Holly head Slopes

Chapter four

It took him a second to process the girl who boldly called him by name. However, a smile was sent my way when he recognised me.

"Ahh, tree girl." He said.

Ouch. Tree girl?

"Abi is also what I go by." I giggled as I nervously toyed with my hands on the ordering counter.

"It's nice to properly meet you, Abi." He grinned. "What can I get you?"

"A hot chocolate with all the whipped cream and marshmallows that will fit." He nodded and turned to the machines that would hiss and make noises that put my senses on overdrive.

"Forgive me for being single-minded, but how many jobs do you have exactly?" I questioned as he squirted whipped cream on my steamy mug of chocolaty goodness.

"Just the two." He said casually. "Midway through December, the Christmas tree market gets quiet, so we get let go. Nobody gets bored of coffee, however. Or, in your case, hot chocolate." He said with a wide grin, admiring his work. I look at his creation, which was a stack of pink and white marshmallows sprinkled with cocoa powder.

If only he was like Kirk from Gilmore Girls and had every job under the sun. I wouldn't complain about seeing Myles' handsome face everywhere.

"Hey, there's people waiting." A fired-up man shouted from the queue. I had completely forgotten the other people waiting, but by his frustrated expression, he wouldn't let that happen twice.

I parted with an embarrassed smile and quickly turned around. My smooth departure was anything but! I collided with a rock-hard chest as I approached the quieter end of the cosy café.

I squealed as the hot chocolate spilt down my freshly washed white jumper! The burning only touched my skin for a second, and the stain bothered me the most. What idiot doesn't slow down when they turn a corner?

"Crap." I cursed as I assessed the damage more. My jumper was utterly ruined. I looked up to see the inconsiderate douchebag that hadn't spoken a single syllable. The said douchebag happened to be a six-foot-four, brunette male that would most likely never give me the time of day unless he hadn't literally run into me. He was a gift to the eye, but he was still yet to apologise.

"You should wear a bell." He told me.

Excuse me!

His humour was wasted on me. He soon realised that when his beautifully full lips abandoned his smirk. "I didn't see you coming."

"Clearly." I shortly replied with an eye roll. I placed my now half-empty mug on a nearby table and slipped off my formerly perfect jumper. "What is wrong with you? Did you forget to wear your glasses or forget to turn the stove off because that isn't a normal human pace?"

"I'm sorry." He finally said. "Do you want me to drive you to get another jumper?" He asked. Considering my first impression, it took me by surprise.

"And be a star in the next murder documentary?" I sarcastically asked. "No thanks, you've done quite enough."

He tutted at me and my stubborn manner. "You'll freeze just wearing that." He said, lingering his eyes on my tight-fitted top. I felt my cheeks burn up from his attention. "At least take mine."

Before I could decline his offer, his jersey-looking sweatshirt was already off his body, exposing his well-built physique. Holy moly, this man was gorgeous. He shook his dark curls and handed me my substitute jumper.

"But now you'll be cold."

My pulse wasn't prepared for the sudden spike when he smiled at me, a pearly white Hollywood-worth smile. "Don't you worry about that. Your feist has warmed me up enough." He said with a scrunched noise that highlighted his dimples. I would admire his beauty further if he didn't have such a poor attitude. "Well, I better go turn the stove off. Be careful because two more corners are coming up." He said, patting my shoulder as he walked past me. "Oh, I think the number on the napkin survived, in case that's important."

The stranger left me gobsmacked. I was attacked by the hot chocolate that I was nearly drooling over, participated in a verbal sparring match with an undeniably beautiful stranger, and now had Myles' phone number. Cabin life is not as relaxed as I thought.

Hours flew past, and the light from the bay window dimmed as the sun came down. I gave in around an hour ago when the hairs on my arms rose and finally pulled the stranger's jumper on. It was warm and smelled like the most intoxicating cologne I had ever smelt. It made me dizzy for a quick second as I sunk into its oversizedness and carried on with my surprisingly smutty hockey book.

"Honey, why haven't you been answering your phone?" My Mum asked as she came rushing down the café. I scowled and turned my phone to look at the screen. Five missed calls and ten texts notified me that my digital detox was going well.

"Sorry. I got caught up."

"It's fine. We ran into some old friends, and we're meeting in the mountain restaurant for a few drinks; grab your things."

I did as she asked and loaded my bag with my belongings. "What happened to your white jumper?" She asked as I stood up.

"Long story." I sighed and swung my bag over my shoulder. "Do we have time to change?" I asked hopefully, but by her reaction, I kissed my hopes goodbye.

"It's cute. Besides, it's only casual drinks; nobody will even notice."

***

Casual, my ass!

The mountain restaurant didn't have a single casual dresser. People were dressed in fleeced gilets and freshly pressed shirts. The women made for a good winter cover of Vogue, and there I was, standing in a stranger's jumper that seemed to resemble some sports team. The older people glanced at me, putting my attire down to what I imagine 'my generation.' I walked through the room, praying I could hide among my family and forget the whole day.

"Another Dugray conquest." A blonde girl smirked at her friend, who was dressed for summer on top but paired with snow boots. I gave her a narrowed-eyed stare as I passed.

However, she wasn't the only one. At first, I thought it was just my informality causing looks, but the whispers and points all had one thing in common: Dugray.

What the hell was a Dugray, and why was everyone talking about it?

I stood uncomfortably with a group of strangers my Grandparents couldn't stop blabbering to. The attention was all on me until the door opened, letting the cold breeze fly in. The room turned silent. So silent a pin could drop and sound like an explosion. And who was the cause?

My hot chocolate spiller!

The gawking stares from the girls, I understood; he was handsome, but the men? That left me stumped. He nodded at a few people and smiled at his female admirers. I hadn't realised I was staring until he caught my gaze and smirked at me in a way my hormones could betray me. I cleared my throat and moved my attention to the older man cracking another joke that went over my head.

"You look good with my name on your back." A deep voice whispered in my ear. My breath hitched as his fingers brushed my arm as he left me again, gobsmacked.