No.

Not really.

It took me two seconds to find the sugar. The entire bag of unopened sugar. At first, I thought someone had put in the dishwasher by mistake. But then I realized it wasn't lost at all.

It was stashed.

God, Noah was good. Noah was good. I didn't know what I'd done to deserve him, to deserve my very own Cupid who could apparently read my mind. He'd handed me exactly what I needed without me even having to ask.

I had it. I had my one night alone with James. Just like I'd begged God and Father Christmas and all three of the Holiday ghosts to bless me with. It was there—right in front of me—and never had the stars been so perfectly aligned.

Because I knew myself. I knew that my newfound resolve would be quick to waver. Hell, knowing me, it would only take one mixed signal from James to scare me back into my shell, back into the fiery depths of the dreaded friendzone where everything was so hard.

But we'd had too many almosts. Too many missed opportunities. Far too many false starts. That night, frisky Madi was out. She wanted answers, and she was ready to face whatever the Christmas spirits had in store for her.

Good or bad.

"You okay over there?"

James was peering at me from over the back of the sofa, his head cocked studiously, his grin adorably lazy. I'd been pouring another bowl of popcorn in the kitchen and scanning the weather alert on my phone—totally mindlessly, I'll admit—and hadn't realized that he was eyeing me so closely.

Just as he'd been eyeing Noah and Dex when they'd been hovering in the kitchen moments before.

When we'd both known that they were up to something.

The very same thing that I was up to now.

"Fine," I reassured him a little too quickly, moving out from the counter and back toward the lounge. A lounge that was big enough to accommodate all four of us comfortably, but that now looked so small it sent my heart racing.

The walls seemed to close in with every step I took. Like the universe knew I was getting closer and closer to having my worst fears realized. Or to having my most precious dreams come true.

I still wasn't sure which was the most likely outcome. But Noah and Dex's retreat gave me some form of hope. Would Noah really have left me alone with James if some part of him didn't believe that my feelings were reciprocated?

Maybe it was like he said. Maybe the ball was in my court. Maybe it was time for me to take my shot.

Or maybe he just wanted this whole thing over with.

A shallow breath left my lips as I curled up next to James. I wasn't really next to him, per se—there was enough space between us to house an entire living person. I placed the bowl of popcorn there, praying for a cliché hands-grazing-amongst-the-kernels moment that would inevitably spark fire and say everything I couldn't.

I shook my head to myself. Words, Madison. Use your words.

What were those again?

"There's—"

"Are you cold?" James asked.

I froze for a second, my eyes darting between his.

"Um ..." I frowned, watching my cloudy breath rise into the air. I could actually see it, like it was smoke off a candle or hazy mist at sunrise. With my nerves melting into confusion, I realized that the rest of me was as numb as a block of ice. "Yeah." My frown deepened as I sat upright, rubbing my hands along my arms. "It's freezing in here."

"Freezing," he repeated softly, standing from the sofa and walking to the corner of the room.

As much as I hated seeing him walking away, I had to admit that I liked the view.

"Shoot," he muttered under his breath.

I forced my eyes up from those grey sweats and to something more appropriate. Like his face. Or the twinkling lights laced through the rafters. Or the thermostat, which he, too, was glaring at intently, his fingers pressing the buttons to little avail.

"It's ... off."

"Off?" I jumped to my feet, ignoring the coolness of the floorboards under my socks as I joined him. "What do you mean off?"

"I don't know." He shook his head, shuffling over so I could see. "The whole thing's just black—"

The universe must have been listening. It must have mistaken his observation for direction. Because after crackling and flashing in violent strobes, every light in the room fizzled to an ember.

I flinched. I couldn't help it. It was like a jug of water had been thrown over a campfire, like we'd been swallowed whole by a never-ending sea of black.

That sea felt too still.

Too quiet.

The night was eerily dark, I realized, so cold and barren without anything to color it. I became acutely aware of how far we were from the rest of the resort. Panic stirred and clambered in my stomach, my breath catching in my throat as my eyes grew heavy. As they tried to find something visible to land on.

It was no use. Everything was gone. The world disappeared, and all that enveloped us was night.

"Are you scared, Watson?"

I shivered as James' voice brushed against my ear. I wanted to roll my eyes at him. I would have, if he could have seen it through the heavy black haze masking my face from his view.

But his voice radiated calm. It grounded me, reminded me that I was inside. That I was safe. That I wasn't actually alone.

My senses came back gradually, rolling over my body in steady, familiar waves. And when I tried to relax my limbs, tried to regain some feeling, I realized that my hand wasn't empty. That I wasn't floating or drowning, after all. That I'd grabbed onto something, something akin to an anchor in a storm.

Him. His hand.

I jerked away self-consciously. In the frigid room, I could practically feel the heat rising to my cheeks. "No. Of course not."

Maybe I was. Maybe I was scared. And maybe that was juvenile.

But maybe I didn't care.

"Does, um ..." I twisted a piece of my hair timidly, trying to find a job for my hands that wasn't latching onto his. "Does this happen often?"

"Only when there's a storm."

"A storm?" I exclaimed. A deadly chill cascaded down my spine, the word hitting me like a ton of bricks that stole my fear. That turned it into something more useful. Anger. "I knew it was going to storm! Those idiots."

Slowly but surely, my eyes adjusted to the dark—just enough so that I could see his crystal blue gaze swimming with amusement. But I didn't have time to soak it in, to appreciate his soft grin or the way he'd shuffled closer to find me.

I turned on my heel, trying to recall the layout of the room as I made my way to the door.

"Where are you going?" James asked, a light laugh decorating his tone.

"We have to find Dex and Noah."

He scoffed loudly. I could hear that he was hot on my heels.

Not that we were moving very quickly. It was almost pitch black, after all.

"We can't go out there, Madi."

"Well we can't leave them!" I reasoned, feeling around the sofa for my phone.

The light from our cells cut through the darkness as messages began illuminating the screens. We retrieved them in unison, silently reading the texts Noah sent through.

We made it to the main hotel. We'll stay here until the weather passes.

And, then—

Tell Madi not to worry.

#PenguinLife, Dex added.

"See? They're fine," James told me, waving his phone in front of my face.

I pursed my lips stubbornly, tracing the curved line of his mouth under the artificial light. I gave in with a sigh, drinking in the triumph that lit up his features. I always enjoyed the push-and-pull of my friendship with James, but there was something so cute about him when he got his way.

I fought the urge to shuffle my weight, to redistribute the fluttering in my stomach that only built the longer I studied him. How was it that in a building so large and dark, everything suddenly felt so intimate and alight? Like it didn't matter where James and I were—in the light, in the shadows, in a crowded room or on a secluded wintery peak—like as long as he was in front of me, as long as he was telling me everything was okay, it simply would be.

Was I the only one who felt it? Or was I his fire in the dark, too?

I shivered at the thought.

His spine straightened like an arrow. Our phones had locked, shrouding us in darkness once again, but the dying firelight revealed the concern threading his brow.

"Stay here."

I tilted my head as he moved past me. "Where are you going?"

"To get more firewood."

I sprang into action, shadowing him as he had me. "What? No!"

"No?" he repeated.

"You just said it was too dangerous to go outside," I pointed out.

"This is dangerous, too."

"Staying inside is dangerous?"

He sighed, turning back reluctantly. He reached into the brisk air that separated us.

He rested his hand on my cheek.

It did nothing to assist with the redistribution of that fluttering. That man and his damn hands were going to be the death of me.

"You're freezing, Madi. And it's only going to get colder."

I shook my head slowly, careful not to shake him away. "I'm fine—"

"It's not far," he persisted, stepping back. "They keep some firewood right around the corner—"

"No."

He blinked. "No?"

I grabbed him by the arm instinctually—before I could even think it through. But it was only when his finger fell from my cheek that I realized I didn't need fire.

All I needed was him. I needed him to stay.

"I think it's safest to stay inside. To stay together," I explained softly. And I meant it. Sooner or later, help would come. Surely it was best to wait out the storm until it did.

But the other part of me was trembling, and not just because I was cold. James was right; I was a summer girl. What did I know about staying safe in the snow?

"It is safe here, right?" My voice was a whisper. It should have been inaudible.

The tension in his arm melted like butter. We were further away from the grate, and I couldn't see him as clearly as before.

But I could certainly feel him as he edged closer.

"The safest place to be." Like mine, his voice had shed its stubborn edge. It was soft, like the shaggy rug beneath our feet. "These things are basically fortified."

I averted my eyes, though there was little point. Still, it gave me the courage to say, "Then stay."

He hesitated. I felt it. I could almost hear the thousands of thoughts that whirled through his head. Maybe I could have if my heart wasn't beating so loudly.

Like me when the lights shut off, he reached out. His fingers entwined with mine.

But, unlike me, he wasn't driven by fear.

"Fine," he agreed.

Relief stilled my heart. I smiled gratefully, though I didn't know whether he could see it.

I felt his thumb dance across my hand, stroking my cool skin in a soothing, gentle rhythm. "It's going to be okay."

I nodded assuredly, flicking my hair back from over my face. "I know."

I couldn't be sure, but I thought I saw him smile.

"But you really are freezing."

His fingers were still toying with my hand, and though it was supposed to be reassuring, it only tested my composure more.

"Well..." I shrugged matter-of-factly, "there are other ways to keep warm."

His eyes widened ever-so-slightly, his grip loosening so that my hand almost fell from his grasp.

"The blankets," I clarified with haste. I waved in the direction of the sofa. "Blanket. And ... well ..."

I didn't want to say it. I didn't know how I could say it. Not without giggling. Not without passing out. But I wouldn't have hesitated to say it to Noah. Or Dex. Or Kara. Or literally anyone else. What was the difference if I said it to him?

I drew an unsure breath before muttering, "Body heat."

The room fell silent without my shaky voice to fill it. I could hear the billowing wind outside. I could hear my heart beating in my ears. I could practically hear James grimacing across from me.

I didn't know what that meant. But I'd come way too far to retreat.

"It's one of the most effective ways to ward off hypothermia," I explained, channeling my best science teacher impersonation. Like I was giving a lesson to a class of seventh graders, and not convincing the guy I liked to use me as his personal hot water bottle. "It's like, um, our bodies generate heat, and they make whatever's next to them feel warm, too. So, if you have two warm bodies generating heat, it's like a loop. A heat loop. Of ... of body heat."

I knew I was saying the word 'heat' too much.

But it was only in an effort to downplay how much I was saying 'bodies'.

James' body. On my body. Was it even humanly possible for me to feel so hot at the thought?

"Is that right?" he asked, clearing his throat. Actually, he was clearing his throat a lot. Maybe he was getting sick.

And, as his friend, it really was my duty to prevent that from happening.

"It's science." I looked down at my hands, tracing the place where his had been moments before. "Just science."

He didn't speak for a good second or two. He could probably see right through me. He was probably crafting the world's kindest rejection letter.

"Okay." His voice was shakier than before, jolting me from every worst-case scenario playing out behind my eyelids. "So, what, um ... do we just ..." His words tangled together as he laughed suddenly, though it sounded strained and not at all like his normal laugh. "Sorry, how do we do this?"

I couldn't help but smile at his uncertainty. It was rare to be the one driving us; he was usually the one guiding me.

Though, lately, I couldn't help but notice that we seemed to bolster each other.

"Find some candles," I said. "I'll make us some cocoa."

"The electricity's out—"

"There's a gas burner."

"Oh." He cleared his throat. Again. "Right."

Switching on my phone's torch, I turned back to find the kitchen. "Be careful," I directed, reminding myself just as much as him.

"Meet at the sofa in five?"

I bit on my smile. "Sofa in five."

In the time since I'd met James, I'd become all too familiar with the family of butterflies that lived in my stomach. They were joined by an ensemble of others as I located a saucepan and filled it with milk, guided by rays of moonlight that poured in from the skylight above my head.

I shouldn't have been as nervous as I was—not when I stood by everything I was saying. Because I was right; body heat was the most effective way for us to keep warm.

It wasn't romantic.

It wasn't inappropriate.

It was just ... science.

But if mine and James' relationship was a Bunsen burner, then I was most definitely turning up the heat.

iT's jUsT sCiENce gUys!!!

Comment what James is thinking* -->

- Danielle

* Keep it PG, Bianca