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"Love isn't something predictable, Sky, and doesn't follow rules. You can’t decide who to fall in love with, or when." His eyes shine with earnestness. "Love and logic don't go together, but when I'm with you, everything makes sense."
Why is he doing this to me when he knows how vulnerable I am?
"I think you should leave now," I say softly, scared he may become agitated if I won't accept what he's telling me.
He ignores me and continues. "Something happened. I can't believe you didn't notice. I found my missing piece and together we clicked into place. With you, I’m whole. I believe we’re meant to be together. That’s what I mean when I say I love you."
"This isn’t love. Dylan, I think you're in love with the idea of us being in love."
Dylan screws his eyes up and mouths the words. "I'm in love with the idea of us, yeah." He approaches me and I tense. The metal of his rings are cool against my cheek as he cups my face. Dylan's face is centimetres away; the tiny spark between our mouths that I felt the night on the beach is there. His warm breath against my lips, so close, I could lose myself in his orbit again.
"I wish you hadn’t come here," I say hoarsely, fighting the inner screaming to place my mouth on his. "I can’t cope."
"We could be so good for each other; this is meant to be," he murmurs.
With monumental self-control, I pull my face away from his hand. The romantic Sky would fall into his arms, but how can I love when everyday I’ll wait for his rejection? "You’ll forget me."
Dylan's eyes regain their lost confusion. "Forget? Never going to happen. You're here, forever." He holds a hand over his heart.
"And I'll always carry a piece of you, Dylan. You touched my life and I’ll always remember, but I can't let you take over."
"Why do you say that? Why would? Fuck, Sky, I know better than to try and mess with you."
"Well, you're trying," I say with a half-smile.
"I would never tell you what to do, or ask you to do or be anything apart from yourself. Why would I want to change the woman I fell in love with into someone else?"
The late hour and onslaught of emotion from Dylan does nothing to help me hold things together. He has to leave before I cry—before I listen to what he's saying and know his words make sense if I want them to.
But the Sky standing here has only recently pushed herself out of someone else's control. This Sky has to change, not replace Grant with someone else.
Even if he is a six foot, hot as hell rock star who makes a mean bacon sandwich.
"I don't know, because I don't know you." Summoning my remaining courage, I weave past him and open the front door.
"You do. You're the only one who does know me, Sky."
I tense as he steps towards me again. Dylan shakes his head at my reaction. His drunkenness doesn’t help his cause.
"Dylan, please go. I can’t cope with this right now. Call me tomorrow."
He steadies himself on the doorframe. "I won't give up on you," he says. "I'll wait until you change your mind."
My tired irritation breaks through. "You may be used to getting what you want, but you can'tmakesomeone feel what you want them to."
"Sky, if I thought you didn't feel the same underneath your protective walls, I wouldn't be here." He stumbles and leaves the flat without looking back.
Closing the door, I rest against it and stare at the nicotine stained ceiling. Why can't he be a normal guy living an everyday life so I could act on how I feel without opening up to a world of hurt?
