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I bet Dylan knows what he's doing in that department.
What the hell?I admonish myself. Just stop this. Now.
Leaving the grey-haired Mrs Hughes and her one-eyed dog, I walk along the beach as quickly as I can. I'm puzzled by Dylan’s sudden desire to head back to the house. The ice creams melt, sliding down the cone and across my fingers. Outside the house, Dylan reclines on one of the slatted wooden chairs, looking as if he's in a beachside photo-shoot. Like the magazine ads for underwear. An image of Dylan in underwear pops into my mind.Omigod, Sky, stop yourself for at least five minutes.
"Here." I hold out his semi-melted treat.
Dylan takes the cone and his eyes zone in on the action as I lick the melted ice cream off my fingers. When he switchesthatlook to my eyes, I'm positive the heat ignited inside me is enough to melt the rest. Nobody looked at me like this before, and I don't understand the meaning—not fully. Desire, yes, but there’s something more beneath.
"Thanks," he says in a low voice, shifting his scrutiny to the flaking wooden table.
Silently, we sit and eat. Something just shifted in our atmosphere and a different kind of energy flows between us. I twist my body away slightly, so he can't watch me eat, because Dylan's reaction when I licked the stickiness from my fingers added something sexual to the action.
"So, where are you from, Sky?"
I drop my train of thought. "I live in Bristol."
"What do you do there?" He bites halfway down his cone, ice cream smearing his lips.
"I thought we weren't going to talk about this stuff?"
"Just curious. Can I guess? And if I guess right will you tell me?"
A game. I like games. "Okay."
Finishing his last mouthful of cone, Dylan stretches his long legs out. He cocks his head and taps his fingers on his lips in a deliberately thoughtful way.
"Teacher?"
"No."
"Hmm. Nurse?"
"What? No."
"Do you work in an office?"
The realisation strikes—I don't have a job anymore. "No. Not really."
"You do work?"
"Yes!"
"Lion tamer?"
"Ha, ha."
He shrugs. "No idea then."
"How about you?"
Dylan's eyes widen and search mine. "You're serious, aren't you?"
"About?"
He sits forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands under his chin as he scrutinises my face. "I thought you recognised me but were pretending you didn’t."
I knew it."Are you famous or something?"
