Page 48 of Snowed In with You

‘I just wanted to say . . . thank you, I guess,’ stuttered Nate. ‘For making me get up there and sing tonight.’

‘Oh,’ said Lucy, feeling mildly gutted and also guilty for making this moment all about her. ‘I didn’t make you. You made yourself. I just gave you a nudge.’

‘Well, yeah,’ said Nate. ‘But . . . well, it felt good. And I appreciate your nudging.’

Lucy smiled softly, and poked him with her elbow. ‘You’re welcome. I think we all benefitted from that decision.’

‘I’m glad,’ mumbled Nate. ‘It’s not something I ever thought I’d do. But now I’m wondering if maybe I can, one day. With the right support, you know.’

‘You deserve it,’ said Lucy happily.

‘Thanks,’ said Nate. ‘You’ve made this adventure really special. And in the immortal words of George Michael, I think you’re amazing.’

Lucy turned to look at him, now entirely confused about whether this was a genuine moment of connection between them, or just her wanting it to be something it wasn’t.

‘Ah, you’re just drunk-flirting with me now,’ she laughed, trying to take the tension out of the situation.

‘I can’t deny it,’ said Nate with a soft smile, shaking his head as he drained his drink.

‘Shower’s free,’ said Willem, sticking his head through the door of the bar. ‘You might want to get in quick before Andrea drags Felix in there by his remaining hair.’

‘I’m on my way,’ said Lucy, dumping her glass on the table. Lovely as this moment with Nate was, she wasn’t turning down an opportunity to wash. She ran up the stairs and grabbed her towel from the attic room, then stripped down in the bathroom and sighed as the hot water sluiced away the sweat and grime of the past two days. She washed her hair and body whilst using her feet to trample her clothes underfoot like she was treading grapes, then rinsed everything off before her three minutes was up. The hardest bit was trying not to fall sideways and hit her head on the glass door in a haze of wine and impure thoughts about Nate.

When she came out, wrapped in a towel and clutching her wet clothes, Nate was waiting in the corridor.

‘You OK?’ asked Lucy.

‘Mmm,’ said Nate. ‘I smell of bar.’

‘Me too. Well, not any more.’

Nate tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. ‘What do you smell of now?’

Lucy laughed and rolled her eyes. ‘See, now you’re definitely drunk-flirting with me. Which isn’t fair when you’re so much more dressed than I am.’

Nate nodded thoughtfully. ‘Does that mean I can drunk-flirt with you when I’m wearing fewer clothes?’

‘I’ll see you upstairs,’ said Lucy, rolling her eyes and no longer sure if the feeling of unsteadiness was due to wine or Nate. Either way I’ll see you upstairs definitely sounded like some kind of invitation, and she couldn’t be sure if she’d done that on purpose. She hurried up to the attic and wondered how she could make it feel less like a spooky cave, which wasn’t quite the vibe she was going for right now. In the end she draped her purple bra over the torch to create a softer, more dissipated light. Still not exactly romantic, but better.

Lucy pulled on Monica’s pyjamas and hastily re-inflated both their beds, hoping Nate didn’t arrive in time to see her pumping madly in ugly polyester florals. Should she keep them on, or get into bed naked, just in case? Nate had definitely been giving off flirty energy just now, and she hadn’t exactly sent him packing. But where did Sasha fit into all this? Much as she definitely wasn’t averse to pushing their two airbeds together, it wasn’t worth getting fired or punched over.

Lucy wriggled into bed, deciding to ditch the pyjama bottoms but keep the top on. Am I too drunk for this? she asked herself. Wine was definitely coursing through her veins, but the ache between her legs implied both body and brain were in a state of full consent.

She waited in anticipation of Nate’s footsteps on the stairs, pushing the idea of having sex with him around in her brain. Do I actually fancy him, or has the intensity of this whole mountain hostage situation addled my brain? Maybe it was like being trapped in a lift with someone for so long that you decide you might as well fuck them just to pass the time.

No, thought Lucy. Before this trip she’d dismissed him as dull, but now she’d got to know him a bit, she liked him. And she also definitely fancied him. He was funny and talented and complicated and undeniably hot.

Nate appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing nothing but a dark grey towel around his waist. He sat on the edge of Lucy’s bed, and there was a purpose and urgency to his movements, like he’d been thinking about it all through his shower and decided not to beat around the bush. Lucy took in his naked chest and shoulders and narrow waist – he was less lean than Marco, but not as muscular as Anthony. He reached out to take her hand, gently running his thumb across her palm, and for a second Lucy stopped breathing again.

‘Just before this gets entirely out of hand,’ she whispered, ‘I need to ask a question.’

‘I have condoms,’ said Nate, kissing the palm of Lucy’s hand and making her shiver. ‘I put the ones Kristoff supplied at dinner in my coat pocket. We can live the brand experience.’ Wine and bourbon and the dark privacy of the attic had made him more confident, and it was undeniably sexy.

‘That wasn’t the question,’ said Lucy, extracting her hand and sitting up to hug her knees. Under different circumstances she might have taken umbrage at the assumption that she was obviously up for sex, but the knowledge that they were both on the same wavelength was actually kind of thrilling.

‘OK,’ said Nate. ‘What’s your question?’

‘I thought you were seeing someone.’