Page 82 of Head Over Skis

He gulps as he nods, poles shaking slightly in his hands. ‘I had hoped to be a little bit better before he arrived, but he’s here now, I have the ring, and I’m trying to be impulsive for once. So I’m going to go for it this afternoon.’

I clasp my hands together, giddy as I pull Stephen in for a very one-sided hug. But I can’t help it, I’m in love with love today and I’m so excited for Stephen to get his happy ending. He talks us through his plan, which involves taking Patrick up to one of the blue slopes that he knows he can handle, then proposing at the top before they ski down.

The three of us promise we’ll be waiting at the bottom to raise a glass to the happy couple, and we’re figuring out timings when a hand lightly massages my shoulder. I manage to hold in the moan that nearly slips out at how good that feels, every muscle in my body aching after a week that’s contained more exercise than I’m used to.

I’ll save those sounds up for later, and my heart rate becomes erratic at the thought of being alone with Rory again. I’ve only got to get through this class.

For our lesson he spends the next three hours taking us down the planned proposal route and focusing on helping Stephen until he’s gliding down the slope in style. Looking at him now, I’d never believe Stephen was the same guy I met five days ago who looked like a lost puppy and nearly whacked Penny with his pole.

It’s been one of the unexpected joys of this holiday, meeting some pretty wonderful people as part of this class. And the other unexpected joy – how much I’ve grown to love skiing. Although I know my Bambi nickname from Kevin is probably here to stay, I’ve got to the point where I barely need to think as I glide down the easier slopes. I’m able to relax, shins pressed against the fronts of my boots, my trust placed in my body to take me where I need to go.

It’s a beautiful thing, seeing the snow-capped trees racing by me as the wind blows wild the few free strands of my hair. Almost as beautiful as the face that greets me at the bottom, his eyes taking me in from my helmet to my toes like I’m the only person on this mountain that matters.

As class comes to an end, we wish Stephen luck, and then I spot the rest of my friends hanging their skis and poles outside the cafe that’s become our go-to spot. I turn to Rory. ‘What’s your schedule like for the rest of the day?’

He shrugs his shoulders. ‘It can be whatever you want it to be.’

Although his answer and the smirk on his lips have my head filling with ideas that are far from PG, I push those aside for later. I take off my gloves and lace my fingers through his, pulling him after me.

‘What are we doing?’ He follows me even before I’ve given him an answer, and I like the fact that without knowing what it is, he’s happy to blindly follow me.

I wasn’t sure if it was too soon, but then I remembered what he’d said to me when we were lying next to each other in his bedroom at the hotel. The answer he’d given when I’d asked him what owning all of this was like.

‘We’re making this place less lonely.’

I lift our joined hands to my lips, pressing a kiss to his rough skin, as I lead him towards a table full of my friends.

As I’d imagined, walking in with Rory was a little like leading a lamb into a lion’s den, but it’s been a few hours now and my heart is warm as I watch Rory laughing at the bar with the guys.

Not long after we’d all settled down, Adam offered to buy him a drink and the two of them went for a private chat. Although I’m not sure exactly what was said, I watched it end with them slapping each other on the back, and when they came back to the table the slight tension that had been in the air when we’d arrived was gone.

I lock eyes with Adam where he sits opposite me now, mouthing a silent thank you. He lifts his pint glass at me in acknowledgement. As I look at him, I feel grateful for the time we had together, but even more grateful for the people we are becoming now that it’s over.

Once the guys head back to the pool table for another game, I shift my attention to the girls, who both haven’t stopped bombarding me with questions.

‘So you’re really doing it? Staying here?’

I’ve answered this question already, but I’m not sure Tilly quite believes it. I’m not sure I do either. ‘Maybe, I’m not decided yet. Let’s see where the next week of the holiday goes. And don’t look at me with those big doe-eyes. If I do stay, I’m sure you’ll be glad not to have me crashing on your sofa bed for the foreseeable future.’

‘Especially if someone else is going to be spending some late nights at your place…’ Meghan adds, brushing her shoulder up against Tilly’s as she wiggles her eyebrows.

Tilly glares at her, quickly shifting the conversation back to me. ‘So, what’s your plan if you do stay?’

It’s hardly a surprising question, given I’m usually the one with a plan.

And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t come up with a loose plan of sorts. In the time I’ve been here, I’ve felt more inspired creatively than I have in a long time. I’ve always sketched and painted for fun, but over the last few years it’s felt perfunctory, whereas here it’s been hard not to drop everything and paint. So that’s what I want to do.

‘I was thinking I could try and set up an online business for my art. Maybe I can paint the resort and see if Claudia will sell some prints in her gift shop, too?’

The latter idea came to mind when I remembered that awful painting from Rory’s house in London, which I can now see was an attempt at replicating the mountains here. As well as painting him a replacement, I thought the other tourists might appreciate some more pieces of art that truly capture the magic that hangs in every inch of this place.

I wait for them to look at me like it’s the craziest idea in the world, but they don’t.

‘I think that’s wonderful!’ Meghan says, her tone genuine.

Tilly echoes her enthusiasm, nodding her head before raising her glass to toast. ‘It’s about time. I’ve been wondering why you haven’t set up a side business for years. I’ve nearly sold some of the paintings you’ve given me for my birthdays when money’s been tight. I don’t think you realise how good they are.’

I don’t know whether to swat her for saying she nearly sold her gifts, or thank her for the compliment, so I settle for tapping my glass against hers and taking another sip.