day I'll wake up and my hair won't look like a rat's nest and my face won't have a trail of dried spit running down on one side of it, and my breath will be minty fresh without brushing.

And I really wish today had been that day.

Because lying very, very close to me was Archer.

When I'd thought about how unlikely it was that either of us would invade each other's space— the bed being that huge— I must have forgotten the tiny little detail that I, Jolie Dubois, practically did somersaults in bed. So there I lay, spread across the entire bed, arms and legs wide.

I lifted my arm from his chest as carefully as possibly, really not wanting for him, or anyone for that matter, to see me in this state. Shocking, I know.

Easing myself off the bed, which was easier said than done on a bed so comfortable I just wanted to snuggle up in it again, I tiptoed towards the bathroom door. I heard the bed shift behind me.

I turned slightly, breathing a sigh of relief when I saw Archer had simply rolled over, away from me.

I shut the door behind me as I set about not looking such a mess. Once again, easier said than done.

***

"How is it out there, Martin?" Autumn asked when he nudged open the front door, hands full of food shopping bags. He had on his winter attire, managing to look frost-bitten and cozy at the same time.

"Perfect," he said, simply.

Autumn clapped her hands in glee at the table. "I say we get out there!"

"Noah and I are going to the slopes," Archer said, waving a little half-heartedly in our general direction, already on the move.

Autumn made a sound of protest, effectively making him stop in his tracks... literally. "You will do no such thing." She was pointing at me now. "Take Jolie to the shack, and get her some skiis."

He made no expression but by his slumped shoulders and the slight ticking in the jaw, I could tell he was not all too pleased.

We got there, and geared me up.

The place was pretty obscure for a place hundreds of these people must go, and it wasn't all that much to look at. It was tucked behind a row of trees and looked like any other oversized shed I'd ever seen.

They had gone to give me the longer skiis, but Archer was firm when he told them no.

"She's never done it before," he told the burly man behind the counter, in front of a wall of snowboards and helmets and gloves. I stared, longingly, at the gloves; my own Asda ones were beginning to make my fingers feel numb and be close to falling off. "Throw in some gloves, too," Archer said.

"No problem."

"Thank you," I said to Archer as he carried the stuff out, own gear included. "You know that I hadn't done it before?"

Maybe my lying was lacking, or maybe Archer was just particularly perseverant.

He was watching me step a little too widely over a rock in the path. My foot caught it and I went flying. "A wild guess," he muttered. "Let's go find the others."

***

"What are you?" I all but screeched. "Olympians?!"

Autumn laughed, watching as Noah unhooked his skiis and carried them up to where we were stood.

"Practice," she said. "But you should see Archer. He's the real deal." She was whispering, almost like she didn't want him to hear such fine press. I understood, in all honesty, Archer's head getting bigger would not be fun for anyone involved.

"She's not wrong," Archer said, coming up behind her. "Wiped the floor with her every year for what? Five years?" She cringed.

"Might have been six, thinking about it," Noah said, hand on his chin in 'thought.'

"You might be right there," he said. "Do remind us Aut."

"Alright, alright," she sighed with an eye roll. "You're better than me at skiing." For a split second, he seemed victorious— even if it was only by the smug look flickering beneath his eyes. "But do I really need to tell Jolie about the first time we came here?"

His face changed. It seem to hang, mouth open slightly and eyes a little wide.

"No, no," he said, quickly. A little too quickly. "You really don't need to."

"I want to know!"

"Well, you see—"

And then Archer had me by the arm and was leading me away. "We'll meet you at the restaurant in about an hour!"

"Archer?"

He made a sound which sounded like he could be 'what' but his cost was done up all the way and the muffled sound could have been anything.

I went on, anyway. "Can you let go now?"

He stopped and turned, looking down at where his hand was grabbing mine, almost like he had to see it to realise. Within a moment, he'd let go.

"Beginner's slopes are this way."

We got there in no time, and Archer made no delay in telling me how to put everything on properly.

"I am pulling," I let out, yanking at the shoes I needed to wear to clip onto the skis.

"Well you're not pulling hard enough."

I glared at the snow, my gaze hot enough to melt it.

Groaning, I lay against the ground. "I can't do it."

I heard him sigh, and then some movement.

"Stop being such a baby," he said, by my feet. He made quick work of hoisting the shoes on, and tapped my knees. I sat up, promptly. "A one," he said, attaching one to the ski. "And a two," he said, repeating it for the other foot. "Was that so hard, whinge bucket?"

"Shut up," I muttered as he pulled me to my feet.

He parroted me under his breath.

"Stand like this," he demonstrated, legs a short distance apart hands by his side. I did as I was told, not very enthusiastically I'll admit, though. "And bend your knees." Again, I copied him. "Lean forward a bit."

I looked to how close we were to the slope, us teetering at the top of it.

"I'll fall."

"You'll be fine," he said, rolling his eyes. "Look I'll hold onto you, okay?" His was behind me and his hands were on my hips, strangely intimated despite the multitudinous layers of clothing separating our skin. "Now lean forward."

I did so. Why was I trusting Archer again?

"Was that so hard?" He questioned, still holding onto me as I leant forward.

"Don't be an arse, Archer."

"Must I remind you what position we're in, Jolie?" He said, giving my hips a small squeeze. "I could quite easily let go."

Oh fuck.

"Indeed," he said.

"I said that out loud?"

A group of school kids suddenly joined us at the top, snickering amongst each other at me, far older than them, yet needing help like a baby. One by one, they flew down the slope, winding down the slope like pros.

I don't think I've ever been more embarrassed.

"How humiliating," I muttered.

"Come on," he said, nudging us forward.

"No, no, no, no," I was saying, over and over, leaning back into him to try and get away.

"Just trust me," he said. "I'm right here."

I didn't really have time to solidify my trust in him because no sooner had I given a small nod, we were going pummelling down the slope. Okay, maybe not pummelling but moving far faster than we had been when stationary. Obviously, you dunce.

"Watch your arse, Jolie," Archer said into my ear, a little strained.

I straightened slightly, so that my derrière was no longer pushing into his frontal area.

Thank the high heavens he was behind me, and so couldn't see my face blush crimson. At least if it wasn't gone by the time we reached the bottom, I could blame it on the biting cold. Or better yet, keep my helmet on for the rest of the day.

"Sorry about that," I said, gesturing to where my arse has been, biting my lip in embarrassment. (I'd decided to take the helmet off, which was proving to be a bit of a mistake considering my hair was now a bigger mess than it had been this morning.)

He smiled slightly. "It's a—" he flicked his gaze to the right, where all the school kids were standing, watching us.

I didn't know I could get redder, but I, undoubtedly, was.

Archer laughed, tucking my head into his shoulder to shield me, chest vibrating. Once they'd lost interest, he pulled me away to look at me.

"Jesus Christ that was funny."

"Maybe for you," I huffed. "I'm even more embarrassed."

Still amused, he bent down and began taking my shoes off of the skis. "You'll probably never see them again so I wouldn't fret about it."

I 'mmhm'ed. "You sound like Miles."

His hands paused on my foot. "What happened between you two?"

"It's just this whole fake 'relationship' is not as easier as I thought it'd be. Sometimes I just want to tell someone, just to get it off my chest."

"Jolie, you can't."

"Yes, I know that," I said, picking up the skis so he wouldn't have to. "It's just not easy juggling it all."

"I get that," he said, nodding understandingly. After a pause, he said, "Autumn's suspecting something."

I hummed. "Yeah, I had a feeling she was. What do you want to do about it?"

He ran his fingers through his hair. It was oddly a bit of a mess, a drastic difference from his usual pristine style... not that I was complaining. There was something alluring about his effortless beauty.

"We just have to be a bit more obvious, I suppose," he said at last. "In front of people, I mean."

"Isn't that more suspicious?"

He shrugged, staring at me with those striking blue eyes, seemingly to glow amidst the snow surrounding us. "Worth a shot."

***

We got up to the cafe at last.

Noah was stood there, head leaning towards the girl he was talking to. She looked about ready to collapse— cheeks a vibrant red and laughing shakily. I wasn't surprised the six foot two model-looking spanish guy had this affect on her. Hello, she was human after all.

I grinned as Archer rolled his eyes.

Noah was always 'getting around' at Attwood, sneaking off to his latest fling who he would refuse to disclose anything about, no matter how much I prodded. I assumed it was a different girl each time. It's not like he was short on takers.

"There you are!" He called over the girl's head. It was only when we were right in front of them did she detach her longing gaze from his face and abdomen, his shirt riding up as he waved at us. She clearly wasn't opposed to feasting her eyes on his defined, tanned skin.

We chose a table and the girl, who I now realised to be from our school, sat back down with her friends. They giggled at her, changing glances in our direction.

"Where's crab cake?"

As I shrugged, Archer cut in, "She went to lunch with Jacques."

Noah's eyebrows shot up. To be honest, I was a little surprised, too, because she usually either rejected every male offer on account of 'not being interested'— other than that Bentley who didn't get any further than the ballroom— or on 'not having time.' I was glad she was finally letting her hair down.

"Who's that then?" He asked, looking out the window. I expected he was smiling, maybe trying to spot them so he could poke fun at her a bit later. As he turned, his expression was hard, unreadable.

"Some ski instructor," Archer answered, eyes on his phone.

With Noah's one eighty degree switch in mood and Archer being more interested in the emails he was replying to on his phone, we slipped into silence. Our orders came, the girl taking her time to rest her eyes on each of the boys. I shrugged away the little twinge I felt in the bottom of my stomach when her hazel eyes found Archer and when she took his order, she was sure to be close, very close.

I wasn't necessarily annoyed. I mean, have you seen him? But, I found myself feeling not jealous, but irked, yeah irked, that she would be so blatant in front of me. How is she supposed to know? I tried telling myself. It didn't ease me being irked all that much, though. Not jealous.

"Babe," I said, resting my hand on his thigh. I don't really know why I suddenly had the confidence to do it, only that as she handed me my food, she was able to see the action. "Food's here, put your phone down."

His leg had twitched under my hand, but other than that, he made no show in being uncomfortable or shocked. He looked at me, eyes questioning but remained silent. Nodding, he slid his phone into his jacket pocket.

Noah was too busy to reciprocate the flirting the waitress now put on him, realising with a small twitch of embarrassment that Archer was mine. Holy fuck. Possessive much.

She took the hint when he gave monosyllable answers and went about her duties.

As soon as he'd finished his plate, Noah was up. "I'll meet you at the house." And he was off, strides strong and graceful as he disappeared out the door.

"How did you know about the ski instructor?" I asked Archer at last.

"I saw her on the way here, on the lift," he said.

How had I not noticed?

"And you knew his name how?"

"I'd seen his name label when he was with those kids," he said.

The chatter around us was loud, so I leaned in.

"You remember everyone's names or something?" I asked, pitting a fork full of food in my mouth. God, it was good.

"Comes in handy with a business." Was his simple answer.

I shrugged as if to say fair enough.

He didn't look like he was going to mention the whole thigh touching thing, so I took it upon myself.

"Sorry if I overstepped," I said. "Before, I mean."

He looked down at where my hand had been, me now realising just how close it was to... well, you know.

He smirked. "No problem, darling," he said. "Just couldn't help yourself."

"Gross," I said, pulling my face into one of disgust. Fake or not I couldn't quite tell. "It's just the girl—"

"So you were jealous?" Again, with the smirking.

I scoffed. "You wish." Don't blush, don't blush, don't blush.

He was close, his breath on my face. "Don't worry, Jolie." He leant further forward, still, until his lips were almost touching my ear. "I'm all yours."

I stood up. "Better get going."

God, could I be any more obvious?"

I could hear him laughing behind me as I made my way to the door.