"Can you grab the chips from the kitchen?" Liam called over his shoulder, his hands busy stacking logs in the fireplace. Olivia rolled her eyes but smiled, brushing a strand of dark, wavy hair behind her ear as she stood. "You’re lucky I like you enough to play fetch," she teased, her voice light and playful as she padded toward the kitchen in her socked feet.

They’d been friends for years, ever since college, and nights like this—just the two of them at his cozy cabin—were nothing new. Liam, with his scruffy beard and flannel shirt, looked every bit the outdoorsy type, while Olivia, in her fitted sweater and jeans, carried herself with an effortless grace. Her cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the fire, and her laughter always seemed to fill the room, even when she wasn’t trying.

As she reached for the bag of chips on the counter, the lights flickered once, then went out completely. "Liam?" she called, her voice tinged with surprise. From the living room, she heard him chuckle. "Guess the storm knocked the power out. Don’t worry, I’ve got candles." She paused, the bag in her hand, and glanced toward the darkened doorway, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Better make it quick," she said softly, more to herself than to him. "It’s getting cold in here."