Summer Sky (28 page)

He laughs at my language, and we join in cuddling and giggling until Dylan wraps us in his sheets and we luxuriate in each other's arms.

Until he decides to be fucking amazing, again.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Dylan

The clouds of the last couple of weeks are blown away by my night with Sky. We have a chance to make this work, to continue to meld into the Dylan and Sky we are when we're together. Sure, this isn't magically going to happen but one step at a time, steps I hope she'll take side by side with me.

Replicating the days at the beach house, I cook bacon in the kitchen I rarely use. Singing my Summer Sky song she’s yet to hear, I’m aware of someone entering the room behind.

"Last night wasn’t very successful, was it?"

I turn, spatula in hand. Steve walks over with tired eyes.

"It was for me." I grin.

Steve huffs and bangs around the kitchen as he pulls out a cup and heads for the coffee pot. "So another night fucking her and everything is okay?"

I stiffen at his use of the word. "We’re going to give this a go."

Steve sits on a stool and sips his coffee, face becoming a mask of displeasure. Why isn’t he pleased for me? "Great," he mutters.

"What?" I ask sharply. "This is what we want."

"This won’t work. Why bother?"

"Because this is what I want, I need to be with Sky to stay sane at the moment."

"Exactly. So when you lose her, it’ll fuck everything up."

I’m struck by his words, another reminder this is how things are. Steve doesn’t care about anything but our success and the money he makes, and will do anything to protect that. I've seen first-hand how skilful he is at protecting Blue Phoenix's control of the music world, which involves keeping us in line. I allowed him to do some things I wasn't comfortable with because I confused him with a father figure. Steve's no longer a replacement for the Dad who left when I was a kid, and this gradual realisation hit the day before I ran to Broadbeach. For the first time in years, I stepped away, and now I see the control he has but have no idea how to break this.

"That’s my decision to make," I growl.

Steve shakes his head slowly. "Well, I hope everything works out for you."

Like I believe him from his tone. "You know what, Steve. I’ll do anything to make this work with Sky. And unless you want me fucking off again, I suggest you suck it up."

Steve's pitying look, pisses me off, resolving my determination to make changes and some of those he's not going to like.

I consider the conversation, the words looping in my head as I cross the house towards my bedroom. The bed is a tangled mess of sheets from last night, clothes strewn across the floor. Sky sleeps with an arm over her head, mouth open and I laugh to myself. She’d be mortified if she knew. But she’s real; the realest thing in my life since I was seventeen. Placing the tray on the nearby dresser, I stroke her mussed hair from her eyes. Opening them, she wrinkles her nose.

"Bacon?" she asks sleepily.

"Yes. I’ve been practicing – I reckon I'll be a decent chef in no time." I kiss her forehead.

Sky traces a finger down my arm. "No idea why I never made the connection about the phoenix."

The sensation of her gentle touch along the outline of the blue phoenix from my bicep to shoulder bolts straight to my dick; well, that and the sheet slipping away from her naked tits.

Sky's eyes widen as she becomes aware of my dark-eyed scrutiny and she pulls the covers around herself, pouting.

"Don’t hide," I say, and unlace her fingers from the sheet.

She allows me, and I brush a thumb against her hardening nipple, cupping her breast in my hand as I move in and place my mouth on hers. My attempt at deepening the kiss fails as she pulls her head back.

"What about the sandwich?" she says and bites down a smile.

"Fuck, you turn me on," I say huskily, ignoring her.

"Don’t you swear at me, Mr Rock God." She pushes my shoulder playfully and I grab her hand, pulling a finger into my mouth. Her pupils dilate as our eyes meet and I remove the finger.

"Sure, you should eat because you’re going to need your energy." I cock a brow, just to ensure she understands exactly what I mean.

"Oh? Are we going on a long walk?" she asks innocently. “Hiking around your country estate?”

Fuck, she’s sexy, teasing me with her smart mouth. I grab her arms and pin them over her head, enjoying the way her increased breathing pushes her tits up and down. "No, and you know that’s not what I mean. I have a couple of weeks to make up for. And we’re starting today."

She smirks, rather than the usual girls’ yielding reaction to my smooth moves. "Better let me go so I can eat then."

I release her and move back, pushing down the words I want to use but I know she doesn't want to hear. I fucking love you, Sky but please don’t rip me apart.

"Are you okay?" she asks, confirming how in tune we are.

"Everything’s fucking awesome." I grin, pulling the sheet away from the body I don't want to ever stop touching.

Fuck the bacon sandwiches, there're more interesting things to do with my mouth here.

*****

Sky

Dylan disappears to the recording studio; reluctantly leaving the bed and after a soak in the bath I wish Dylan was in with me, I explore the grounds again. Around the side of the house is a garden of pavers and shrubs, a large rectangular pond is in the centre, overhung by willow trees. I stand at the edge and look down. Koi carp splash to the surface; writhing orange and black bodies. They always grossed me out, these unnatural looking, monstrous goldfish. There's a stone bench beneath one of the tress and I curl my legs under, and open my book.

One fantasy has been swapped for another; I'm cocooned in a different world and not one I belong in. Now Dylan and his overwhelming presence have left, the reality is clawing at the edges.

I stare at the emptiness of the vast estate. The weird family he belongs to - other band members, his manager, even his PA - colours his life in ways I can't imagine.

We never spoke about the 'what happens next'. My heart and body crave to be around him, but I see things like Jem and wonder how I could survive. Jem isn't surviving - and Dylan nearly didn't. Was Dylan once as big a mess as Jem is? Or even worse, is he still like Jem but has this hidden?

Dylan spends all day at the recording studio and I spend mine avoiding that part of the house in case I see any of Blue Phoenix. I'm not ready to embrace the rest of Dylan's life yet.

I took a little time earlier using Dylan's laptop to research ideas for my future. The disconnection from the crap my life has become in Bristol brings clarity, as if I am on some kind of retreat where I can take stock of my life and plan where to go next.

I have the qualifications to study something at university but I have no idea what. Closing my eyes and picking a course by clicking randomly won't help. I sigh and scroll around the site. University would buy me time - and more opportunities. Maybe marketing or some kind of business course? Hell, I don't know.

The shadows grow longer, and only when the temperature drops and goose bumps my arms, do I realise I've been sitting here a while. Crunching footsteps alert me to someone approaching and I glance up, hoping it's not Jem.

Dylan. The setting sun behind silhouettes his tall figure and he bends down to kiss me gently.

"Hey." He sits and wraps his arm around my shoulders, hugging me close. "Enjoying relaxing?"

"Getting a bit bored." I close my book.

"Oh. Sorry. We have to get these tracks finished..."

I touch his face. "Don't apologise to me."

"Okay, I don't want you to..." He pauses.

"Leave?" I ask.

He shifts. "Yeah."

"I'm not staying."

Dylan removes his arm and stares at his boots. "Oh, but..."

"I don't mean I'm leaving today but I can't stay here forever," I say, and take his hand. Dylan doesn't respond and his eyebrows are tugged down. I lace my fingers through his. "Dylan?"

"As long as you don't do what you did last time." He turns the ocean eyes to mine. "Leave without saying goodbye then shut me out."

“No, I won't."

"Good." He lifts my hand and kisses the back, our fingers still entangled. "I understand you want to leave, but do you think going back is a good idea? Maybe you should move somewhere safer than your flat?"

"I don't need to move somewhere safer! I'm going back to my life, carrying on."

Dylan stiffens. "So you are shutting me out?"

"No."

He smoothes my hair from my eyes, cool fingers brushing my warm forehead. "Being Dylan Morgan's girlfriend is complicated though, I don't want you being scared off."

The words skip in my chest. "Girlfriend?"

"You're more than a summer crush now."

His blue eyes shine but I can't resist teasing him. "No, we haven't dated properly yet."

"We've done plenty of other things..." His gaze moves towards my tight vest top.

"So, plenty of people do 'other things' without dating," I say nonchalantly.

"I want to date you. You never gave me the chance."

"We went to Sandchurch"

“And look how that ended. Sky, let me take you out somewhere properly."

"Where? You can't go anywhere public."

"Says who?"

"Your rampant horde of social media toting fanatics."

He shakes his head and rubs a finger along my mouth. "You're funny."

"And you're famous."

He slumps back. "Okay, we'll talk about this later, but I am going to treat you like a real girlfriend, not hide you. How long before you have to go back to work?"

"I'm on a temporary contract. If I don't work, I’m not paid. If I don't get paid, I lose my home."

"I could find you a job?" he suggests.

I bristle. "Remember what you said about not changing me or running my life?"

Dylan strokes my hair. "I didn't think. I didn't mean it like that."

I rub my eyes, tired from my late night in Dylan's bed. "I agreed to be in your life, but I need to do this slowly."

"Sure, I understand. You need to go back home." His semi-pout doesn't go with his words.

"I wouldn't move in with a guy straightaway, Dylan; especially not so soon after Grant. I have to do this one step at a time."

This place is amazing - a dream house - but it's empty. I understand why he wants me to fill the space.

Dylan squeezes me to his hard chest, and I bury my nose against the soft cotton of his T-shirt, inhaling the scent reminding me of Broadbeach and sex.

"So we can try this?" he whispers into my hair.

Seeing Dylan with the dark-haired girl last night slapped reality across my cheeks. I want to try with Dylan and can't stand the thought of him with anyone else.

"Sure, but if you stalk me one more time we’re over."

I pull back and when I see the amused look on his face, I want to slap it off. "I mean this. What you did wasn't good. I won't be treated like that!"

"Okay. I promise. It's just..."

I shake my head, indicating he should stop there.

"So you'll wait until tomorrow?" he asks.

I push him in the chest. "Okay, tomorrow."

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Sky

A couple of days later, Dylan insists on accompanying me home, despite protest from Steve and Kim. He dumps my rucksack on the floor and his impression of my small flat is apparent on his face - the moment when people quickly glance around at all the things they think are wrong with something, and then try to hide with a neutral smile.

"Do you like this place?" he asks, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"This is what I can afford."

"I could..."

"Stop," I interrupt him. "Don't even go there."

"You didn't know what I was going to say!"

"I can guess. And I don't want anything implying I'm with you for what I can get out of you."

Dylan seizes me around the waist and runs his nose along my cheek. "Are you sure? Some things you're happy to get out of me..."

"Don't..." I attempt a disapproving frown but I'm not fooling him.

He pouts. "Why not? Aren't you going to show me your bedroom?"

"Jeez, Dylan, we just walked through the door!"

Fingers trace my lower back, sending shivers along my spine. "But all day I've thought of you. About this morning..."

"Well, my bedroom is too messy to receive guests," I tell him, disentangling myself and pushing him away. "Plus, I don't want you to fuck me and leave."