8
‘Okay, we’re all going to make our way down to the bottom of this slope in one long line. Try to follow the person in front of you and make slow controlled turns all the way to the bottom.
‘Keep the tops of your skis pointing towards each other in your snow plough and keep your arms out to the sides to help with your balance. Everyone show me that position now so I can check we all know what we’re doing.’
I was almost enjoying the lesson up until this point, but that’s probably because we’re yet to do any skiing.
Standing here, getting to listen to Rory and act like I haven’t seen everything that’s underneath that ski suit has been oddly thrilling.
But now that it seems like I’m about to be forced to face what’s considered the baby slope (but still seems pretty steep to me), I’m enjoying this a lot less.
Everyone shuffles their feet so we’re standing in our ‘snow plough’ position, which I now know is what David was manically trying to get me to do when he was shouting ‘pizza’ as I slid to a snowy death earlier.
Rory walks in a slow semicircle around us, starting with Stephen, who he tries to get to relax more into his posture.
When he reaches me he inspects my body from my head down to where my feet sit inside my ski boots.
It would feel intimate if he was looking over my body to admire it, but he lingers nowhere and it’s clear he’s merely assessing my positioning.
Plus, he’s frowning, something I hope wouldn’t be the case in the first instance.
‘Are your shins touching the front of your boots?’
‘Uh, maybe?’ I say, not really sure what it would feel like if they weren’t. At my answer he bends down so he’s crouched at my feet, one of his hands reaching down the front of my boot before he shakes his head.
‘You need to lean forward on your feet so your shins are touching the front, here.’
My brain switches off for a second as his hand touches the back of my calf, guiding it forwards until my leg connects with the fabric of my boot.
‘There, you feel the difference?’
Yes, I feel the difference between having your fingers touching me and not.
Of course I don’t say that, and settle for nodding. He smiles, moving his hands away and standing up so his face hovers a few inches in front of mine.
‘Good,’ he says, and for a bizarre second, I imagine he’ll lean in to kiss me.
But if his eyes did flick down to my lips, I must’ve imagined it, because before I’ve blinked he’s moved on to Tilly.
He bends down to help tighten her boots and I catch her smiling teasingly at me over his head.
I ignore her, turning my attention back to the training slope ahead of us and preparing myself to start skiing.
Rory finishes checking through the group and moves back to the front.
‘We’re going to start by going down the slope a few times trying to follow the path of the person in front and doing some slow, wide turns. We’ll have a different person behind me each time, any takers to go first?’
Hands grip my waist and push, and it takes me a second to realise what’s happening as my skis start moving of their own accord. I manage to stop before I crash into Rory, who’s so close I have to bend my neck back to see his face.
‘It seems we have a volunteer,’ he says, noticing the way my hands are raised in front of me, ready in case I slammed into him.
I snatch them back, trying not to slide any further as he smiles and I wonder how someone can look so hot in a ski helmet. I don’t even want to know what he thinks of my appearance right now, hair probably poking out of the French braids Meghan did for me this morning after my dramatic fall.
‘You ready, Lottie?’
I nod, fighting the fact that the way his voice lingers on the two syllables of my name makes me dizzy. I gesture down the slope and nearly take his eye out when I forget I’m holding a pole.
‘Lead the way,’ I say, cringing at the amount of times I’ve nearly impaled or bumped into him already and praying we make it down the slope with both of us in one piece.
Before I can stress about it any more, he takes off, moving at what I’m sure for him is a glacial pace but for me causes stress-sweat to pool under the collar of my ski jacket.
I push off with my poles and try to mimic his movements as he skis like it’s easier than walking.
I swear I don’t breathe the whole time I’m moving, my internal monologue a broken record of shit, shit, shit, shit.
I try not to look down, instead staring at the back of Rory’s jacket and marvelling at the way my skis turn in the direction I want as I focus on following his slow, wide turns.
I might be managing to follow his tracks, but that doesn’t mean I’m not freaking out every time my skis momentarily face down the slope, even in the pizza position.
After fumbling my last turn, I barely manage to come to a stop at the bottom, but thankfully it flattens out completely here.
My monologue shifts from shit, shit, shit to wait, I’m still alive?
Once I’m more composed and my life is no longer flashing before me, I shuffle my feet in a rendition of the running man until I reach a group of kids waiting in a line near a strange conveyor belt.
When I was halfway down the slope, I was vaguely aware of Rory turning around to watch me and then proceeding to ski the rest of the way backwards. I barely noticed him though, so focused on not falling on my ass.
‘Not bad for a first try. We’re going to do it again and this time try holding your arms out a little more, like this.’
He reaches towards me, hands touching my arms as he lifts them up and out to my sides.
There are at least three layers between us, from his gloves to my jacket and then the hundreds of other vests and jumpers I put on this morning, but it feels like he could be brushing his fingertips against my bare skin.
I wonder if he feels it too as we stay there, him not moving away as we both look at the points where his hands rest on me.
Then I hear the sound of shifting snow behind me and Tilly comes to a stop at my back, glowing from what I know isn’t only satisfaction at making it down the slope.
Rory clears his throat, not looking back at me as he moves away and waits for the rest of the class to reach the bottom.
I come back to my senses and turn to watch as Penny follows behind Bill, getting close enough to poke him in the back with a pole and causing his ever-present frown to deepen.
At the back is Stephen, staring at the snow in front of him like it’s lava and moving at such a cautious pace I’m not sure he’s moving at all.
Meghan pushes her poles into the snow to propel herself closer to me, nodding her head up towards him.
‘We need to get this guy a drink so he can loosen up a bit,’ she says, and even though I’m unsure alcohol and first-time skiers are a good mix, I think I agree in this case. Once we’ve all made it down with a surprising lack of falls, Rory gestures towards the strange tunnel to our right.
‘Good job, everyone, it’s not every day a full group makes it down on their first time without a fall.
Now, over there is the magic carpet, and it’s the easiest way to get back up to the top so we can do all of that again.
All you need to do is line your skis up at the entrance and shuffle onto the carpet and it’ll do the work for you.
Then when you get to the top, use your poles to push forwards and turn to the right, back towards where we set off from. ’
With that, he skis towards the entrance and I shuffle like a newborn penguin behind him until I get a better look at the inside of the domed tunnel.
‘Ladies first,’ he says, inching to the side to allow me to step on.
I lift my skis up and slide forwards until the tips catch on the carpet and start dragging me up.
Once I’m off, I try to find my centre of balance on the sloped surface.
It moves more slowly than I thought it would, and halfway up I get bored and start watching as other skiers make their way down the slope.
Snow coats the roof of the tunnel and parts of the sides, but I can still make out a group of kids following each other in perfect synchronisation.
I’m busy watching them when I realise my skis are starting to slip backwards.
I panic, immediately pressing my poles into the stationary sections of carpet on either side of me in an attempt to stay in place, but they aren’t enough to hold me and I start properly sliding.
‘Shit!’ I yelp, ready for the inevitable chaos.
I prepare for the embarrassment of falling yet again, and of taking out the whole class behind me, but it doesn’t come. I realise I’ve stopped, and two strong hands grip either side of my waist.
‘It’s okay, I’ve got you,’ a voice whispers close to my ear, and my heart jumps in my chest as I remember Rory was the one behind me. His chest is firmly against my back and my ass is pressed flush against his groin.
‘I’m so sorry about this,’ I say, glad he can’t see the blush that’s spreading across my face and neck as I do everything I can not to move and send us both tumbling back further.
‘It’s fine,’ he says in a monotone, which doesn’t reassure me that it is.
‘This happens more often than you’d think,’ he adds, more softly, and I scrunch my nose in disbelief even though he can’t see.
‘Which part? Students falling into you on the magic carpet, or the part where I’m a student that you’ve…’ I cut myself off before I say anything else inappropriate that someone might overhear.
‘The first part. I’ve never found myself in… the other situation.’
‘Oh, cool’ I say, keeping my head down as I pray for the carpet to move faster. It’s at that moment I realise one of my skis is crossed with his. It must’ve gotten that way when I barrelled into him. ‘Shit, sorry, let me fix that.’
I lift my foot to untangle us as the exit nears, transferring my weight onto my left leg and inadvertently pushing myself into him more as I try not to lose my balance.
Rory’s hold on my waist tightens, anchoring me to him as I straighten out my skis, and I get a flashback to that night.
His hands caressing the dips above my hips, his touch so gentle and heavenly on my bare skin, before he grabbed me in the same place he is now.
Only then it wasn’t to pull my hips towards him for balance, but to push them into the mattress as I lay on my front.
I fight to shut that image of us away, but Rory’s thumbs start to move in delicate circles at the centre of my lower back, and I swear he’s reliving the same memory.
We reach the top, and before I can find out whether his thoughts echoed mine, he releases me.
As he skis past me, our eyes meet for long enough to try and confirm how affected the other was by the last few minutes.
Or rather, he’s able to confirm how I felt about it, whilst his emotions are far from clear.
He passes by my side with ease, while I come to a standstill and have to dig my poles into the snow to inch myself forwards.
It doesn’t take long for Tilly and Meghan to pull up on either side of me.
‘Did you fall back into Rory? Was that on purpose? And why is your face so—’ Tilly’s talking at a mile a minute and I stop her with a firm hand on her chest.
‘Not right now, still processing,’ I say.
‘You little flirt.’ She playfully bites her lip before making her way over to where the rest of the class are gathered. I take my time to follow her and join the group, giving myself the chance to rid my face of the flush that I can’t blame solely on the crisp cold.
Rory does a headcount, lingering on me for a beat longer than anyone else, and I catch his jaw tic.
I try to figure out what that tiny movement means, worried that it’s something bad.
The situation on the magic carpet was undoubtedly uncomfortable for him, and although he didn’t show any indication of it at the start, perhaps my presence here is putting him in an awkward position.
His role of keeping everyone in the class safe is a serious one and what about his reputation at the school?
Now that I’ve shown up, he’s probably seriously regretting the night we spent together because of how it’s screwing with his job.
He was likely regretting that night already, given that he’d had to spend half of it making me tea and consoling me as I cried and word-vomited about my ex-boyfriend.
I wish my body would sink into the snow as he clears his throat, that easy smile back on his face, which betrays nothing and only makes me more nervous.
‘Who’s ready to go again? Maybe a different volunteer to follow me this time?’
‘I’ll go,’ Penny announces, pole lifted into the sky. She pauses as she shuffles past me, leaning into my side to whisper. ‘Who wouldn’t take up the chance to stare at his bottom up close for a few minutes? But don’t tell Bill.’
She winks as she sets off down the slope and I chuckle, because she has no idea how right she is.
I wait for more of the group to follow, hoping to go at the back of the line this time where there’s the smallest chance I’ll make Rory more uncomfortable than he already is.
Meghan pulls up at my side, nudging me with her shoulder.
‘Come on, slow-poke, only two hours and forty-five minutes to go,’ she says, giving me a little shove from behind to get me going.
I pray the time flies.