Page 63 of Counting Down To You

“Adam.” I shake my head. “What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t answer, glancing between me and Leo again. His mouth is turned down, his posture stiff. Like he has caught me doing something wrong, rather than him being the one to show up completely unannounced—in fucking France, no less.

Next to me, Leo smiles—the same smile I’ve seen him use on guests. He shifts his stool so he is closer to me, our knees bumping together. An unhelpful bolt of heat travels from that point of contact to right between my thighs.

Leo holds out his hand. “Hi,” he says easily. “I’m Leo.” He makes no claim like “boyfriend,” but he does move his free arm round the back of my stool, resting on the bar. Not quite a proprietorial touch, but not far off.

“Right,” Adam says, his brow furrowed. “Hi.” He looks at me. “I heard you were working here.”

“Oh,” is all I can manage.

“Yeah. A mate and I came over this way for the day. We were going to ski back but got a bit carried away at the bar.” He grins, though it looks forced. And I remember all the times he talked about the lads’ skiing holiday, about how they would drink beers until they couldn’t stand, then hit the slopes first thing. It’s the best thing for a hangover, Lee Lee, I tell you. I wonder now if it was the skiing part that put me off, or the idea of having to get drunk with a bunch of his friends who, I have reason to know, still insist on playing drinking games then shout at you when you get the rules wrong.

“Anyway,” Adam says, with a would-be casual shrug, “just thought we’d chance it.” He jerks his head down the bar toward a friend of his. Luke? I think it’s Luke, though I’ve only met him once. He’s not looking our way, instead inspecting the cocktail menu.

“Oh,” I say again. “Well, hi.” I cannot think of a single thing to say to him. But why are you here? is what I want to ask. Why break up with me while my best friend is dying, tell me I’m no fun, then show up here, out of the blue? What do you want from this?

“Where are you staying?” Leo asks, his voice full of politeness.

Adam glances at him but addresses me. “We’re over the other side near Morgins. Just fancied a bit more of an atmosphere today.”

“Well, I can’t promise we can provide the right sort of atmosphere—but you’re welcome to stay for dinner, if you’d like? I can get you a table for two?” A clear indication that I wouldn’t be joining them.

Adam runs a hand through his hair. I used to think it was so sexy, the way he did that, making it all stick up. Now, I can see the remnants of hair gel, the effort he’s gone to in order to make it stay put under his hat. “Ah, no, you’re all right,” he says. He glances at his friend, who does the hand signal for “do you want a drink?” from down the other end of the bar. Adam shakes his head, then focuses on me. “I just wanted to say hi, really. That’s all.” He offers me one of his charming smiles. “Seemed like too good of an opportunity to miss.”

“You could have called,” I say before I can think better of it. But, really, what the hell is he thinking, showing up like this? And how has he heard I’m working here—who told him? Cal knows, but Adam and Cal aren’t exactly friends. I try to think if the hotel has been tagged in any of the Instagram posts. Quite possibly, to be fair. I have an inkling, though, of how he’d thought this would go down—because we were together three years, because I know him. He’d have thought this was so romantic, coming out to find me, in some big gesture. I’d be surprised, maybe fall into his arms. I’m not really sure after that. Was he hoping for a reconciliation, or did he just want his ego stroked?

“Aren’t you working this evening, babe?” Leo asks.

I want to snort at the “babe”—Leo is definitely not the “babe” type of guy. His lips twitch when I catch his gaze, a shared joke. But it does the trick.

“You work here?” Adam frowns. “Both of you?” The way he says both of you makes me think he already knows who Leo is. So, he has seen the photos. Seen and got annoyed enough about it to track me down. I think back to Robyn’s second challenge—objective: make Adam jealous. Mission accomplished, it seems. And there it is, that small coil of anger. He cares enough to come here, to check if I really have moved on. But not enough to stay with me, when things got tough. In my lap, I find my hands are clenching into fists and force them to relax.

“Yep,” I say, trying for breezy. Let him read into it what he likes. I realize, in this moment, that I don’t care if he’s still with Bedroom Eyes woman or if they’ve broken up. Even if he wanted to get back together, I wouldn’t say yes.

Adam shifts. It’s not exactly awkward, because Adam doesn’t do awkward, but it’s as close as he gets. “I guess I’ll see you back in London around Christmas then, Lee Lee?”

I’m not sure why I would see him at Christmas. We both live in London, but it’s not like that guarantees we’d bump into each other. I cock my head. “Did we have plans to meet up?”

Behind me, Leo’s fingers trail down my back, pinpricks of warmth following in their wake. Not for show, given Adam can’t see it, but, I think, a way to go. It takes a lot, not to lean into the light touch.

“Well, no,” Adam says, “I just thought, if you were spending it with your mum…” His voice peters out.

“I’ll be here for Christmas.” I decide not to point out that I’ll be home soon after that—better if he thinks me and Leo are a long-term thing. Because, yes, I might not care if he’s with anyone else, but that doesn’t mean I can’t feel a bit glad that he’s regretting how he treated me, does it?

“Oi, mate!” Adam’s friend shouts from the end of the bar. “We staying for a bev or what?”

“I better go,” Adam says to me, like he’s making an apology for cutting our meeting short. He leans in, as if he’s going to kiss me goodbye, but Leo stands, subtly blocking his path.

He claps Adam on the back. “Any time you’re in the area, feel free to stop in for a drink on the house. Any friend of Ali’s is a friend of mine.”

“Right,” Adam says, pink blotches gracing his cheeks. “Will do.”

Leo stays standing until Adam and his friend have left the bar, then sits back down, just as close as he was before.

“Oh my God,” I whisper. I feel a weight lift off me as I watch Adam’s retreating back. I genuinely cannot believe that just happened. “I’m so sorry,” I say. “I…thank you. When he broke up with me, it was…Well, we don’t need to rehash that. But I really, really didn’t want to have to explain anything to him, didn’t want him to have the upper hand after how he ended things.” I cut myself off when I realize I’m babbling.

Leo looks like he’s trying not to smile. “Ah, I hate to point out the obvious here, but he literally tracked you down, just so he could come and say hi. I very much think you have the upper hand.”