Page 61 of Head Over Skis

‘Not much further,’ he says, taking me down a path that would appear totally random if it wasn’t for the singular pair of boot-prints that have clearly walked through it recently.

The prints look slightly ominous, but I’m not left wondering who they belong to for long. We emerge into an opening with an unobstructed view of the mountains, as well as a little hut, and, if my eyes aren’t deceiving me – Kevin.

‘You’re early, hey, Bambi!’ he calls from where he’s standing on top of a small set of steps, hanging fairy lights on the low-hanging branches of a tree.

My eyes move from him to the ground in the middle of the clearing where the snow has been patted down and a gingham waterproof mat is stretched out and layered with fluffy-looking blankets. Behind that is a little wooden bench, the top of which is littered with tiny trays and a rather expensive-looking bottle.

‘Is all of this for us?’ I ask in disbelief, stomach already rumbling when it catches sight of a tray of chocolate chip cookies.

‘If by us you mean you two lovebirds, then that would be correct. I am merely doing this guy a favour for all the times he’s covered my classes over the years due to unforeseen occurrences.’

‘Hangovers, is what he means,’ Rory clarifies, but my mind is still stuck on what Kevin said.

Lovebirds. I know it’s just a joke, but it makes me wonder what Rory’s been saying to him about us. The fact he’s been talking about me to Kevin at all makes me feel all bouncy inside. And clearly he’s put a lot of thought and last-minute preparation into this date. And now I’m here, I can very confidently say it is a date.

I’m in a trance as I walk towards the picnic set-up, the fairy lights making the snow sparkle, and I’m only pulled out of it when a bang sounds to my right. I yelp, hands springing up in a pathetic attempt at defence, only to see Kevin with a cork in one hand and an open bottle in the other.

‘I shall fulfil my waiter duties, then leave you two in peace, I promise,’ he says, producing two Prosecco flutes from nowhere which he begins to fill.

He’s like Mary Poppins, pulling things out of a magic bag that surely aren’t typically lying around in the middle of a mountain.

Something tickles at the back of my neck, and a second later a warm hand comes to rest against the small of my back.

‘Take a seat, I’ll get your drink,’ Rory says, and I channel my focus into staying upright and not sinking back into his touch like a melting snowman.

He leads me towards the rug before heading to the table, and my brain finally kicks into gear enough to utilise the two-second window I have to clean myself up.

I run my hands over my braids, feeling for any places where my helmet hair has become a little crazy. I decide to give up when all I feel is frizz, then I shrug off my ski jacket and do a quick armpit sniff test.

No one told me I should’ve doubled the amount of clothes I thought would be sensible to pack for this holiday, but thankfully today’s the first day I’ve worn this fleece, another of Meghan’s of course, and it doesn’t smell as bad as the others, which I’ve exiled to the back corner of my wardrobe. Kevin’s vanished, and as Rory walks back over to me, I pray he didn’t catch me sniffing myself.

He settles himself down to my left and hands over a glass as well as a plate of cookies.

‘Cheers,’ he says, raising his glass and clinking it against mine. ‘To first dates.’

I take a sip to try and cool myself down because all of this surprise is making me feel a little giddy, but once I swallow down the bubbly goodness, I’m more composed. ‘First date? Are you saying neither our encounter back in London nor the toasties in your treehouse yesterday counted?’

His head bobs like he’s considering it, but he settles on shaking it instead. ‘No, yesterday for the most part was just hanging out. Besides, until we got back to your place, I wasn’t even sure if you felt anything for me.’

I can’t help but laugh at that, because I don’t think I’ve hidden very well how being around him has affected me this week. ‘Are you kidding? I thought it was obvious that since we met again, I’d felt this… pull that’s there all the time. I don’t know if that makes any sense.’

I take a drink and don’t go into it any further, but he nods like he knows exactly what I mean, and it’s only gotten more intense since we gave in to it yesterday.

The memory of yesterday afternoon plays out on his face as his eyes flick down to my lips and pause there for a long time.

‘And London, that was…’ He trails off, his gaze shifting to the snow-blanketed view in front of us, and I don’t know what he’s going to say.

Hot. Thrilling. Reckless. The only thing I’ve thought about when trying to fall asleep at night since.

I fill in the blank with everything my own mind conjures up when I think back to that night, but then I worry as the pause gets longer and longer that he might say something totally different.

Because there were some wobbly moments in the middle. A mistake? Embarrassing?

‘Confusing.’

Oh. Okay. That’s what he settles on after what feels like ten minutes of deliberation? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

‘Sorry?’ My voice wavers, not sure what I should be saying.