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"That's a long time, Dylan. Isn’t it weird looking in the mirror and not recognising yourself?"
"I didn't recognise myself for a long time, even before I cut my hair." He picks at his food and looks back to the sea.
Despite avoiding talking about each other’s lives, things slip in—like this explanation for the tightly wound Dylan I met a few days ago. "Maybe I should cut mine; I can recreate myself too."
Dylan strokes my fringe from my face, fingers trailing across my forehead, and the touch ignites my skin. "You’d look great with either long or short hair."
"Grant said girls with short hair don't look feminine."
"Who's Grant?"
I clamp a hand over my mouth.Real life things. Secrets."Just some dickhead who used to be my boyfriend."
"I wouldn't think you were the kind of girl to date dickheads."
I huff. "Yeah, some of them slip through the net and I don't realise until it's too late."
"How can it be too late? You weren't married, were you?"
I splutter Coke over my cooling chips. "Hell, no."
"Then what?"
"Once you fall in love, it's harder to let go. Even dickheads."
"But you let go? Is that why you're here?"
This isn't fair. He's poking at what I came to escape from and letting things into our bubble world. I set the paper onto the sand next to me. "I don't want to talk about this."
Dylan’s scrutiny traces a pattern over my face, leaving a trail of heat. How does he do that?
"Such a shame I'm a dickhead," he says in a low voice.
"You can't help that. Part of the Y chromosome disability, unfortunately," I say lightly.
He shakes his head and reaches out a finger to brush salt from my lips. An embarrassing sound escapes my throat as he rubs the rough fingertip along my lips.
"Remember what I said about your sarcastic mouth, Sky?"
Of course, I remember, how would I forget? But all I can do is stare back like a wide-eyed idiot and nod.
He removes his finger and licks the salt off the tip, the move impossibly sexy. "I know kissing you is the wrong thing to do, but I'm becoming obsessed."
My brain struggles to keep up. "Wrong?" I ask.
"When you look at me the way you do, I love and hate it at the same time. When youdon'tlook at me the way I want you to, that's even worse. Every funny thing you say, every time you blush, even just being in the same room fills me with an urge to kiss you. I don't understand, because this isn’t what I want, Sky."
Whoa. "That makes no sense."
"No. But nothing in my life makes sense to me." He moves the fish and chips from his lap onto the sand. Excruciatingly slowly, Dylan leans towards me. My heart somersaults and cheerleads in my chest as his mouth approaches mine. "So about kissing your sarcastic mouth...?"
The words are spoken millimetres from my lips and as his mouth moves, his lips touch mine. Damn, he's good at this.
"Yes," I breathe out.
"Yes, you remember, or yes, you've changed your mind and want me to kiss you?" Dylan rubs his cool nose along my cheek towards my ear.
"Both. All. Whatever," I say, losing the ability to process words.
