I love it.
After the disaster that was last night—the drunk man who tried to drag me out of the bar while rambling God knows what—it’s exactly what I need.
Hunter stepped in before it could become something worse.
And I don’t feel remotely sorry for what he did to him.
He lost his temper again.
But that man had every intention of taking what he wanted regardless of whether I was willing to give it.
And if it hadn’t been me, it could just as easily have been another woman.
We ended up going back to the chalet alone. The others disappeared somewhere in the chaos after they spotted those men at our table, and we never regrouped.
We took a taxi back.
By the time we arrived, the place was quiet. Whether nobody was home or everyone had already retreated to their rooms, I couldn’t say.
Hunter slept in my bed.
For all the distance we’re supposed to keep, we’ve somehow reached the point where we’re sharing one.
After breakfast this morning, we headed up to the slopes. We rented skis, well, most of us did. Adelaide and Isaak opted for snowboards.
I adjust my woollen hat, tug my goggles onto my forehead, and attempt to get my hair under control.
I glance at Hunter.
He’s watching me.
“Come on,” Adelaide calls before pushing off down the red slope on her snowboard.
Isaak follows immediately and, within seconds, falls into place beside her.
A laugh escapes me as I push off on my skis.
I sense Hunter behind me at first, but it doesn’t take long before he’s right beside me.
He’s an exceptionally good skier.
We spend the next while making our way up and down the slope with Adelaide and Isaak.
We lost the Bellanti sisters, Arlo, and Milo after the very first run.
By the time we reach the base of the mountain again, I’m already heading back towards the lifts.
Just as I think about them, I spot Ophelia a short distance away, her cheeks pink from the cold, with Arlo standing tall and stoic at her back as they wait in line.
We end up taking the same lift up.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this view,” I say as I tug off one glove with my teeth, pull out my phone, and snap a few photos of the snow covered pines below.
“Neither will I,” Ophelia says with a soft sigh.
Once at the top, we slide off and make our way towards the runs.
I pause at the lip of the slope, look over my shoulder, and shoot Ophelia a small smirk.
