Page 66 of Head Over Skis

I hear the hiss of a boiling kettle, and turn to see Rory in the kitchen, leaning one hip against the counter as his eyes scan a piece of paper in his hand.

‘You up for some room service? Doris’s talk of the cheesecake has got me hungry again.’

‘Rory.’

His attention shifts to me as I spin in a slow circle, hands thrown out to the sides.

‘Care to explain to me what the hell is going on? And what did Doris mean when she called you the boss?’

He lets out a frustrated sigh before putting the menu down and crossing his arms in front of him. He looks like he doesn’t want to answer, so I ask him a question that should help me figure all of this out on my own.

‘Rory, what’s your full name?’

I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows before answering, and I know what he’s going to say before the words leave his mouth. ‘Rory Darlington.’

Realisation dawns on me like I’ve figured out the answer to a riddle I didn’t even know I was solving.

Darlington’s Den.

21

‘So let me get this straight – you own this hotel?’

He nods. ‘I own this hotel. And the ski school. And I’m a stakeholder in the company that owns the resort.’

My eyes bug out of my head as I gape at him. I knew he was rich, and it was clear he had some sort of connection to this place, but I thought it was just because he liked to ski here.

I remember the picture of his mum sitting in front of a snowy window. I’d thought the view behind her could’ve been any resort, but now as I stare out of those massive glass windows again, I realise she must have been sitting right here when it was taken. I sink down onto the arm of the sofa, taking a second to process this new information.

‘Here I was thinking you were a well-paid ski instructor with some stocks and shares.’ I shake my head in disbelief.

‘I am a ski instructor, and I do have shares,’ he says, and I scoff. But his expression remains serious as he comes closer, settling onto the sofa beside me. ‘But I have some other responsibilities too. It’s not that different from what you thought.’

It’s clear how much he wants me to understand that, but I can’t help feeling like he’s been lying to me. I guess I could’ve figured it out, why else would he have such an amazing house not far from the resort, and a secret hangout only metres from the slope? And it explains why he was so friendly with everyone, from the gift shop owner to the masseur at the spa and Doris downstairs.

If it’s highlighted anything, it’s the fact that we barely know each other, despite the intensity of my feelings for him suggesting otherwise. I know I can’t actually blame him for not telling me. He doesn’t owe me anything, and like Tilly says, I need to learn to go with the flow, however crazy, so I try and calm myself down enough to accept the unexpected turn the evening has taken.

‘Does a perk of being the boss mean we can get extra cheesecake? Doris did make it sound pretty great.’

He smiles, passing me the menu and talking me through all the options he’d recommend, and I can tell he’s grateful I haven’t made it into a big deal. Although my mind is still whirring, and I can bet you Tilly and Meghan won’t be so calm about it once I tell them tomorrow.

An hour later we’re both sat in one of the bedrooms, empty room service plates surrounding us, our backs propped up with cushions against the headrest. I’m balancing a plate of half-eaten cheesecake on my lap as I stare at the 60-inch TV screen as Ryan Gosling kisses Rachel McAdams in the rain. Before we started watching, Rory tossed me a black T-shirt and a pair of trackies, both of which were so baggy I opted to go for the T-shirt on its own – it falls down to my knees anyway.

‘I don’t think that would be much fun.’ I point at the screen as the characters finish their steamy make-out sesh in the rain.

‘I’m with you, if it was snow though, then it would be a different story.’

Once I’ve had as much as my stomach can take without bursting, I add the plate to the stack that is forming a barrier between where Rory and I sit side by side in the same bed.

I make it about ten more minutes before I’m yawning too much to concentrate on the film. Rory must notice I’m fading because I hear the dialogue pause and then the bed dips. I crack one eye open and watch as Rory carries the remains of our room service off the bed and I make a move to start helping.

‘I’ve got it,’ he says, pressing his hand against my shoulder until I’m lying back down against the pillows.

I must’ve drifted off because the next time I open my eyes all the plates are gone and Rory’s placing a blanket over me. He leans down and moves my hair away from my face, his thumb lingering on my cheek, and I find myself hoping he’ll come closer and kiss me. But instead, he pulls away, waiting at the side of the bed like he can’t decide what to do next. I’m waiting for the bed to dip and for him to climb inside, but when he finally does move, it’s a step towards the door.

‘Where are you going?’ I ask, my voice groggy.

He stops. ‘You look comfortable. I thought I’d let you have this bed and I’d take one of the others.’