

Another gust of wind blew, driving a flurry of snow against the windows, and I felt those flickers of panic again. I tried to shove them back down.

"You hungry?" Finn asked.

I wanted to say no. Food meant getting up, and the last thing I wanted was to leave the cosy cocoon that I'd built with Finn. I wanted to stay pressed up against him, the comforting weight of his arm around my shoulder, his Irish lilt blocking out the rest of the world. I felt safe with him.

But I was also hungry.

"I could eat," I said reluctantly.

"Me too."

Finn stood, and held out a hand to help me up. The duvet slipped from around my shoulders, and he tucked it more securely around me.

"Can't have my little Teletubby getting cold," he said, smiling.

My heart did a backflip.

My brain turned to mush.

Finn held my hand as we walked to the storeroom and that made me melt even more. Without words, he was reassuring me, keeping my fears at bay.

In the storeroom, we both agreed that rather than putting together a proper meal, we wanted quick, easy comfort food to snack on, and we rummaged through the shelves, gathering bags of nuts and pretzels and cookies.

We carried everything back to the living room and laid it all out on the floor. We couldn't cocoon the same way we had before, but as we split open the bags so we could share them, I reflected that this was a different kind of intimacy.

"Have you ever felt nervous about your writing?" Finn asked.

"When I was younger, definitely. But anyone who wants to be a writer has to learn to cope with rejection. This isn't a job for the thin-skinned," I said.

"Is that for all writing or journalism in particular?" Finn's shoulder brushed mine as he reached for the food.

"I'd say all writing, but I can only speak for journalism. I have no experience writing fiction, remember?"

"Right." Finn crunched a pretzel between his teeth. "In my experience, journalism requires a certain lack of ethics and morals, along with that thick skin."

A nut lodged in my throat, and I swallowed hard, trying not to choke.

"All journalists?" I said.

He gave a little smirk. "Sorry if that sounds harsh, but I've got way too much fucking experience with them writing crap about me. When someone treats your life like a fucking soap opera, and doesn't give a single shiny shite about the impact it has, it's hard to think well of them."

I couldn't exactly argue with that. Not all journalists enjoyed grubbing around in the dirt for celebrity gossip, but I hadn't been on the receiving end of it like Finn had.

Finn nudged me. "Obviously that excludes you."

"So not all journalists then?"

Finn threw a nut at me. It bounced off the tip of my nose and vanished somewhere in the folds of the duvet.

I focused on looking for it so Finn couldn't see the guilt and shame that I'm sure was written across my every feature.

Finn thought I was different, but I wasn't, was I? I was as dirty as all the other journalists who'd ruthlessly dissected Finn's life for clickbait, because that was exactly what I'd promised Louise Hoffman I'd do.

If Finn ever found out, he'd never forgive me, and I wouldn't blame him.

"What happens if the power doesn't come back on?" I asked, looking again at the white world beyond the windows.

Finn put his finger under my chin and tilted my head up so he could look me in the eye. "No matter what happens, I'll take care of you. I promise," he said.

He gently kissed me, his lips soft against mine, and there was more emotion in that kiss than any we'd shared before.

My heart flipped again.

In that moment I realised something.

When I'd told Camden that I could handle this, I'd been wrong. Really, really fucking wrong.

Curled up in front of the fire with Finn, our snacks laid out before us, while the bitter winter prowled around the house like a hungry wolf, a mental lightbulb switched on over my head.

I was in over my head.

I was already halfway in love with him.

I should stop this before I got in any deeper, so deep that I couldn't get out again.

But I wasn't strong enough.

***

Three hours later the power came back on, flooding the living room with light, and despite Finn's promises to keep me safe, I couldn't help a sigh of relief.

Finn gently booped my nose. "See? Told you it'd be fine."

"You didn't know that," I muttered, but I smiled as I said it.

"Please." Finn flexed one bicep. Even though a thick sweater, it was impressive. "You should never have doubted me."

It was my turn to throw a nut at him, but he neatly caught it in his mouth, then grinned wide to show it perfectly held between his teeth.

"Show-off," I said.

Finn ate the nut, his eyes smugly dancing.

"Now you've faced this today, you can face your fears tomorrow and get back in the pool," he said cheerfully.

I sunk further into the cocoon, and made a mournful noise, but it was half-hearted. The thought of going out of my depth still made my stomach twist and clench, and raised the hairs on the back of my neck, but I'd do it, partly because maybe it really would do me good, and partly just because Finn wanted me to.

Maybe I was more than halfway in love with him.

Fuck.