Page 84 of Head Over Skis

‘I don’t want to fall again,’ I admit, knowing my stubbornness comes from a place of fear because of what happened the last time I attempted a red.

His finger lifts my chin, pressing a delicate kiss to my lips that has some of the anxious tangles in my stomach loosening. ‘I’ll never let you fall, Lottie.’

I use his words to steel myself, knowing that if I do achieve this, it’ll feel like the icing on the cake of what has so far been the most perfect day.

I guess we’re doing this.

‘When we get to the bottom I want nachos,’ I say, shuffling my skis enough that I start to move, trying to keep my mind distracted to block out the fear and trusting my body will know what to do. ‘And more of Harry’s cheesecake. And I want you to get the bar to play ABBA.’

Rory skis backwards ahead of me, leaving wide curved lines in the snow for me to follow. ‘Whatever you want, baby.’

‘And I want you to help me get some more brushes and canvases delivered here.’

I’m not usually this demanding, but in all fairness, if I’m going to start painting again, I need supplies, and I’m not exactly well-versed in the French Alps’ version of next-day delivery.

‘Anything else?’ he asks, but my mind draws a blank.

I’m not thinking about bribes any more, because instead I’m thinking about the fact that I’m doing it. I’m really doing it! Without realising, I’ve made it a third of the way down, and as the run becomes wider and gives me even more space to make slow and controlled turns, I think I’m enjoying myself.

The world whooshes past me in a blur of sparkling white as I drift and glide through empty space, not even needing to follow Rory’s tracks. I break away, carving my own path that intersects his in figures of eight, little infinities that will stay until the evening’s snowfall wipes everything clean. A new beginning.

In the distance, figures I can pick out as my friends have started a snowball fight, their squeals and laughter carried towards me on the wind, but all I’m thinking about is the euphoric rush that overtakes me as I look around, thinking this could be my life. If only I’m brave enough to pick it.

And if the fact Rory could make me try this red run tells me anything, it’s that he can help me be brave. To unlock a part of myself I’ve never met but now am anxious to set free.

The ground starts to level out, and I throw my arms wide and point my skis straight for the final stretch, yelling into the wind as I release control. Letting my skis carry me all the way into the open arms of the guy who waits for me at the bottom.

‘That’s my girl, I knew you could do it!’

I unclip my skis so I can run over to him, leaping into Rory’s open arms as he holds me up by my thighs, my legs wrapped around him.

‘Winter Olympics here I come,’ I say, and something tells me that even if I was being serious, Rory wouldn’t tell me to dream any smaller.

‘But first, let’s get you those nachos,’ he says, lowering me and taking my skis as I walk at his side, a bounce in my step from achieving something I never thought I’d be able to do on day one.

As promised, we haven’t even been in the après bar for a few minutes before ‘Dancing Queen’ starts to blare through the speakers and I’m abandoned by my friends as they all rush towards the open dance floor. I hang back, still coming down from the adrenaline rush of completing the red.

‘Did I choose the wrong song?’

Rory’s arms circle me from behind, and I sink back into him as I shake my head.

‘No, it’s a classic. But I don’t dance.’

‘Oh, well I’m going to have to change that,’ Rory says, pushing us forwards towards the chaos.

‘Uh-uh, nope.’ I try to stand firm, but damn it for Rory’s biceps because one little pull on my arm and I’m as moveable as snow on the breeze.

‘I’ll teach you.’

I groan as I continue to resist him, but to no avail. When Tilly spots me she yelps, surprised to see me taking part in anything involving dancing, and I’m quick to point out it isn’t voluntary.

But as the classic ABBA track ends, and the distinctive first beats of ‘I Wanna Dance with Somebody’ start, I can’t help but smile as I’m jostled by the shoulders of my friends all around me. Rory leads, spinning me under his arm before pulling me close, and despite myself, I start swaying my hips to the music. Singing out at the top of our lungs, I think about the true craziness that the last week has been.

From Tilly and David and whatever’s beginning between them, to Meghan and Lucas and the continued happiness I’m certain is in their future. To Adam, who raises his glass to me as I dance, because he knows how much I hate it, and who I appreciate so much for the new era of friendship we’ve entered. And finally, to Rory, who remains a huge question mark in my life, yet right now the uncertainty doesn’t scare me at all.

I may not know what’s to come for us, but I guess that’s the beauty of it. I know how I feel about him and I’m no longer second guessing how he feels about me. Maybe this is it. Maybe this is exactly where I’m meant to be.

Maybe.