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“I have to go.” I stand, scraping the chair across the tiled floor. Grant stands too.
“I’ll be there for you, when he breaks your heart.”
“What the fuck? Are you deaf? Haven’t you listened to a word I’ve said?” I walk across the cafeteria, digging my nails into my bag’s strap.
The cafeteria is at the front of the hospital, and I’m relieved I don’t have far to go to get out and away from him.
Grant strides alongside me. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
I stop suddenly and he nearly crashes into me. “Don’t be such a hypocrite.”
“I mean it. I still love you,” he says softly.
“Shut up!” I half yell at him. An orderly wheeling a metal trolley eyes us suspiciously.
Weirdly, I think I believed Dylan the first day he drunkenly told me he loved me more than I believe Grant now.
I don’t dignify his words with an answer and we stand opposite each other. Silence hangs as I attempt to form a response that stops him ever broaching the subject again.
And of course, Dylan appears, his tall frame moving through the corridor and presence catching the attention of everyone around. People are magnetically drawn to him, stopping what they’re doing to look, even those I’m sure don’t know who he is. They don’t need to be aware of his name to get caught in his pull.
Grant’s body language shifts and he edges toward me, putting his hand on my arm. Dylan stops and looks between us before fixing Grant with an impassive look.
Awesome. Perfect addition to the afternoon.
“You ready, Sky?” he asks, not taking his eyes off Grant.
My ex, who had his fair share of girls at school crushing on him as captain of the football team and one of the hottest guys, is eclipsed by Dylan. Grant has the looks and the charms, but next to Dylan Morgan, he’s as average as they come.
I slip my hand into Dylan’s and his fingers crush around mine. I squeeze his in warning. “This is Grant. Grant—Dylan.”
Neither of them moves. No hand shaking here I guess.
“I thought so.” Dylan finally looks at me and leans in to kiss me softly on the lips. “How’s Tara?”
“She wasn’t awake today.”
“Oh, sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, but great to catch up,” puts in Grant. “I enjoyed lunch with you.”
Again with the hand crushing. I move closer to Dylan and glare at Grant. “You and the others, yes.”
Dylan as usual is gathering some attention and a couple of nurses at the edge of the corridor are whispering. If we stay much longer, they’ll descend on Dylan for autographs.
“You’re not what I expected,” says Grant.
I tense. Grant and Dylan speaking wasn’t something I wanted. “Oh?” asks Dylan.
“You look different in pictures.” The innocent comment is loaded. “But I hear things were tricky for you recently, with the rape allegation and everything.”
Dylan’s finger crunching extends to an increasingly stiff stance. He’s spoken to Steve recently about Lily, but not communicated to me. Lily hasn’t been in touch and I get the impression I’m squeezed out of any involvement. I don’t believe everything is laid to rest yet and I’ll get the truth somehow.
“Grant, don’t be a dickhead,” I say.
“Leave him. It’s okay,” says Dylan.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Grant says to me, ignoring Dylan.
“I think Sky makes wise decisions,” Dylan says, “She knows her own mind.”
Apparently lost for anything else in his arsenal, Grant leans in and kisses my cheek. I freeze, hoping to hell Dylan isn’t one for testosterone-fuelled displays. The last thing we need is an assault charge. “I’m here when you need me again,” he says and steps back. “Good to meet you, Dylan Morgan.”
Grant strides away before either of us can react. Warily, I look to Dylan who’s watching Grant go, mouth set hard. Eventually, he blinks and looks back to me. “Let’s go home.”
