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“Somewhere a little more exclusive than normal places and where we can relax and not worry about press. Well, once we’re inside anyway.” He wrinkles his nose.
“I didn’t bring anything suitable for that!”
“Hmm.”
“Hmm?”
“You remember in the summer before…” He pauses. “We’d arranged that I’d take you out and the date got cancelled because I had to go to Belgium.”
“Yes,” I say quietly.
“Well, I kind of bought you something to wear…” My insistence that Dylan doesn’t spend money on me is responsible for the cautious look on his face.
“Kind of?”
He huffs. “I know you didn’t like me buying you things, but I wanted you to feel as beautiful as I think you are.”
I stiffen as my fears about Dylan trying to change me into his world’s image of women push in. “You didn’t think my clothes were good enough?”
“Sky, no. I asked Myf to help; she likes nice clothes but doesn’t dress like the people in my so-called world. I wanted you to feel special, that’s all. Can you take this as the gesture it was meant to be? You could always call this a Christmas present?”
A little fantasy might brighten my screwed up world — dressing up and going to an expensive restaurant with rock god Dylan Morgan. I half-smile to myself. “Okay, but if the dress is leopard print you’ll get a big fat no.”
Dylan laughs and leans toward me. “Definitely not. But I hope you like pink?” As I open my mouth to protest, I stop when I notice Dylan’s bitten back smile. “Sky, the dress is blue to match your eyes and your name.”
