Summer Star (The Blue Phoenix Series Book 1.5) (12 page)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

On the way back to the house, I don't pay attention to the journey because I'm busy indulging in thoughts of what I'm going to do with Sky tonight. I think the ball-aching frustration is at the edge of my restraint and Sky’s demonstrated she's more than willing. This morning's groping like teenagers, followed by the smug satisfaction of Sky losing all her inhibitions under my skilful hands, is the beginning.
Just you wait, Sky...

I'm snapped back to the here and now and away from the enjoyable images of Sky when we pull into the car park of a huge supermarket. Sky parks in a quieter part, on the edge and further from the shop than most people like to walk.

“What are you doing?” I ask, slumping down in my seat and grabbing my cap.

“I need snacks.” Sky rummages in her bag for her purse.

“Snacks? You just went shopping yesterday. How much do you eat?”

She slaps me playfully on the shoulder. “Cheeky... I forgot to buy chocolate yesterday. And you drank half of my cans of Coke.”

“Right. Sorry, I'm not used to buying my own food. I'll give you some money.”

“Seriously? No, I don't want your money.”

Crap
, I should give Sky some cash. I bet she doesn't have much of her own and here I am happily spending it by eating her food. “How much is chocolate or whatever? I haven't shopped recently.”

“Seriously?” Sky repeats, her disbelief clear and it annoys me when the reality of our lives sneaks in.

I'm trying harder than ever to keep quiet until I'm ready to ask her to be part of my life. Tonight? Or will that blow this apart? The way she studies me with her old gaze, the one where I'm positive she's attempting to figure me out annoys me.
Please don't ask who I am. Not yet
.

“I presume you're not getting out of the car. Do you want anything?” Sky says eventually.

“Not at the moment. Maybe later.” I smirk and raise a brow, hoping some Dylan Morgan charm will distract her. Despite the look she gives me, I know she's only half-disparaging and positive I'll get the ‘something’ later.

Sky disappears into the store for ten minutes so I wriggle down in the seat, and switch on her car radio. She's tuned into some crap chart hits from the 90s station so I flick to the one with newer music. This station plays a lot of upcoming bands and I often listen to the new sounds coming through. Following months of boy bands and people who get recording contracts based on reality TV triumphs, I enjoy real music pushing through. Guitars. Talent. Rock. With this is a secret pride that none of them matches Blue Phoenix in popularity plus a few cite us as an influence.

At thoughts of the band, my happy bubble is replaced with anxiety. But I don't want to be Blue Phoenix anymore, not the way we are now. I'd rather be the hopefuls I’m listening to, playing to smaller audiences, connecting the way I can't in stadiums where the lights blind and the faces are hidden. Thoughts of solo projects have edged in recently but Steve would sue my ass off.

Few people pass across the tarmac outside, and as Sky reappears, I click off the radio, in case it prompts discussion about music. Throwing the bursting plastic bags onto the back seat, Sky looks at me with amusement.

“What's funny?” I ask.

“You. In this car. Not quite your style is it?” She climbs into the driver's seat.

“I like being in your car; because I'm with you.”

Sky squeezes my hand and smiles her heart-bursting smile before starting the car. Or attempting to. I wait for the engine to run but all that happens is a grinding sound.

Fuck.

Shit.

The over-hanging anxiety from recent thoughts of Blue Phoenix and fame intensify; the thought we’re stuck in a public place adds more.

“What's wrong with the car?” I ask tersely.

“How the hell should I know? I'm not a mechanic.”

An old couple trundle a trolley past the car window and I cover my face wishing I could disappear. “Fuck.”

“What?”

“We have to get out of here. There’re a lot more people around than Sandchurch.”

“I'm trying!”

Another two attempts and Sky hops out of the car to look under the bonnet. I'd help but have no clue about cars. I hope she has.

More people pass, heading to the shop. Why couldn't they park closer?

Fuck.

Stiffening, I hug my arms around myself. Sky had better fucking fix this.

A hot and bothered Sky slams the bonnet closed and silently climbs into the car, perspiration on her reddening cheeks. I shift around for an update.

“What? I haven't fixed anything.”

“Shit! It's fucking hot in here.” The stifling air in the car dizzies me and I wind down the window, inhaling the humid air.

“Calm down. I'll call the breakdown people and get them to take a look. Maybe it's the battery.”

What the fuck?
“No. You can't call people.”

“What? Do you want to sit here all day? Or walk back to the house?”

“They'll recognise me. Tell someone.”

“I don't think everyone in Britain is looking for you. Don't be ridiculous!”

“Wait.”

Should I call Bryn? I pull my phone out and set it on the dashboard, mind whirling. If I call Bryn, he'd come and help but how long would that take? Or should I let Sky call someone and hope they're as clueless as her? Whatever happens, the bubble bursts and the real world floods in. Torn, I stare dazedly at the phone.

“What are you doing? Trying to fix the car with Zen?” she asks.

“I should've fucking stayed at the house.”

“This isn't exactly my idea of a great end to a day out either.”

“Fuck this!” Unable to stand the heat or atmosphere in the small space between us, furious about the intrusion in my happy place because Sky's car is a piece of junk, I climb out and slam the door.

Resting against the bonnet, I glance at a pursed-lipped Sky and call Bryn’s number.

Fate stepped in and the truth will hit sooner than I planned.

“Dylan.” Bryn's tone is terser than usual and I know it takes a lot to piss him off. Such as me pulling stupid stunts like buggering off when we’re recording an album.

“Hey.”

“Hey? Why the fuck have you ignored my messages?”

“Sorry, man. You know I wasn't coping.”

“Are you back or still on your happy holidays?” he says, voice laden with unpleasantness.

“No, not yet but...”

“Dylan! Get your ass back here! Seriously, this is too much. I want to go away before we go on tour and if you don't fucking come back and finish this album I can't!”

Wow
. He must really want to go wherever he's planning, or is incredibly fucked off with me. Or both.

“I'll be back in a couple of days, okay? I need your help with something right now though.”

“Oh, right. Of course, why else would you call me? What do you need?” he snaps.

A chick passes by with a whining kid and a trolley full of food. I barely register her, attempting to keep Bryn calm. “I'm stuck in a car park and...”

Sky dashes around the car and grabs my arm; I jump in surprise almost dropping the phone.

“Get in the car!” she hisses.

“What?”

“Jamie! Get in the car - the kids are waiting for us to pick them up!”

Is the heat getting to her head? “What the fuck are you on about?”

“I don't have time to hang around in the middle of a supermarket car park.” When Sky tips her head to the woman who passed, I finally catch on.

“Who the fuck is that, Dylan?” asks Bryn.

I ignore him and say to Sky, “I'm talking to someone about moving the car.”

Never one to miss an opportunity, when Sky's arms wrap around my neck and her warm breath touches my ear I cancel the call and grab her gorgeous backside. “I think someone recognised you.”

“Who?” I whisper against her face.

“Some woman with a trolley.”

I slide my hands along Sky's back, pulling her into my hips. She hitches a breath in her Sky-wants-me way so I give her what she wants. Slamming my mouth on Sky’s, I pour my frustration into her, roughly claiming her mouth. Sky digs her hands into my neck and nips on my lip. I nip back and when it's apparent she's not about to join in, I pull away and laugh at her.

Sky steadies herself on the car and touches her mouth, but her attempt to look pissed off isn't working.

“Has she gone?” I whisper.

“Who?”

“The person who was looking.”

The dazed look remains on her face. “Probably, why?”

“I thought that might throw her off the scent.”

“So Dylan Morgan kissing a woman is more inconspicuous than hanging out in a supermarket car park?”

I touch Sky's cheek. “Don't take this the wrong way...”

“What?” Sky’s expression shifts to distrust.

“You called me Jamie so I carried on the charade, and you're not the sort of girl Dylan Morgan would be seen kissing.”

The words are barely out of my mouth before her face pales. “What the hell? You dickhead!”

When Sky smacks me in the chest and steps away, I don't understand what the fuck I said wrong. Isn't this what she wanted? Didn’t we both want to appear as an average couple, not the famous Dylan Morgan and his girlfriend? Sky doesn't look like the pieces of eye candy that usually decorate my body, so saying she’s not like them is good, right?

Oh, crap
.
You stupid fucker.

Sky thinks I meant she isn't good enough for me.

I reach out but she shifts her body so I can't take her arm. “No, listen, that's not what I meant.”

Stupefied by the shift in atmosphere over one misunderstanding, I stare as Sky heads to the other side of the car and grabs her handbag. “Stay here and find someone else to help you. I'll get the bus and bloody walk home!” she snaps then strides away.

Whoa.

I rub a hand across my hair. Is Sky really so insecure she thought I was putting her down? “Sky!” I call at her retreating figure. “Really, you got this all wrong. I'm not saying that's what I think!”

Sky strides onward and I have no choice. Now we're making a scene in a public place, I guess it doesn't matter what I do. I catch up in a few steps and grab Sky, spinning her back so she has to look at me. “Sky!”

She's fucking crying.
My chest tightens, horrified by the tear streaking down her cheek. “Sorry, you’re right, I’m a dickhead, I didn't mean for you to take what I said this way.”

“Let me go!”

Gripping her face, I force Sky to look directly into my eyes, into my heart where the truth lies. “Listen to me, Sky. I'd swap you for a hundred of the girls the press and public expect me to be with. You're genuine, funny, and real. You've touched a part of my soul I thought died years ago.”

An hour ago, she would’ve smiled. Not anymore. “Cut the crap, Dylan.”

“No, I'm not just saying this; it's true. I know we don't know each other very well but something about you fills a space inside that's been empty for so long. Don't let me fuck this up before we've started.”

Sky's eyes glisten further but the words fail to reach her. She wrenches herself away. “Maybe you should write a song about it.”

“That's unfair, Sky.”

“I wish I'd left the day I first met you; the games don't stop, do they?” she says, dragging herself from my touch. “Don't follow me!”

The last time somebody's words hurt my heart I was a teenager, so seems right that this happens again when in my mind I'm back there. As I watch Sky walk away, my stomach knots. How can a day that was close to perfect end like this?

Sky's insecurity runs deeper than I realised and I can't help wonder what the guy did to her, the one who broke her heart and sent her running to Broadbeach. Sky's confidence is an illusion, a mask against the world, and I misjudged her.

As big an issue is she misjudges me, too. How can Sky look at me how she does and not see our shared, weird world we belong in; that we can live in each other's pockets after knowing each other five minutes and feel natural together? My words aren't empty; they come from a part of me only she reaches.

My phone rings and I answer, weighing up how much sense it would make to follow her. “Yeah?”

“What's going on?” Bryn asks. “Why did you hang up?”

“Sorry, got distracted.”

“Are you living it up with groupies, Dylan? Where are you now? Holed up in some five star hotel getting laid?”

“No! I'm still in Broadbeach and I'm stuck in a fucking supermarket car park.”

“With a chick?”

“No. Yes. It's complicated, Bryn. Can you help me out or not?”

The sound of Bryn's loud sigh is my response.

“Bryn? Please. I'm with a broken-down car and no transport. I don't feel like getting on a bus, I'm already smack bang in a public space.”