He hauled himself into his room, engulfed by a horrible sense of déjà vu as he sat wearily on the bed, not caring that his trunks were wet and soaking through the sheets. He could still sense her presence in the corridor. She was so very temptingly close.
Juliet, think of Juliet.
He collapsed back on the bed, staring up at the dark ceiling. Usually he was confident his moral compass was in good working order but right now it pointed in only one direction – towards Amy.
He’d have to find a way of overcoming this. He had to do the right thing by Juliet; he’d made a commitment. They were getting married in just over a week. Everything had been arranged and Juliet would be on her way to Verbier soon, after her hen weekend in Ibiza. Maybe once Juliet was here it would help him focus?
He cursed and squeezed his eyes shut but all he could see was Amy in her silver bikini. She was looking more womanly since university and the extra curves suited her. Why wasn’t she teaching though? Her answer troubled him. Something had clearly gone wrong, but what?
He’d been so sure he was doing the right thing, setting Amy free to follow her dreams. And once he’d got to Saudi and seen the kind of enclosed life on a compound she’d have been confined to he was sure of it. They could only have gone together if they’d married and his dad had been so persuasive… they were too young and Amy wouldn’t have been able to start her teacher training; she’d have ended up resenting him.
I think that ship’s already sailed.
He grimaced. All those arguments had seemed so reasonable. He’d trotted them out so many times he’d learnt to crush his longing for her. Of course he’d missed her. There was a part of him that wanted her with him in Saudi and sod the consequences. But that was selfish and you had to make decisions with your head, not your heart. Didn’t you?
He looked up but there was no answer from the dark ceiling. Not that he really believed his dad was up there, somewhere, listening and about to dispense ghostly wisdom. No, this time he was very much on his own. Ridiculously, the only person he wanted to talk to was the one person he couldn’t – Amy.
She was just the other side of that door and he couldn’t go to her. Wasn’t that the funniest thing? Yep, practically hysterical. It certainly made him want to howl.
Of course he didn’t, instead he forced himself get up off the bed and head into the en-suite to shower. Then he’d pick up a book and hope the words could drive the thoughts from his mind until he was so tired he’d fall asleep. A dreamless sleep. He couldn’t bear to dream of Amy again.
After all he’d done this before. He knew how to make himself do things he didn’t want to, it was part of life, part of growing up. Crushing his desires was almost second nature.
And this was the biggest test of all.
Rejected didn’t come close to covering how Amy was feeling. She lay on her bunk, staring at the ceiling and glad it wasn’t her turn to cook tonight. Every word Josh had said to her since he arrived seemed to be running a continuous loop in her head and she couldn’t find a pause button.
Some things were hard to stomach. Josh had actually flinched when she’d reached out to him. Flinched, as though she had a contagious disease and would infect him just by touch. A fresh wave of humiliation swept through her as she gazed miserably up at a lone cobweb in the corner of the ceiling.
Spending the day on the slopes hadn’t been the usual effective distraction. Simultaneous hope and dread that she might run into Josh had plagued her and the blue skies and sunshine failed to impact her mood.
Why on earth do I want to see him? Am I a glutton for punishment?
But she did; she wanted to see him even if it hurt, even though it meant not only opening up the wounds but emptying an entire saltcellar over them.
I still can’t believe he’s getting married. I wonder what she’d like…
“Are you ready to talk about it yet?” Tash’s voice from the opposite top bunk broke through Amy’s thoughts.
Amy turned over in her bunk to glance at Tash. She lay on her front, propped up by the elbows, an issue of a German fashion magazine spread out on the pillow in front of her. It was worrying that she hadn’t even heard Tash come into the room.
“It’s too…humiliating,” Amy groaned. “I really, really made an idiot of myself.”
“I doubt it,” Tash said cheerfully. “It was a good move kissing Matt. You should’ve seen Josh’s face. I thought he might fly at Matt - he certainly wanted to.”
Something flickered inside Amy, the faintest spark of hope desperately seeking oxygen. She fought the impulse to fantasise and give that hope fuel.
Josh doesn’t want you. He’s getting married. You have to walk away.
“That wasn’t what I was talking about.” Amy turned over and buried her head into her pillow. Really she wanted to crawl under the duvet, pull it up over her head and never come out.
Ever.
The humiliation still tormented her to such a degree it felt like a physical presence in her chest, constricting her breathing and choking her. Josh had been oh, so close to her. She’d practically been able to feel the warmth from his body and his heart beating beneath her fingertips.
Her body had responded with a physical recognition and she’d reached out without thinking. Without even knowing what she was asking for.
I just wanted to make contact but he couldn’t even let me have that.
“So, what were you talking about then? Tell Tash, you know it’s for the best.” Tash proclaimed loudly.
Amy brought her head up from the pillow, she had to stop remembering how it felt, being so close to Josh. Nothing was going to happen. It couldn’t happen so she needed to get over it. End of.
“I sort of, well, touched him. Josh I mean,” Amy said, finding it hard to explain the intimacy and strangeness of their corridor encounter.
“You touched him?” Tash shrieked with laughter.
“Ssh,” Amy hissed. “Everyone will hear you.”
“So, where did you touch him?” Tash asked, smirking.
“Just on his chest, and I didn’t really mean to. God, you have got such a dirty mind.” Amy rolled her eyes.
“So what’s the big deal?” Tash shrugged.
“He flinched away from me like…like I disgusted him.” Amy struggled to hold the tears back. A few escaped and rolled down the side of her face onto the pillowcase.
“You want him back? Because I thought you wanted revenge. Getting him back is a whole different set of advice. Maybe I should hold off on the itching powder then?” Tash asked.
“Tash, I told you I didn’t want to do that stuff!” Amy exclaimed.
“I’m joking.”
“Hilarious.” Amy sat up on her bunk, draping her legs over the edge and swinging them to and fro. It must be so easy to be like Tash, to be so certain of everything and not give a damn what anyone thought.
“Well, I’m not sure what I wanted or want now to be honest, maybe a bit of both. I’m not sure it could even work out, us being a couple.”
She wiped the rogue tears away with the back of her hand.
Imagine if they were back together. She’d torment herself wondering if he was about to pull the rug out from underneath her feet again, bringing her life crashing down around her.
After all he’d done it once before. So how could she ever be sure he wouldn’t do it again? There was only one answer to that.
She couldn’t.
“But you want him to want you regardless, don’t you?” Tash’s intelligent eyes focused on her. She was wasted as a chalet girl, she should work as an interrogator. She had ways and means of winkling information out of you.
“Of course.” Amy shrugged ruefully. “No one likes being rejected. You know I still can’t believe he’s getting married.”
“Because he’s still so young, you mean?” Tash said.
No, because he should’ve married me.
“I know this is going to sound silly but you’ve heard those people
who say ‘I knew I was going to marry him the moment I saw him’? Well, I was one of them. Don’t laugh! I really believed it.” Amy hesitated.
“Really?” Tash asked, eyeing her quizzically.
“Yes.” Amy nodded. When she’d met Josh that day in the university bar, her heart had gone into free-fall. “Shows how wrong I was, eh? He’s marrying someone else.”
“But you didn’t carry on believing that after you broke up, surely?”
Amy hesitated. “I suppose, deep down, I thought maybe one day we’d get back together and magically we’d get over everything that happened and…I so need to get over myself, don’t I?”
“You need to get over him you mean.” Tash threw her a packet of facial wipes. “Now clean your face up, I’ve got some serum we can put under your eyes to bring down the puffiness and then I can do your make-up for you if you like. Look fabulous and adopt the ‘fuck-you’ attitude.”
“Like you do, you mean?” Amy took one of the wipes and started on her eyes. Just wiping away the tears felt like a good start.
No more tears.
Amy could practically feel her spine stiffening. Tash was right, she couldn’t hide away forever and why should she have to? This was her Christmas too and she had a job to do.
“It works for me.” Tash shrugged. “Do you have any better ideas?”
CHAPTER FOUR
Josh knew he looked a wreck. No sleep and a monumental hangover could do that to you. The book hadn’t worked. In the end he’d turned to Matt’s bottle of duty-free vodka in a futile attempt to keep the demons at bay.
Because boy, had they done a good job tormenting him ever since he’d locked eyes on Amy again. They’d really gone on the offensive after she’d reached out to him in the hallway. He knew that just one step closer, one touch, one word more and they’d have ended up in bed together.
I’ve done the right thing. Of course I have.
He was so not the guy to have a meaningless fling on his stag weekend.
As if sex could ever be just a meaningless fling with Amy.
As if summoned by his thoughts of her Amy breezed into the living room, her hair glossy, curls bouncing as she walked. Her skin looked flawless. In fact she looked beautiful. Amazing.
She turned in his direction and her gaze passed over him, hard as flint and as freezing cold as the sub-zero temperatures outside.
It took all his self-control to remain impassive. His jaw tightened with the effort and his fingers itched to reach out and touch her, to recall her to him. Because she felt miles away.
This was hell. Absolute hell.
If only I’d found her when I came back to England. Things might’ve been different.
But they weren’t and it was utterly useless to think like that. He was marrying Juliet and that was that. He’d made his proverbial bed and now he had to lie in it. With Juliet.
Just thinking of beds made him remember Amy lying in his bed at uni, her naked limbs tangled with his as she giggled. She was always giggling about something back then and her uncomplicated joy and relentless energy had been one of the things he loved about her.
He glanced over to where she was gathering placemats and cutlery and laying the table with quiet concentration, her face blank. No smile in sight, never mind a giggle.
He badly wanted to make her laugh again, to find out what had gone wrong for her. Her explanation about temping didn’t add up; she’d been so excited about teacher training.
He walked over to the table. “Would you like some help?”
“That’s okay thanks,” she replied stiffly, her gaze lowering to the fork she held, turning it over as though inspecting it for smears. “I’m paid to do this and it’s your holiday, remember?”
The words felt loaded, like missiles designed to wound.
Yes, you’re on your stag weekend, remember?
“I don’t mind.” He picked up some of the mats and began putting them in place around the table before she could argue with him.
“So, you’re getting married.” Amy’s voice sounded cold but he noticed her fingers trembled and she dropped the napkins.
“Er, yes.” He grabbed them for her and put them onto the table. What should he do? Ignore the trembling and not mention it, was that the kindest thing to do?
Evidence that she wasn’t as cool as she pretended to be cheered him up, but also worried him.
“So, are your parents coming over for the wedding? Where will they be staying?” she asked brightly. “It will be really nice to see them again.”
All the temporary positivity drained from him as quickly as though he were a bath and Amy had pulled the plug. He opened his mouth to speak but it felt disconnected from his brain.
She doesn’t know.
“You haven’t heard then? I did try to let you know. I had thought you might come…” His voice choked up and he couldn’t say the word, it still felt too raw.
“I haven’t heard what?” She whispered, her eyes widening with anxiety. She stepped closer. “What’s wrong?”
Her features softened and he glimpsed the Amy he remembered, the best friend and confidante. The Amy he missed.
“I’m afraid they both passed away Amy, a year ago, in a motorway pile up. Dad died at the scene of the accident and Mum two days later in hospital.” It was odd how easily the words tripped off his tongue. He still felt as detached from those words as he had every other time he’d had to deliver the news to friends and relatives. As though a part of him still refused to believe it ever happened.
“Oh.” Her face blanched white as snow and she swayed.
He stepped forward to hold her and guided her to a chair to sit down. “I’m sorry to have to give you the bad news.”
“I’m so, so sorry Josh, that’s awful, I know how close you were to them.”
Josh just about managed to nod in acknowledgement, feeling close to coming undone. Hearing her say his name, her pity…it stirred him more than he could bear. He looked down to see his hands still holding hers, her slender fingers curled into his palms. It felt so natural he hadn’t even noticed they were still touching.
I don’t want to let go.
He had to let go whether he wanted to or not. So why wouldn’t his fingers obey? And why didn’t his feet take a step back, away from the temptation zone?
“Is everything okay?”
Matt’s voice behind Josh made him jump. He reluctantly let go of Amy’s hands and stepped back even though every bit of him wanted to hold her and comfort her. She’d been very close to his mother before the split and she’d spent lots of holiday time at home in Devon with them.
Their last Christmas together was one of his best memories. Amy had got Dad to wear a paper hat from a cracker and had forced them all to play Pictionary. He could almost see the flickering fire and hear the laughter. Amy had flung her arms around him when she’d seen the antique silver hare brooch he’d saved up to buy her, after she’d admired it in a shop window.
He struggled to compose himself and couldn’t look at Matt. He hadn’t told the lads about Amy because these things had a habit of spreading. Once they knew, there’d be no keeping it from Juliet. And this week was difficult enough without having to deal with that.
“What’s going on?” Matt’s tone was hard and unfriendly. “Why is Amy crying? What have you done to upset her?”
Josh sighed heavily. It seemed he had no option. He had to tell him.
“I was just telling her about my parents.” He turned to Matt, coolly staring him down. “Amy knew them personally because, well, we used to be a couple.”
Matt stared at him and then turned to Amy as though seeking confirmation.
She nodded. “He’s telling the truth, he hasn’t done anything to upset me. Well not today anyway.”
The muttered barb at the end of her sentence wounded him as it had no doubt been intended to. Had he really hurt her that badly?
I had to do it the way I did. I did it for you Amy…
&nbs
p; “Right.” Matt’s hard gaze flickered between the two of them and rested on Josh. “Can I have a word mate?”
Josh shrugged. “I don’t know. Are you okay Amy?”
She looked up at him, startled. “Um, sure.”
He didn’t believe her. There was a blankness to her expression that made him feel unutterably sad.
I want to make her smile again.
Matt propelled him none too gently down the corridor towards his room and once in, he shut the door firmly behind them.
“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Matt asked.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Josh tried to bite back the full force of his irritation. It wasn’t fair to take out all his frustration on Matt.
“I’m doing my job as your best man.” Matt was breathing heavily. Josh had never seen him this angry before in all the years they’d worked together. “I saw you holding hands and staring into Amy’s eyes. The chalet girls don’t come as part of the ski holiday package you know.”
Huh.
That was a bit rich considering Matt had been quite happy to take things further with Amy himself.
Josh didn’t know what to say. How could he say it meant nothing? If he started lying now where would it all end?
“As I said, we used to be an item, for about three years.”
Matt sighed heavily and dropped down onto the bed. “Shit, I’ve just realised. She was trying to make you jealous when she kissed me.”
“I don’t know.” Josh shook his head. “That doesn’t sound like the kind of thing Amy would do. Not the Amy I knew anyway.”
But she’s changed.
Then he was hit by a terrible thought, what if it had been him who’d changed her?
“She did apologise.” Matt leant back on the bed. “Still, it’s not great for the old ego, just as well Amelia seems more amenable. But we’re going off topic. You know Juliet would go mad if she walked in and found you staring into another girl’s eyes, and not without good reason. Hey, don’t she and the other girls check into Hotel Paradis today? Have you heard from her?”
“Erm, not sure, I haven’t checked.” Josh pulled his mobile out of his pocket. “No, but she did say she wouldn’t contact me before the wedding. She didn’t want me bothering her while she was on her spa break with the girls. Phones were banned, anyway.”
Revenge of a Chalet Girl Page 4
