Page 29 of Head Over Skis

A series of whoops and wolf whistles followed, and my mood was picking back up with every second I was there and Adam wasn’t. Part of me was worrying about where he was and if he was okay, but a larger part of me was fixating on the way Rory’s hand brushed through his hair as he smiled at the groups dotted around the room.

‘Well get ready, because we’re about to jump into round two of the evening, and it’s…’

His eyes found our table in that pause. Found me. And this big cheesy grin spread across his face.

‘Musicals!’

I nearly fell off my bar stool as I registered what he’d said, and suddenly I wasn’t on a bar stool at all but balanced on his kitchen island whilst he shuffled through songs on his phone.

It had come up so casually in our conversation, him putting on those songs in an effort to help me relax, and for a second, I wondered if it was merely a lucky coincidence. Then his parting words came back to me.

‘Am I crazy? Do you think this whole theory is crazy?’ I ask, genuinely concerned I’m way off the mark with this whole thing.

‘Okay, let me try and get a few things straight,’ she says, twisting in the narrow seat to face me as she starts to list things off. ‘This guy bought you a drink, then he followed you out in the snow to give you his jacket, then he wrote a whole quiz round on a topic he knew you’d know lots about all because he’d found out only a few hours before that you’d be there? Am I getting that all right?’

I nod. ‘So do you think he might be flirting with me?’

Tilly tilts her head back until her helmet thumps against the back of the seat. ‘Do you even have any brain cells in that French-braided little head of yours? Yes, this guy is totally flirting with you.’

I feel a rush of something like a thrill but also utter panic at the same time, and I don’t look down otherwise those feelings mixed with how high we are might make me throw up on the white all-in-one snowsuit I borrowed from Meghan.

It’s even got a faux-fur-trim hood and probably costs more than my flights here, but she insisted I wear it. When I tried it on and saw my reflection in the mirror, I realised why – it makes my butt look a lot better than the mismatched trousers and jacket I wore yesterday. I didn’t realise I’d be so grateful to have a fashion guru on a ski holiday.

‘Okay, well what the fuck am I supposed to do now? How do I act around him?’

Sweat starts to prickle at the back of my neck as I consider whether to try and flirt back. I haven’t properly flirted with someone since the early days of my relationship with Adam, and that was so long ago now I don’t want to think back on it because it will make me feel old.

Should I even be flirting with someone when I’m still sort of taken?

‘Uh-uh, I know that face. You don’t owe Adam anything, and besides you could do with letting loose a little.’

‘I am loose.’

Tilly scoffs. ‘You’re my best friend, and you know I love you, so please don’t take this the wrong way, but Lottie, sometimes you don’t know a good time even when it’s hitting you in the face.’

I nearly drop my poles as I swivel round to face her, mouth open wide in offence. ‘Excuse me?’

She shrugs, clearly feeling no remorse at casually branding me un-fun. ‘You’re obsessed with plans, which has meant you’ve stayed in a job you never have anything good to say about, and a relationship I’ve thought you should leave for years. And that’s not a surprise, you know I’ve said that before.’

I nod, not feeling offended. She’s not wrong about my job, and she’s always been honest and admitted that she doesn’t think Adam and I are the right fit, and it’s nothing against him as an individual. And I do appreciate her telling me.

‘You never do anything before you’ve thought out all the consequences, you’re always sensible,’ she continues, ‘and for once I’m going to give you advice and I want you to actually listen to me.’

I want to contest some of the things she’s saying, but when I open my mouth, she shakes her head, so I resign myself to sitting tight and listening to what she has to say.

‘Stop worrying about whatever may or may not be happening with Rory and just let it play out. Ditch the stressing and go with it. You might actually enjoy the craziness.’

I grimace, knowing there’s no way I’ll be able to stop stressing about this. ‘I don’t know if I can do that.’

‘Well, you should figure that out quickly because there he is,’ she says, lifting her pole and pointing it ahead of us to where Rory is standing with the other ski instructor we briefly met yesterday.

I’m too distracted by him to realise Tilly’s lifted the safety bar ready for us to get off the lift, and I forget to push myself up when my dangling skis connect with the ground.

‘Lottie! What are you doing?’

I hear Tilly squeal as the chairlift starts to pivot around to head back down the mountain and I’m still on it, my skis getting further and further away from the ground. I scream as I freak out and leap off the seats, picturing all the various ways this landing will probably go wrong. When I expect the impact, I’m cushioned by something instead.

‘You trying to impress me, Lottie?’