12 #2
‘No, cider is perfect,’ I say, liking how he remembers my go-to, and he slides the drink towards me.
I reach out to grab it, but he hasn’t pulled his fingers away from the glass yet. Mine brush against his, warm against the coolness of the glass. His hand shifts, and I expect him to pull away, but instead his fingers move so that our little fingers cross.
I hear someone clear their throat. Tilly’s trying to signal me, head bobbing manically towards the door where the rest of our friends are filing in. Adam trails after Lucas, laughing at something he’s said, and his eyes find mine immediately.
It takes me back to normal nights in London, and even at uni.
Him arriving with the guys, sliding onto the bench at my side.
Him ordering me a cider with a side of nachos because he also knows they’re my favourite pub food.
His features glaze over, like he’s remembering it too, and it’s nice to share a moment of mutual recollection.
But then I watch as his eyes shift down to the glass in my hand, and I don’t move fast enough. Any fond expression is replaced with irritation, and a wave of guilt rushes over me even though all that happened was a brush of a hand.
Considering everything, I don’t know why he thinks he has the right to glare at me like I’ve committed some terrible crime, but he does, and I feel guilty.
I quickly pull my hand away, burrowing it into my lap in an attempt to avoid any drama, and mutter a thank you to Rory without meeting his stare.
As much as Tilly’s encouraging me to, I still know I can’t let anything happen with him while I’m here.
Nothing’s happened as far as Adam knows, yet he’s sulking like someone’s pissed on his birthday cake.
I don’t want to ruin this holiday for everyone else by making him upset or, god forbid, getting into a situation that forces anyone to pick sides.
Thankfully, a close-contact official Rory-and-Adam meeting is avoided when Rory notices the clock on the wall behind me.
‘I better get going, I’ve got a private session in five minutes. Have a good afternoon, and I’ll see you guys tomorrow,’ he says, not only to the three of us but also to Stephen, Penny and Bill, who have all sat together further down the table.
Lucas slides into a gap on the bench opposite, while David chooses instead to scoot around the back to head to the corner seat.
Once he’s passed me, I catch his hand brush across Tilly’s lower back.
She leans back into it, before bolting forward and sending him a glare that only I catch before he settles opposite us, acting like nothing happened.
Adam then appears and takes the newly vacant place at my side.
He doesn’t say anything at first, and I can tell he’s battling with himself over whether to confront me about that moment with Rory, or to let it go.
‘Did you have a good morning?’
A weight lifts from my chest when he chooses to leave it, which is a step forward from how he acted last night.
‘It was fine, I’m shaky still, but definitely better than yesterday. And we went further up the mountain.’
‘That’s awesome! Show me where.’ He takes a small map out of his pocket and starts unfolding it. While I try to remember the route we took to get down, the others opposite me are consulting their own map.
‘There was that blue that starts at the top of the chairlift near the 109? Do you remember? The one that snakes down through the 50 then merges with the blue 13? Or instead we could carry on and it becomes the 44—’
‘Don’t you mean the 43?’ Adam chimes in, attention diverted from our conversation.
They all keep talking about possible routes for the afternoon, but I lose track of what they’re saying as my fingers fiddle with a napkin that lies next to my drink.
An abandoned pen sits to the right of David, which he’d previously been using to mark parts of the map, and I get an idea.
I swipe it before he can notice, then unfold the napkin and flatten it out on the table in front of me.
The voices of the others drone on, but I don’t hear them, my thoughts wholly focused on the drawing I’m etching onto the small white square.
It’s rough, and I think I’ve punched a fair few holes through the thin fabric with my overly eager pen, but I keep going.
I’m overcome with the need to create something, and it’s a calling I want to grab onto and not let go of.
When I finish, I’m presented with a tiny depiction of Rory, Penny and I, on the chairlift. I love it instantly.
I quickly tuck it away safely in my pocket before anyone sees, especially Adam, then tune back in as the others seem to finalise a plan.
When I think about putting my skis back on and trying to concentrate enough to follow them down a route I’ve never done before though, I’m more tired than enthusiastic.
Tilly is absently rubbing her shoulder opposite me, and I can tell she’s feeling exactly the same way.
‘You know what,’ she says, taking charge on our behalf. ‘Meghan, you’re welcome to join the guys if you want, but I’m done for the day and am in desperate need of a massage if my muscles are going to make it to the end of this holiday. Fancy joining me, Lottie?’
I try not to sound too excited as I finish off my drink and push it towards the other empties in the middle of the table. ‘Why not? We’ve had a good day, and I could do with the recharge.’
Meghan decides to stick with the boys, and I’m glad for her because she’s definitely the best out of the three of us and I think it’ll be a good challenge for her.
‘Meet you guys back at the chalet. I’m on the cooking rota tonight so I hope everyone’s happy with pasta bake.’
I don’t miss Lucas’s grimace, and it isn’t unwarranted given the food I’ve cooked him before. Dishes which can all be described in two words: bland and overcooked.
‘Hey, Lotts!’
Tilly and I are almost at the door when Adam calls me back.
‘If you want, I can help you cook later. My night’s not until the end of the week so it’s no trouble.’
It’s a sweet offer, and he’s really trying, what with not questioning me about Rory earlier. And selfishly, I would like the help.
‘Thanks, Adam. I think everyone would appreciate that.’
He’s pleased by my acceptance, and it’s a small form of forgiveness for last night. I follow Tilly to our skis, and while we sit on the chairlift down into town, I wonder why getting things back on track with Adam doesn’t feel as good as I’d expected.
I let Tilly research spas while I searched for the black swimsuit I was sure I’d packed.
When I came up short, Tilly fished out her spare bikini, which frankly is nothing more than a thong and a top with two tiny triangles.
Not ideal, but I took it as it was either that or my actual underwear, and none of the pairs I’d packed are especially flattering.
Now we’re both in the changing rooms, having been given our robes, a little towel each, and two pairs of flimsy slippers.
‘Right, I’m off to my massage,’ Tilly says, shutting her locker and looping the bracelet with the key around her wrist. ‘Pray for me that it’s worth the eighty euros I’m spending on it.’
‘Fingers and toes crossed for you. Come and find me afterwards.’
Once she’s disappeared, I pull out my phone, the act of crossing my fingers reminding me of Dad and his potential pilot.
I open the latest string of messages on our group chat to check for an update, but the last thing sent was another selfie of Dad with the neighbour’s cat from two hours ago.
I send a quick update of my day as well as some photos from the top of the slope, which Mum heart-reacts almost immediately.
I lock my phone away, scan over the list of facilities my general package covers and come up with a plan for my time, starting with a dip in the hot tub.
I take slow steps as I follow signs for it, trying not to slip in the truly awful slippers. I pause at a set of misted glass doors and hype myself up for the brief walk through the cold I’ll have to do to get there.
When I’m ready, I push open one door and scurry out onto the wooden plank path, the thin towel wrapped around me doing nothing to keep out the cold.
Snow seeps through the useless slippers, but I’m nearly there and I don’t waste a second before dropping my towel on the patio and getting ready to submerge myself.
I was sure there was no one else in the tub when I peered through the door, but now I’m here, I realise I was wrong. I pause with one toe dipped in the water.
Rory’s eyes slowly open and settle on my frozen frame. I watch him register how little of my body is covered by Tilly’s pornographic bikini, his eyes taking their time travelling up my body.
‘Hi, Lottie. Nice bikini.’
I’m frozen, unable to respond as my skin breaks out in goosebumps from the chill air, and from seeing him again while wearing practically nothing. He shifts so he’s sitting taller and drapes his arms on the rim of the tub.
‘The hot tub’s big enough for two.’
That’s all he says, and I’m torn on whether to get in or grab my towel and hide in the sauna. I still haven’t moved when he speaks again.
‘Or I can leave if you’d like.’
‘No!’ I blurt out. ‘You were here first, so if anyone should leave it should be me.’
‘And what if I didn’t want you to?’
‘Then…’ I trail off, because I can’t think of how to finish my sentence.
Once again, he’s said something that leaves me floundering over my words. Because that was definitely flirting and I’m so woefully out of practice. Or maybe this is how he speaks to everyone. Maybe he’s a charming sort of guy. Lord, I have no idea.
One thing I do know is that if I don’t move soon, I’ll freeze, so I step over the lip, lower myself in, and finally manage to come up with something. ‘Then I’d say I’m sure we can both fit.’
I sink down so only the tops of my shoulders peek out, and the rest of me is covered by the blur of the bubbles.