I have the mind of a dirty old man.

Wait, let me explain that. The thing is, I like girls. I like girls a lot. So if I’m out somewhere and there’s a good looking girl nearby, I’m going to notice her. I’m going to look. I’m not going to be a sleaze about it. I’m not going to cat-call or feel her up or make a big show of looking her up and down; but I am going to notice. And sometimes, when I catch myself looking, when I stop talking in the middle of a sentence because I got distracted by the cute girl walking by, when I reflect on just how many girls I notice… I shake myself mentally and think, girl, you are a dirty old man.

So I like girls. So what? There are worse things a person can like.

The point to my rambling – if there is one at all – is that if an attractive woman is nearby, I’m likely to sit up and take notice. So when I’m working behind the bar, serving drinks and snacks and giving advice on the best ski runs to try out, I’m people watching as well. And when I saw her, a cute little brunette with a massive smile and eyes that draw you in, I definitely took notice. She was off to the side with a large group of friends, squished into the couches around a table. I was on the early evening shift, so the place still had that quiet, relaxed atmosphere that came with that time of day; groups who were grabbing a hot drink after their last run, enjoying the warmth before heading off to change for dinner.

She was one of three who eventually made their way to the bar to order an assortment of teas, coffees, and hot chocolates. She smiled sweetly, politely as I took the order, seeming so much quieter than she had been only moments before, when her laughter had rung through the room, loud and contagious. I smiled back; a restrained, professional smile. Flirting can be good harmless fun, but I learnt long ago that there was a time and a place for everything – and this was neither the time nor the place, not with this girl who was as small as a deer and looked likely to spook just as easy. So I restrained myself as I handed over her hot chocolate, ignoring the feel of her fingers as they brushed mine, and the interesting colour of her eyes. I watched as they walked away and sighed inwardly at the recognition that there was no chance with that one – regardless of how cute she might be – and turned my attention to the next customer.

“Excuse me.” The voice floated towards me a few minutes later, clear yet softly-spoken. Her smile was timid, curling gently at the sides without revealing any teeth. “I’m sorry to bother you, we were just wondering if we could get some extra sugar?”

Swallowing the urge to make a cheesy pun about being sweet enough already, I gestured towards the condiments station. “Of course, Ma’am. Anything you need should be right over here.” Her eyes followed my hand as her cheeks reddened. “Oh, right. So-sorry.” she stammered as she hastened away, grabbing a handful of sugar packets before scurrying back to her table. She sunk into the couch and drooped forward until her head touched her knees, the picture of humiliation. I turned away and made myself busy before any of her friends could look up and see the smile creeping across my face.

So she was… interested? Or was I just reading too much into it, and she was painfully shy, and actually embarrassed that her question had appeared pointless? Either seemed possible.

I kept her in the corner of my eye as I continued my shift. Was it my imagination, or was she looking towards me more often than could be explained by coincidence? Were her friends looking as well?

When the time came, I made sure I was the one to approach the table and clear away the dishes. One of the group, a guy with tousled hair and a stubbled face that gave him that ‘just fell out of bed’ look, shot me a wink and a grin. “Here, we were just talking about you.” Quiet girl threw him a look before her eyes flicked involuntarily towards me, then down to her hands. I raised an eyebrow in question. “Ooh, sorry, I’m being rude, aren’t I? Let me introduce myself. I’m James, and this here is Blake, that’s Stephanie…” and around the circle he went, marking each friend by name, until “…and this is Mia, next to her is…”

Mia’s eyes came up to meet mine. Her face was expressionless, but as she met my gaze, without looking away, a tiny but genuine smile crept across her lips. Small as it was, it was the kind of smile that crept inside your chest and filled you with warmth, enticing you to smile back, radiating happiness and friendship and connection. It filled her strange, multi-hued eyes, making them glow, and turning her face from merely pleasing to undeniably gorgeous.

I’m sure my heart skipped a beat.

“So…” James was continuing, now that he had finished with his litany of names, “we were wondering – and I apologise for being so forward – but we were wondering, which one of us do you fancy the most? Out of Blake and myself, that is.” Mia’s eyebrows raised a fraction before she bit her lip and dropped her head in an effort to hide what looked like a strange mixture of embarrassment and amusement. I forced myself to turn my attention towards the two charmers who were awaiting a response to their question, well aware that is was a charade put on for Mia’s benefit, a way to gain information while keeping her out of the line of fire. “Sorry, gents.” I responded with a wry grin as I added their bugs to my tray, “You’re both very attractive, but I can’t say either of you is quite my type.”

“Ooh, shot down!” giggled one of the girls, whose name I had already forgotten. James shrugged in an easy way, like a duck rolling water off his back. “You can’t blame a man for trying. Can I ask though, if neither of us fine specimens fits up to your standards – what is your type?” His eyes darted sideways, but Mia was still staring resolutely at her lap.

“Oh, you know. Smaller. More petite. Longer hair. Less stubble. No Y chromosome.” I winked at him as I collected the last plate and headed back to the bar, laughing silently. Where would the world be without interfering friends?

When it came time to settle the bill, of course it was Mia who approached the register with everyone’s cash balanced between her hands. “I’m sorry about my friends” she mentioned as she awkwardly transferred the money to me. “James just doesn’t know when to stop talking, sometimes.”

I smiled as I counted the change into the machine, trying to put her at ease. “It’s not a problem. I’m used to it. That sort of thing tends to happen a lot when you work in hospitality. And it gets much worse later in the evening, when the alcohol comes out!” I closed the drawer and tore off the receipt. “There is one thing, though…” I added as I leant forward against the bar, holding the receipt out towards her. She held out her hand just far enough to grasp the end of the receipt lightly, without pulling it away from me.

“Yes?” her eyes were on mine again, her features emotionless as she waited for a response.

“Well… I didn’t get to hear what your type is.”

Bad move. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes dropped as she tugged the receipt from between my fingers. “I don’t have… I mean… if you’re asking… because I’m not…” she gave an awkward laugh as she avoided looking at me.

“I’m sorry, my mistake. Please, forget I said anything. I didn’t mean to cause offence.”

“No, you didn’t… I mean…” She stood awkwardly in front of the cash register, looking for all the world like she didn’t want to be there, but as though she didn’t want to leave either.

“Really. It’s ok.” I smiled in what I hoped was a reassuring way. She nodded to the floor, then turned and walked away, leaving me feeling rather awkward and confused. I guess I misjudged that situation. Badly.

Suddenly I was glad to be on the early shift. Working in a ski resort, an early shift is usually a drag since it cuts into the daylight hours, taking away from skiing time. Everyone prefers the late shift – ski all day and work til late night. But for now, all I wanted to do was get out of the place, get back to my apartment, curl up in my pyjamas and figure out what the hell happened. Just fifteen minutes to go.

I was serving one last drink when my replacement showed up with a cheerful greeting. Smiling my farewell I handed things over and headed out the back to collect my things. I changed into my boots, beanie and gloves, and shrugged on my coat before heading out, calling goodbye to the others as I emerged from the heat and into the icy cold.

“Hey – wait!” I had walked a fair way down the path when I heard the voice behind me, and I turned in surprise to find Mia running towards me. She was dressed only in the clothes she had been wearing indoors, her hair flowing loose behind her, her cheeks pink from the cold. She stopped in front of me, panting slightly, and tucked her bare hands into her pockets.

“What are you doing, it’s freezing out here without a coat! Go back inside!” She made no move to leave, just looked at me with those eyes and a steady expression.

“I needed to –” she took a deep breath, trying to steady the shake in her voice that could have been from nerves or cold. “I needed to say – oh, screw this!” and suddenly she was leaning towards me, and her hand was on my cheek, and our lips were together, until just as suddenly she was gone again, leaving nothing but the heat from her breath. We looked at each other for a long, silent moment, before her face broke into a smile – a true smile this time, revealing perfectly white teeth and dimples in either cheek.

“Here –” she reached into a pocket and produced a pen, before she pulled my hand towards her and eased my glove back far enough to reveal a patch of skin large enough to write a phone number. Shivering in earnest now, she thrust both pen and hand back into her pocket and looked at me one last time. “Message me later, ok?”

I nodded mutely, and she turned to walk away. I was still stuck in place when she turned towards me again, with an embarrassed expression playing across her face.

“I just realised. I don’t even know your name yet.” I shook myself back to attention to answer her.

“Tamsyn. My name’s Tamsyn.”

“Tamsyn. Nice to meet you.” She smiled once more and walked away, leaving me standing in the snow with no understanding of what had just happened. I tugged at the edge of my glove to examine the number written there in delicate text, and I remembered the way her skin had felt against mine.

With a small smile of my own, I turned and made my way towards home.