Lorraine Wilson - Secret Crush of a Chalet Girl:

“Of course.” Tash’s expression remained neutral.

“Don’t you want to find your prince Tash?” Sophie asked softly.

“I think … I think mine got lost somewhere, I’m not holding my breath.” Tash shrugged. “And neither should you. You need to get out there, have fun and stop thinking about romance, stop reading romance novels. They’re giving you false expectations. All it will get you is disappointment.”

“Maybe.” Sophie conceded, purely to shut Tash up. Whatever Tash said Sophie would still hold out for something extraordinary. After what she’d been through she needed something special, someone who thought her special. And if she never found him, well she’d just have to remain single.

Better no relationship than a bad relationship.

She slipped back onto her cow-hide bar stool wondering whether to head back to Chalet Repos. But if she did, one of the guest’s children would be bound to be having a don’t-want-to-go-to-bed tantrum and she’d have to smile and pretend it was okay as she cleared up the latest mess they’d created, even though she wasn’t technically on duty.

As a veteran chalet girl she knew you had to make yourself scarce during your free time or you’d fall prey to the “would you mind just’s” and “if you’ve got a sec’s”.

“So, who’s doing the Valentine’s day Speed Ski Dating event?” Lucy asked.

“Yes, I’ll be there. It was a laugh last year,” Tash said loudly, drinking her cocktail as fast as if it were orange squash.

“I won’t be going, because Matt will be out here. We’re going to be busy and it’s not as though I’m single anymore.” Amelia turned to Sophie. “How about you?”

Sophie considered. She’d never met anyone yet in all the years she’d been coming to Verbier for the winter season. But what else was there for her to do? Hang around at the chalet being lumbered with extra child-care duties, feeling sorry for herself as she cleaned chocolate fingerprints off the windows.

“I suppose.” Sophie grimaced. “Being single on Valentine’s Day isn’t much fun and I’ve got nothing better to do. I’m just not too sure you can make love happen by throwing a bunch people together and hoping they’ll pair off.”

“It is a bit random but you might meet someone.” Amelia shrugged. “It happens.”

Sophie was glad for Amelia, really she was, but there was a certain smugness about her smile that irritated her.

God, I’m being a bitch tonight.

Sophie picked up her drink, hoping it would help improve her mood and make her a little nicer.

“She’s right you know, it might happen.” Tash poked Sophie in the ribs. “Especially if you look for Mr. Now rather than Mr. Forever. You’ve got to lower your sights, Soph, have some fun.”

“Hmm,” Sophie replied noncommittally, draining her cocktail. Then she looked up, catching Luc’s sympathetic grey eyes, and a fresh flush crept up the back of her neck.

“Do a lot of people go?” Lucy asked.

“You get a good crowd.” Tash put her empty glass down on the bar. “Come on. Let’s go to The Lodge and find some nice men to buy us drinks. I’m skint.”

Sophie groaned inwardly. She hated cadging drinks, feeling obligated. Even worse she hated feeling like a piece of meat at a cattle market. What was the point of going to a hook-up bar when she didn’t want a one-night stand?

I’m twenty-five, am I getting too old for this?

She enjoyed skiing and loved Switzerland. She felt truly happy in the mountains, enjoying the sun, snow and crisp Alpine air. It had always worked out perfectly for her, given Uncle Frank’s café in the Lake District closed for the winter. Being a seasonaire suited her; that hadn’t changed. But something else had.

Maybe she could slink back to the dorm room without anyone noticing and put her headphones on to drown out any tantrum noises. If the other three were out for the evening it would give her some quiet time to read. Without interruptions.

“I’ve got a bit of a headache, I’m going back to the chalet,” she said, sliding off her stool and grabbing her bag.

Tash snorted again. “Back to Nathan?”

“Who’s Nathan?” Amelia asked, confused.

“He’s in the book she’s reading,” Tash explained. “But he’s not going to keep her warm at night, is he? I’d take a real Pierre over a fictional Nathan any day, wouldn’t you?”

“I’ve got my electric blanket to keep me warm, thanks,” Sophie replied.

“And Pierre would probably hog the duvet.” Lucy smiled at Sophie in a way that made Sophie feel maybe she had an ally after all.

Sophie recognised his voice from where she stood in the queue for a green armband. As if she could ever forget it. Surreptitiously she slunk to the back of the queue and edged away, hoping he wouldn’t see her, dread pumping through her body.

He probably doesn’t even remember you.

She propped her skis up against a wall and leant against it herself for a minute, glad to feel the solid concrete behind her, even though it was freezing. Why was she even doing the Valentine Ski Dating event again? All so she could meet more jerks like Thomas?

She stared up at the snowy peaks and startlingly blue sky, scenery she normally loved but right now it couldn’t distract her from the memory of another day in a queue for the chair-lift, imprinted into her brain with vivid clarity. It’d been the morning after her hideous mistake, her experiment at trying to be like everyone else, doing what everyone else was doing.

Having fun.

Except it hadn’t been fun. Not even remotely.

Sophie squeezed her eyes tight shut as though she could squeeze the memory out of her mind. But it wasn’t that easy and the wave of remembered humiliation passed over her, drenching her with fresh embarrassment at the memory. She couldn’t stop the words from flooding her thoughts too – the words Thomas had used to describe their night together to his friends the next day in the queue for the ski lift.

‘Always go for the overweight ones, lads. Fat girls try harder in bed.’

It’d been two years ago but he might as well have just said it. She didn’t know what had been worse, those words or the look of pity in the eyes of his friend who had seen her first and had belatedly nudged Thomas to shut him up. Discovering afterwards that he and his friends held No Standards Wednesdays competitions, to see who could bag the biggest “minger” had been the ultimate humiliation. Although she couldn’t be sure they’d done it that particular night they’d hooked up… Still the suspicion was enough to make her hate Thomas like she’d never hated another human being before. She was angry with herself too, for imagining a handsome, semi-professional skier had fancied her.

What really rankled was that she hadn’t even been overweight, not medically anyway, although maybe by Verbier trustafarian standards. Technically she’d been a healthy weight for her height for almost the first time in years that season. But in two sentences he’d swept away any achievement she’d felt in her weight loss. It seemed she was always destined to be the fat girl. No matter how much weight she lost after that, a little bit of her always felt like the fat girl inside.

Tash had been wrong, it’d been two years since she’d had sex, not a year. There’d been a sweet guy she’d been friendly with last season but all they’d ever done was cuddled. He’d never tried to take it further and she’d been too scared of rejection to push it. God forbid she be seen to “try harder” again. Now she was afraid of trying at all. If she fancied anyone she kept it quiet.

Opening her eyes again she scanned the crowd in front of her. There was no sign of Thomas and his loud friends. It was safe to go ahead.