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“After you,” she says, standing by the red tinted-glass door.
The first person I clap eyes on is Teddy, perusing a selection of pastries near the door. “Fred!” I bound into his welcoming arms.
“Snot Face. Happy weekend-long birthday.”
“It’s my birthday tomorrow. Today, I’m technically three years younger than you, and I am going to gloat until the cows come home.”
“Yeah, yeah. Tell me if you’re still feeling so youthful tomorrow.”
I hold my palm to his warm brown cheek and tap it three times on a grin.
“Here’s the birthday girl!” I turn right into Yvette and her thick-knit jumper.
“You’re all trying to age me, aren’t you? It’s like a sick joke.” She laughs and pulls me into a hug. “Oh, hold me all day long; this jumper feels so cosy. How are you?”
“I’m good. I’m excited about this weekend. We’re excited about this weekend. We hardly see you anymore.”
“You saw me two weeks ago, but true, it isn’t enough.”
I step back from her and tap Teddy’s shoulder as he selects a cinnamon swirl from the buffet. “I hear you had a hand in organising all this. Thank you.”
“Oh don’t thank me yet.” He flashes a wide fake toothy grin.
“Hey hey, girly.”
Tim, a friend from uni who I haven’t seen in months, heads over to me, flanked by Amy, who Rachel and I lived with at uni. Matty is also with them. He’s Tim’s old housemate, the ex-captain of the university rugby team, my friend — oh, and my ex. There’s nothing left there but friendship though. In the three months or so we were together, post-drunken night out fumbles tended to turn into unstoppable giggles in his bed, rather than sexy time. Not that he gave the rugby team that version of events.
“You guys! This is an amazing surprise.” I hug and air-kiss them all, grabbing Amy last. Her voluminous brown curls shield my view of what I both think is and hope isn’t behind her, sitting in a leather chair, one foot crossed over the knee of his other leg. I let Amy go and take a step back, from both her and him. My head spins with my sudden change in heart rate and the worry that takes hold in my chest.
He bends to put his coffee down on a table then wipes his hands on a napkin as he rises and makes his way over to us. I’m acutely aware that my friends have stopped moving and talking. Everyone in the room is waiting for my reaction.
“Someone please tell me this is a godawful coincidence,” I ask of any of my friends. It’s a plea. Because I cannot spend a weekend with this man. I wanted to get away from everything, including him and the fucked-up way I feel about him.
Clark’s blue eyes are trained on me. His chiselled jaw is outlined with stubble. His polo shirt is tucked into indigo jeans, displaying the contours of what I know lies beneath — a finely tuned torso, the lightest kiss of the sun colouring him, a small trail of almost perfectly shaped hair down his navel.
I tear my gaze from him and glare at Teddy. “Tell me.” My words are a croak. I’m not sure what hurts more, the words grating my throat, that Clark Layton is walking towards me, or the fact that I know what Teddy is about to confess.
“We’re staying in his family’s chalet,” Teddy says.
I try to flee, but Teddy’s arms hold me still. “He’s having a rough time of it, Dayna. Come on, give him a break. You’re going to be skiing. You don’t even have to speak to him if you don’t want to.”
I clench my fists at my sides. “Give him a break?”
“Come on, Dayna. You said you were over him a long time ago.”
I lied. “Fine. Whatever. Forget him, we’ll have a great time. I’m not going to turn my back on you because you sold your soul to the devil.”
“That’s my girl.”
“Am I the devil in this scenario?” Clark’s voice is smooth, self-assured.
I brace myself before facing him, trying to contain my anger at both him and the whole goddamned situation. “If the horns fit.”
His lips turn in a crooked smile. The very smile that brought me to my knees. I remember the taste of those lips, the feel of them between my teeth, the touch of them against my neck.
Clark steps to one side, giving me a welcome break from the intensity of the connection between us. To my surprise, I’m presented with a similar face — slightly darker skinned and less groomed, but still attractive.
“Hi, Dayna, it’s nice to see you again.”
