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"When?" I glance around sharply. "What did he do?"
"At your house when he was high, I thought he’d do something to me. He said something about you trading girls."
Fuck. "That was a long time ago, Sky. I did some stupid shit, as you've seen in your internet investigations."
Sky picks at her toast with delicate fingers. "I know. Is there anything I need to know about?"
This is my opportunity. But will I take it? I spoon Sky's two sugars into her tea and pass her the yellow mug. Picking up mine, I tip my head to the lounge and she follows me through.
"What do you want to know?" I ask, perching on the sofa.
"I know you've had sex with a lot of girls..."
I cringe. "I'm clean. I got tested a few months back and haven't been with anyone since then." I look her in the eyes. "Apart from you."
The cute Sky pink spread across her cheeks and I resist the urge to take hold of her and do things I know will stop her asking questions.
"There are a lot of stories out there, and I know the media creates fiction, but is there anything not ‘out there’ you should tell me?"
"Like what?"
She sips her tea. "I don't know, a love child, secret wife, something like that."
My heart fights its way out of my chest.Now. Tell her now. "No."
Sky's shoulders relax and she sits beside me. "So, in Broadbeach all you were running from was your life?"
"Pretty much."
I need to blank the memories of the past and lose myself in Sky's world. If she won't live in my world, I'm going to live in hers. A wave of her fragrant hair hangs in her eyes and I take hold of the strand, twirling it around my finger.
Sky touches my bruised face with her soft fingers. "Will you tell me what happened? Was this Jem?"
"Possibly." Since I arrived last night, she's nagged me to tell her about the bruise covering my face.
"Or your manager?"
"Why Steve?"
"Look at the way he treats you, Dylan. Like a naughty kid. Was he the reason you left for Broadbeach?"
"No, I left because of everything. I had no control. I told you." I can't help the hardness in my tone; I'm not ready to face this. I need to choose my time.
"And who has control of your life, Dylan?" she asks pointedly. "Not you, at the moment."
"Yes, I know, nothing changed. Can we leave this topic of conversation?"
Silence comes between us; not the usual comfortable silence but one filled with suspicion and unanswered insecurities.
"Has anybody tried to contact you since you returned to Bristol?" I ask.
"Like who?"
"The media. Fans. Things got a bit crazy back there."
"Not really, they're looking for you and I don't think I'm very interesting on my own."
"Yeah, one thing about Steve, he’s skilled at redirecting people to where he wants them to go."
