AllFreeNovel
Share Us
12
Sky
Mind blown.That’s what happens the moment I step into his apartment. If I thought Dylan’s house in the country was impressive, this place blows the expensive pile of bricks out of the water. Excuse my naivety but I never imagine apartments to be two storey; apparently, upstairs is called a mezzanine. Whatever the hell it is, the space has floor to ceiling windows stretching across the whole wall, giving sweeping views of the Thames.
Having walked across plush cream carpets and around furniture that’s so expensive I wouldn’t want to touch anything, I gape at the panorama, reminded of canvas pictures of skylines on the wall in my dentist’s reception area. Dylan stands beside me, hands tucked beneath his arms as if this is the only way he can stop himself from touching me.
“A bit different to Cornwall,” I tell him.
“More snow, less beach?”
“You know what I mean; look at this place.”
“Would it sound strange if I said I’d rather be in Broadbeach?”
I’m unsure I want to revisit Broadbeach in my mind, even though the fantasy of the place would be much better than my current reality. Finding my flat broken into turned the day toward a weird unreality, and coming here reinforced this. I don’t answer him.
“Let me show you where you can stay,” he says, gesturing toward the metal stairs.
We walk down, toward the centre of the house. “I’m that side—this side is for guests,” he says, pointing in two directions.
I nod dumbly, taking in the contrast of his clean, beautiful home after my trashed flat. Dylan leads me in the direction of the guest rooms, past a separate lounge area and a darkened room set up like a movie theatre.
Going into the room Dylan indicates, I perch on the edge of the king-size bed, sinking into the soft mattress. The room is huge, twice the size of my own at home. A walk in robe is set into one wall, next to an ajar door through to a bathroom. No expense has been spared anywhere in this house; the guests get as much luxury as the owner.
Dylan sets my bag down, the scruffy rucksack out of place on the beautiful carpet. “Thanks.” I open the bag and look at my clothes, debating whether to hang anything in the robe.
“One thing…” begins Dylan.
“Knickers on the bed, I know, getting old now, Dylan.” I’m too tired for this; the plush bedding begs me to lie down and switch off from the world.
He laughs. “I wasn’t going to say that, but you’re welcome to.”
“What thing then?” I ask.
“Myf has been staying here. She’s away currently. Just in case you wonder why there’s another girl’s things around the place.”
He doesn’t need to justify himself; we weren’t together, so I have no right to be upset about other women in his bed.
“It’s your life, Dylan,” I say.
A cloud crosses his face. “Is it?”
“Yes.”
He rests against one side of the doorframe, hands buried in his leather jacket pockets. The effect he has is the same as ever—the desire to touch and to be touched by this man will never leave, as if hardwired into me. The tired face is brighter than a couple of days ago, more sparkle in his eyes, but he’s still pale and something about him isn’t right.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Not really, I think I want some space. I’m tired.”
“Yeah, I understand. Did you want me to show you where anything else is?”
I shake my head. Despite all the crap of my life in the last six months, Dylan has been the only bright moment. Lily attempted to turn this into darkness, but the flicker remains. I realise I’m staring and Dylan’s eyes reflect the desire in mine, and I look away.
“Let me know if you need anything,” he says.
“Thank you.”
