AllFreeNovel
Share Us
42
Sky
The next morning,I regret telling Tara things didn't work out with Dylan, because now I don't have anyone to discuss this with. My head hurts from the stupid amount of wine I drank to drown my sorrows, and when I remember telling Dylan how I feel, my stomach flips. Now I'm exposed, raw, and might be hurt more.
I call into work and tell them I’m sick. I don't think this contract is going to last long. The job was only a week of data input anyway, not the kind of thing I can do today with a head thumping with hungover dehydration.
I retreat to Tara's and my coffee haunt, sit beneath The Great Gatsby-esque pictures and ponder the Dylan situation over several cups of coffee. What holds me to Dylan and allows me to believe him, when in a normal situation I’d kick his backside out of my life? Overreacting is more my style, but I allowed myself to believe him. Why? Dylan tells me I overthink things, but not overthinking is what led me to the Grant situation. Besides, when I’m in close proximity to Dylan, rational thinking isn’t something that happens a lot.
He may be famous, wealthy and have the sexual prowess of any billionaire in any book I've read, but underneath everything, he's Dylan. My Dylan from Broadbeach, who looks at me as if I fell from the stars.
How can I spend five years with Grant and felt a fraction of what I do for Dylan after less than a month? This inexplicable desire to be with him; the sick feeling when we're apart. The teenage crush feelings we recreated by the sea stuck—maybe they're not teenage.
I sip the coffee. Dylan doesn't understand how I gave myself to someone else's life for years, and why my heartbreak means I struggle to do this again. However, I know this is different. If I walked away from Dylan now, I'd spend my life asking why. I don't think Dylan will try to change me—he's too busy trying to change himself. Perhaps that’s part of what we recognise in each other—our lives have travelled in different trajectories, and now we’re pulled onto the same course. I remember Dylan’s words on the beach, how he’s sure we met at the moment we needed each other.
Deep down, I believe him about Danni-K. My experience of Jem suggests he'd do something like this. His attitude to my relationship with Dylan makes no sense, but the vitriol in his words on the night of the party would match this kind of action. Yet I need to see the truth in Dylan's face, not just hear the words.
I'm aware a girl at a nearby table sat here as long as I have, nursing one cup of coffee the whole time. This isn't illegal, although the cafe owners might not be too happy, but she keeps staring at me. Not the odd glance where you accidentally meet someone's eyes, but full on staring.
On alert for crazed fans, I study her when she's not looking. She’s around my age and has long blonde hair, which she wears loose across her shoulders. The natural Scandinavian blonde brings out her piercing blue eyes huge in her oval face, as she sits with slender legs curled beneath the table.
Sometimes, I think she's about to come over and talk to me, but if I meet her eyes, she looks away. I can't figure out what she's doing. The longer this goes on, the more convinced I become that she knows who I am. My current situation has me paranoid—one run-in with the paparazzi and fans and I'm on high alert. I shake the thought from my head.
I finish my latte and pick my bag up, ready to leave.
"Are you Sky? Can I talk to you?" asks a soft voice.
I look up in surprise as the tall, blonde girl hovers around my table. Her face is paler, hands trembling slightly. I glance around. The cafe is half-full, if she is a crazed fan I'm pretty sure I'll be safe.
"Um, okay."
"Would you like another coffee?" she asks, pulling a purse from her oversized brown leather handbag.
"I’m leaving."
"I need to talk to you about something."
"What?"
"Dylan."
I drop back onto the wooden chair and sigh. "Are you a fan?"
She laughs quietly. "No."
"Then what?"
"I'll order coffees." The girl disappears to the counter and I stare at the chalkboard, advertising drinks and cakes, a little dazed already.
She returns with a number attached to a metal stand, which she places on the table, then sits opposite me. I'm stunned by how pretty she is in such an understated way. Her face is clear of make-up and her plain blue summer dress matches her cornflower eyes.
The girl plays with the sugar dispenser. "I heard about you, and when I found out you'd decided to have a relationship with Dylan Morgan, I knew I had to warn you about something."
I stiffen. "Heard about me from who? Nobody knows whether I'm with Dylan or not." I scan my mind—the only people who know are part of the Blue Phoenix entourage.
"It doesn't matter."
"Yes, it does, because whoever this is obviously told you where I live!" I snap back. "Did Jem tell you?"
