Page 36 of Head Over Skis

‘Didn’t you have a private lesson this afternoon?’ I ask, because that’s why I hadn’t even considered that he might be here.

‘We pushed it to tomorrow. It’s with one of the instructors who’s training for a new qualification but she had someone sign up for a last-minute lesson with her, so I told her to prioritise that instead.’

Giving lessons to the other instructors must mean that Rory’s even better at skiing than the flashes I’ve witnessed.

I wonder if skiing’s the main thing that accounts for his impressive body. He’s lowered his arms again so only the muscles that line his shoulders, which curve around like half-moons before they bulge out again, are visible. The rest of him is hidden by the water, but I know what’s under there, and the memory of it makes me wish the bubbles were turned off.

‘Are you enjoying it?’

‘What?’ I snap back, forcing my attention away from his body as I worry if he’s asking if that’s the thing I’m enjoying.

‘Skiing. Are you enjoying it?’

‘Oh,’ I sigh with relief. ‘Why? Are you worried I’m going to leave you a bad review?’

He laughs, shoulders lifting to briefly reveal another inch of skin. ‘I don’t mean my teaching of it; I mean the skiing itself. I want to know if you like it.’

I think over the last two days and the oscillation between my excitement when something clicks, to the fear that overtakes me when I’m not fully in control.

‘I think I will. I need some more practice though, and to get out of my head,’ I admit.

He nods, like that’s a very common answer. ‘But you didn’t want to practise any more this afternoon?’

I shake my head. ‘I was a little tired, and Tilly was desperate for a massage.’

It’s half the truth. I miss out the other half, which is that I avoided this afternoon to have a bit more space from Adam before the evening. He showed he could keep more of a level head in the après bar, and the offer to help with dinner was nice too, but I still want to take things slow between us.

It’s almost like Rory can tell I’ve omitted something, but he doesn’t push it. ‘Ah, well Jean-Luc gives the best massages in town, so she picked the right place.’

I figure Jean-Luc must be the masseur, and the fact he knows his name reminds me of Claudia at the gift shop. ‘You really do know everyone here.’

‘Not everyone.’ He pauses, directing his next words at me. ‘I don’t know that much about you. Or, not as much as I’d like to.’

The way he’s looking at me, eyes dark and hazy through the steam that rises from the surface of the water, makes my head feel light. I clear my throat.

‘And you’d like to get to know me… because I’m your student?’ I ask, steering us back onto safe ground.

He lifts his hand above the water, fingers brushing his chin as he assesses me. ‘No, not because of that. Is it so hard to believe that I want to know more about you because I find you interesting?’

One single laugh escapes me, an inelegant outburst that makes me want to slap my hand over my mouth.

‘Yeah right,’ I say, once I’ve composed myself. ‘I think you’ll find there are tax returns more interesting than me.’

His hand moves up from his chin to his hair, fingers tousling the damp mess of dark brown strands. ‘We’ll agree to disagree. I take it you work in finance?’

I nod. ‘How astute of you. Accounting.’

‘Like I said, very interesting.’

When I laugh this time, I at least manage to make it less dramatic, but I can’t help not taking his response seriously. ‘Said no one ever when talking about accounting.’

‘Okay, then tell me about something else. Tell me about your life back in London. Something you like?’

I consider his question, one easy answer coming to mind. ‘Spending time with my parents. They don’t live too far out of the city, and we’ve always been very close.’

Rory smiles, but his jaw is tight.

‘What else?’ he asks, moving us on to a different topic.