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“Well,” I said with a sigh, “I think I’m going to try and sleep through tomorrow so I’m not such a prick.”
Her lips curved into a small grin, but she didn’t say anything.
“Then, I’ll figure out where I’m going next.”
“Oh.Are you not sticking around for long?”
I shook my head.“Nope.I’ll be gone the day after Boxing Day.Things to see.Places to write about.”When she raised a questioning eyebrow, I said, “I’m a travel writer.I started a blog seven years ago, and now it’s how I make a living.”
“Impressive,” she said, and her expression suggested she wasn’t just mocking me.Believe me, if I’d heard what I’d just said, I would have laughed.Friendliness wasn’t exactly my strong suit.I definitely wasn’t the kind of sunny internet personality needed to make it big.I’d gained readers and followers after a rant I’d had about some toilets in a pub that were so dirty I needed to call it out.My British phrasing and obvious disgust had amused people, and since then, I was branded ‘honest and refreshing’.The more honest I was, the more people jumped on my bandwagon.“What’s the name of the blog?”
“Off The Beaten Track.”The words came out with a slight cringe that didn’t go unnoticed.
“What was that look for?”she asked, laughing.
The sound seemed to travel through my body, easing some of my tension, and I rolled my shoulders.“I mean… you’ve met me.”I smiled a little sheepishly.“I’m not exactly obvious influencer material.”
She pulled her lips together as if trying to suppress another laugh.“You might have a point there.But even so, you’re doing well by the sounds of it.”
“I am.I love what I do and I’m proud I can earn a living from it, but it wasn’t what I expected to be doing with my life.Sometimes, when I tell people I make my money by writing reviews and guides to places I’ve been, they usually roll their eyes, like I’m just another one ofthosepeople dossing around and doing nothing with their life.”
Also, they’re probably right.Not that my writing and photography weren’t decent.It had hopefully stopped a few people wandering into dodgy areas of certain cities and told them the best places to eat or sightsee in others.But a part of me rebelled against ‘growing up’.With a whole world to explore, why settle down?
Her eyes softened a little, the humour dialling down.“Whatever you’re doing, it’s working for you.Any ideas where you’ll go next?”
“Not yet.All I know is I can’t stay with Nan forever.I think she already wants to smother me with a pillow.”
She laughed out loud.“June would never do that.You’re her grandson.She just needs to get to know you again.”
Letting out a slow breath, I said, “Yeah, maybe.Speaking of getting to know people… I haven’t been told your name yet.”
Her eyes widened, her cheeks colouring slightly.“Oh, God.I’m so sorry.I’m Nova.”
Nova.
Where the hell did I know that name from?It wasn’t common, but I’d definitely heard it before.The sound of it was tickling a distant corner of my mind.
“Are you okay?”she asked, her forehead crinkling as she looked at me.Clearly, my confusion was showing on my face.
Nodding, I said, “Yeah, I’m just… your name sounds familiar, but I can’t work out why since I didn’t grow up around here.If I had, we would probably have gone to the same school.”
“Your nan said you’re twenty-eight, and I’m twenty-six, so yeah, we would have.But I don’t know the name Donovan, so I guess you must have heard my name somewhere else.”
I nodded again, more slowly as I searched the depths of my memory.Not Australia, not New Zealand.Longer ago than even my first trip overseas.A school friend in Italy?I had a pretty decent memory for names and faces, and I couldn’t recall anyone with that name being around me for a substantial amount of time.
A holiday maybe?
And then it hit me.
“No fucking way.”
Again, her brows furrowed.I must have looked like an idiot drifting off into my thoughts like that, but I couldn’t make sense of what I was remembering.Looking more closely at her, I could see it.Her eyes were a deeper brown, her hair a little darker and much thicker and longer, but Iknewher.
“Nova McKay,” I said.
She tilted her head to the side.“You know me?”
A laugh escaped my lips as I took in her heart-shaped face, full of questions and confusion.“Picture me about three foot shorter, no beard, my hair spiked up with gel like I was in a nineties boyband.”
