Summer Star (The Blue Phoenix Series Book 1.5) (7 page)

Sky brushes the edge of the cushion with her fingertips. “Maybe I’m still pissed off with you.”

“I don’t think you are. I think you secretly liked it earlier.”

“Oh, yes? Which bit?”

“All of it. Get changed; otherwise, we’ll miss the sunset.” I wave at her with my hand, indicating she should move.

She stands and I’m unsure which way this is going. “The sky’s too cloudy.”

“She is today.”

When Sky stalks out of the room without responding, I smile. For once, I won.

****

Sky reappears ten minutes later in figure-hugging jeans and a blue T-shirt that moulds as perfectly to her other curves. I'd expected to wait an hour but, unusually for a chick, Sky's idea of the amount of time needed to get ready to go out matches mine. We head back to town and I sit on a low, stone wall at the bottom of the steps as Sky disappears up to buy the meal. She doesn’t ask why I don’t join her, my situation understood.

What's awesome about English summers is the long evenings. Okay, this one is cool; but the sun sets, and I stare at the streaking orange and yellow sky, thinking about the Sky who I'm inexplicably attached to. I crave her attention in a way I haven't for years, as if somebody like her liking somebody like me is a huge compliment. She likes Dylan, not Dylan Morgan.

This means the old Dylan is here and no longer hidden; and with Sky, I can be him if I just keep the sex-crazed egomaniac Dylan Morgan under control.

Sky reappears with paper-wrapped bundles, the smell of the greasy food triggering hunger. “Where did you used to go to eat your fish and chips as a kid?” she asks.

“Normally, we'd sit here on this wall. You?”

“We used to sit on the beach and watch the sunset.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Sky keeps hold of the food and passes me the drinks cans.

The jagged rocks at the edge of the dunes are perfect, secluded from passers-by and facing the sun setting over the sea. I'm distracted by the smell of greasy food, my hunger getting the better of me as I dive into the paper, eager to start. Sky sighs in a satisfied way as she eats a chip and I laugh at her.

“Funny, Sky.”

“What?”

“Nothing, at least you're not obsessed about what you eat.” I poke the battered fish and hold a hand out. “Forks?”

“Umm. I forgot.”

“Fingers it is then.” Last time I ate out, the food came in tiny portions on huge plates, as I sat ensconced in a VIP corner, served by immaculate waitresses. Here I am, pulling apart greasy batter with my fingers in a public place with a girl who unceremoniously dumped the paper package on my lap. I know where I’d rather be. 

We're closer than we've sat before, Sky’s warm body pressed lightly against mine. I'd shift away but I'm unsure if that'd come across rude - and because I don't want to. Besides, this feels natural, being with Sky in a quiet moment instead of with some chick who’s giggling and touching my leg or arm, attempting to get herself a piece of rock star. Sky isn’t eating though, holding a fat chip in her hand, and staring at the contents of the packet.

“We can go back to the house and get forks if you don't want to use your fingers?” I suggest.

“It's fine. I'm not as hungry as I thought.”

Fair enough
. I happily eat mine, as we remain in a silence that's natural, although I swear Sky's breathing is heavier as she delicately nibbles on her meal. I thought she wanted to do this?

Licking the grease from my mouth, I pat my full belly. “Wow, it's a long time since I've had decent fish and chips. Not quite LA style.”

“I suspect if you had too many fish and chips, you wouldn't have the body you do...” Sky stops herself and ego-Dylan smirks inwardly.

“True. Being on stage burns a lot off though. If I stay in Broadbeach and eat junk food for a month, I'll be sporting a party pack instead of a six-pack.”

Sky eats a chip and then pokes around at the rest of her meal. “So why did you really come here?”

“I want to remember what life was like before all the crazy shit. Coming back here, I can block out the rest of the world without using alcohol and drugs.”

Sky studies me, and I wish I knew what she’s thinking. I’m a rock star; she should expect the cliché I morphed into. “You had an alcohol problem?”

I look away at the dark sea beneath the fading sunset. “Yeah. For years, it was great until alcohol became the way I coped with my weird reality. I stopped drinking and drugging and had nothing else to fill the hole with. The hole gets bigger every day.”

There’s a strange relief in saying this aloud instead of allowing the words to circle on repeat in my head; telling a stranger who can't judge because I might never see her again after a couple of days is safe.

“So you came back here?” she asks.

“A couple of days ago, I got up and thought 'fuck this'. So I cut my hair and left.”

Sky touches my head. “You had long hair?”

I turn away from the sea to Sky; her hand remains on my face, fingers trailing across my cheek as I move my head, her touch gentle, comforting. “For the last eight years, yeah. I'll show you a picture sometime. You might recognise me then.”

“That's a long time. It must be weird looking in the mirror and not recognising yourself.”

“I didn't recognise myself for a long time even before I cut my hair.” I turn back to my meal.

“Maybe I should cut mine, I can recreate myself too. This is the longest my hair's been for a few years.”

At her odd comment, I can't resist any longer and stroke Sky’s curled fringe from her face. I want to touch her so fucking much, and not just her face. “I'm sure you'll look great whatever you decide to do with your hair.”

“Grant said girls with short hair don't look right.”

“Who's Grant?”

“Just some dickhead who used to be my boyfriend.”

Wow.
“I wouldn't think you were the kind of girl to date dickheads.”

“Yeah, some of them slip through the net and I didn't realise until it was too late.” She takes a deep drink from her can.

“How can it be too late? You weren't married, were you?”

In true Sky style, she spurts the drink all over her barely touched meal. “Hell, no.”

“Then what?”

“Once you fall in love, it's harder to let go; even with dickheads.”

I rub my mouth, not following this conversation. Relationships are too complicated for me and here’s a reason why. “But you let go? Is that why you're here?”

Sky puts down her meal and says firmly, “I don't want to talk about this.”

I can't… I fucking can't keep this platonic
. Here. Now. In this strange, isolated world of our past, I want to touch, hold, kiss and whatever the hell else Sky'll let me do. Who am I kidding that I have self-control?

“Such a shame I'm a dickhead,” I say softly, increasingly fighting against taking Sky’s face and kissing her hard.

“I'm sure you can't help it. Part of the Y chromosome disability, unfortunately.” The nonchalant words aren't matched by the shared desire in Sky's eyes.

I brush salt from her lips, scraping a rough finger across the softness. The sound she responds with isn't one of rejection.

“Remember what I said about your sarcastic mouth?” I lick the salt from my fingers, catching the taste of her lips. “I know kissing you is the wrong thing to do to you, but I'm starting to get obsessed.”

“Wrong?”

“When you look at me the way you do, I love and hate it at the same time. When you don't look at me the way I want you to, that's even worse. Every funny thing you say, every time you blush, even just being in the same room fills me with an unexpected urge to kiss you. I don't understand, because this isn’t what I want.”

The strange words tumble out, as if seeing into Sky’s open face pushes the confused truth from my mouth.

“That makes no sense,” she says softly.

“It doesn't, does it? But nothing in my life makes sense to me.”

You, here and now, is the only thing that makes sense
.

Caught in the moment, in Sky's weird effect on me, I hesitantly move my face closer, catching her familiar scent. “So about kissing your sarcastic mouth...?” My lips brush Sky’s as I fight against pushing my mouth onto hers. 

“Yes.”

“Yes, you remember, or yes, you've changed your mind and want me to kiss you?” With each word, I move my lips along Sky’s cheek to her ear, eliciting a shiver.

“Both. All. Whatever.” She’s breathless but I have to be slow, careful. Be sure she wants this. I tip Sky’s chin up, rubbing my thumb against her mouth, enjoying the heated breath touching my lips. There's no doubt in Sky's eyes, or her words.

Although my body screams to seize Sky and kiss her hard, I gently place my mouth on hers, relishing the first moment of Sky’s warm lips against mine. Normally I kiss hard and fast, propelling the chick toward my bed, but this is different, Sky’s somebody I want to be close to and she's letting me in.

More than letting me in, her eager lips push against mine, urging me on.

I push my hands into Sky's hair and our mouths move together, the hesitant kiss of a new couple who aren't sure if they'll become lovers. I could be a teenager, kissing my summer girlfriend on the beach, a snatched moment before we have to go home and I fucking love it.

When I lightly run my tongue along her lips, Sky wipes any doubts away by grabbing my neck and kissing me hard. Attempting to keep this as controlled as possible, I don't part my lips, instead enjoying the buzz of the connection, the held back need.

I rub Sky’s goose-bumped arms to warm her, before sliding my hands to her back. As Sky's tits squash against my chest, I give in and kiss her properly; explore Sky’s mouth, taste the woman I've fantasised about - not just the last couple of days but through the years I've dreamt of somebody like Sky. Normal.

She returns my kiss as enthusiastically and our tongues slide together, firing desire for this woman - in my bed and in my life. She tastes and feels like home, a place I long for and never thought I’d find again.

Aware how arousal is shooting the blood from my brain to my dick, I groan and pull my mouth away, slowing things down. I doubt Sky would be up for fucking on the beach and although this isn't what I want, other parts of my anatomy have a tendency to control my brain once I’m turned on.

There's so much more of Sky to check out; if I get knocked back by being too full on, I'll never get my hands on the rest of her. I switch my attention to her neck, her hair tickling my face as I run kisses across her velvet skin. Sky grips my hair tighter and doesn't help my resolve by pressing herself into me.

I'm shocked when she pushes her hands beneath my jacket and t-shirt, running her fingers across my tight abs. Shocked by Sky’s forwardness - and her cold hands.

“Sorry,” she murmurs against my cheek.

“No problem.”

If she has her hands on me, it's only fair...
I sneak a hand beneath Sky’s shirt, lightly tracing fingers across her skin as I hold her close. I shift my hips, hoping to hell she can't feel my erection – or, even worse, decide to investigate that too — because I'm hanging onto self-control by my fingernails here. Every touch elicits noises from Sky that turn me the fuck on and I capture her mouth with mine again, desperate to keep this moment of first connection forever. But those tits, so fucking close… I play my fingers along her ribs, and brush the satin of her bra.

Sky shifts and my hand closes around the mound of her breast.
Holy fuck.

Sky, stop arching toward me.

No.

I slide my hands to Sky's waist and rest my head on hers, and we pant like eager lovers desperate to rip each other's clothes off.

I don't miss her whimper of disappointment.

“Did you have summer crushes when you came here in the past?” I manage to say hoarsely.

“Mmhmm”

“Will you be my summer crush?”

“Mmhmm.” Sky’s lack of coherent words is hopefully a good thing and I think that's a ‘yes’. I pull my head back and stroke her face, calming myself.

This is awesome. Look at my self-control.

Kissing Sky’s forehead, I wrap my fingers around her cool hand and hold her tightly against me. Sky's breathing slows, and we join another peaceful moment. This time though we’ve stepped further into each other's lives.

Was this just a kiss? No. This was a weird joining of the star and the Sky, a mind-blowing pull into her world that for some reason I can't imagine leaving.

CHAPTER NINE

The last girl I held hands with was called Maddie; the girl I pretty much first did everything with. Maddie Evans, who never knew I existed, the fantasy of every guy at school. Then, Blue Phoenix grew in popularity and the chick from my Biology class suddenly became interested in the lead singer. I'm not stupid; I know Maddie’s interest was becoming girlfriend of the lead singer of the rising Blue Phoenix, and not me. Being a horny teenage boy, the fact she wanted people to know she was Dylan Morgan's lover suited me fine.

This set the pattern for my relationships and I soon left the handholding part far behind. The girls come and go, you'll see them with me at public engagements gripping my arm, or mine around her waist if we're posing for official shots. But if you find paparazzi pictures of Dylan Morgan trying to live an everyday life with a girl, you'll never see us holding hands. Sure, chicks love to hold hands but there's something proprietary about the act, a signal to the world: “mine.” I'm sick of being everybody's so I won't be anybody's.

Which is why it's fucking weird that when I help Sky up from the sand and we set off back to the house I keep my hand in hers. I don't register this until halfway along the darkening beach. I ignore the instinct to pull my fingers away because holding Sky's hand means she could be mine.

Sky carries her half-eaten meal in her other hand and she walks close, body shifting against mine. On the beach, I offered her my hoodie and she accepted my gentlemanly gesture. Shame that's the only gentlemanly thought in my head right now.

The closer we get to the house, the more anxious I am about what happens next. Why anxious? Because once I'm alone with Sky in private, I don't know what to do. I doubt she's a casual hook-up girl but I ache for her. Sex with Sky already happened in my dreams and runs through my head frequently but if I push us into that... then what? Will she go home? The problem is, I don't have time for anything else, no chance of attempting to do the dating thing instead - she's leaving soon anyway. Do I go for what I can get? Or behave and miss an unmissable opportunity?

“You okay?” I ask, as we step into the house.

“Everything's great. What about you?” she asks cautiously.

“All good.”

We stand in the open doorway, the gulf of expectation between us. Now what?
Shit.
When chicks throw themselves at me, life is easier. Sky studies me for a minute, before she heads to the kitchen. I smile at the familiar clink of a bottle and glass.

“Do you want a wine?” she calls.

“You know I'm not drinking.” I stand in the kitchen doorway, arm up against the frame as I debate my next move.

“Okay.” Sky pours a glass and her hand trembles slightly as she drinks.

She stares at the exposed skin on my stomach and licks wine from her lips as she does, slowly but not deliberately. One in a long line of girls who can't help themselves, I guess.

The shrill sound of my phone upstairs interrupts the moment. Switching the bloody thing back on was a bad idea.

“Is this where we get awkward?” she asks.

“Awkward about what?”

“You kissed me.”

“And you kissed me.” I smile but the bloody phone is distracting me.

“And...?”

“And...?”

She gives me what I'm terming a “Sky look.” Pursed lips, pissed off face. Defence mechanism. “Nothing.”

Decision made that I'm going to taste those lips again and go as far as she'll let me, I give her a “Dylan look” in return. Does she recognise mine by now too?

I'm not going to push this. She can lead, but I'm not discouraging anything.

First, I deal with the bloody phone because it’s not stopping. “I’ll be right back. I've been waiting for a call about...something.”

Sky shrugs, sits on the chair, and opens her half-eaten fish and chips.

In my bedroom, I grab the phone wanting the call to be over a.s.a.p. so I can get back to my plans with Sky.

Half-scared to look at the caller ID in case it's Steve, I grab the phone.

Bryn.

“Hey.”

“Dylan.” Bryn's tone is tired. “What's going on? I've tried calling you for hours. I was starting to think you'd dumped your phone and disappeared completely.”

“Nah, I was... out.”

“Without your phone?”

“I've been avoiding it. Steve keeps calling.”

Bryn huffs. “Then talk to him and he'll stop. Tell him you'll be back in a couple of days.”

I walk to the open window; the cool evening breeze brushes my face. “Maybe.”

“Dylan,” groans Bryn. “You told me a couple of days.”

“That was until I got here, now I think I need longer.”

“Don't be fucking selfish! We need to get this album finished before the tour. I want time out before we go away too, but you don't see me pissing off for a holiday by the sea.”

“You know I need this! I can't do anything in my current, head-fucked state.”

“Running away won't solve that. Jeez, even Jem's managing to make it to sessions.”

“Yeah, off his face and making everything take twice as long as it should!” My voice rises. “So it's okay because Jem's an addict but it's not okay that I'm on the verge of a fucking breakdown?” I grit my teeth in case I start throwing more at Bryn than I should. “I'll be back.”

“Steve wants you back or...”

“I don't give a flying fuck what he wants!”

“Dylan, you know you can't ignore this. He's pissed off with you, he won't put up with this; you know what he's like.”

“Yeah, well, tell him to go fuck himself. I'm not doing what he says. I'll do what I fucking like with my life!” I half-yell, not caring if Sky hears me.

Even here, in my sanctuary, Steve's grip on my life follows. As long as one of the band can find me, his reach extends in my direction. Cornwall clearly isn't far enough.

“Let me come down there; we can talk this through,” suggests Bryn, quietly. “Sort this out before it becomes a real mess.”

“I don't think so, and don't think about trying to find me or I'll fucking leave for good!”

Bryn sighs. “Okay, brutal honesty - we're contracted to finish the album by the end of June otherwise it's gonna cost us. Jem already delayed it.”

“Fuck the contracts, so sue me! I don't fucking care!”

There's silence from the other end of the line and I fight my pounding head. “I can't talk to you when you're like this, Dylan. You need to think about what I'm saying though, once you've calmed down.”

Why did I agree to keep in touch with Bryn? I should've cut ties with everything Blue Phoenix until I was up to dealing with shit again. I'm shocked Bryn's not on my side. Of all of them, he knows what a mess I’m in.

“Yeah. Probably best you leave me alone.” I cancel the call and throw the phone across the room.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The distant sound of the waves attempt to pull me back to the new world I'm in but the peace of the evening left when Dylan Morgan was dragged back to the surface. I slam the window closed and pull the curtains. I just want to be a guy who met a girl, two people starting a holiday romance.

Who am I kidding? I should leave in case Bryn does follow. I stomp around shoving clothes into my bag; grab my guitar from the bed and slam it into the case, head attempting to process my next move. Where do I go? I sink onto the bed.

No, I'm not going.

Pushing the bag to one side with my foot, I head back downstairs. Maybe if I rewind back to her and the us we're on the cusp of, I can forget again. But as I stand in the doorway and watch Sky curled up on the sofa reading, I'm aware that won't happen. I'm not a teenage boy with a summer crush. I slump against the frame, disappointment flooding through and replacing the happiness of the short time lost on the beach with Sky.

When I see concern in her eyes, my heart is pulled closer to hers. Why is she bothered?

“Is everything okay?” she asks.

“It doesn't matter.” I sit on the edge of the chair opposite. She shouldn't get involved.

“Liar.”

“Okay, no. But that's my shit to deal with. The other world we're not living in at the moment.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“I said that shit’s not part of this world,” I snap.

Sky raises an eyebrow at my tone. “What world are we part of, Dylan?”

“The world where the man from the sea meets the summer sky.”

“Pardon?”

“My name. That's what it means. I love the ocean so my name’s pretty apt. And you're like the sky.”

She purses her lips. “Expansive and empty?”

Sky's humour pushes at the edge of my stress and I lean back, placing my sandy shoes on the table. “Where the sun's hidden behind the clouds, and some days the sun shines through and fills the sky with warmth and brightness,” I say softly and watch for her reaction.

“How do you know what I’m like? You've known me two days.”

“I know you're hurting. And I know you hide behind your sarcasm because you're vulnerable underneath.”

“You don't know me at all. You know a girl you met, who shares a childhood past. You know the childhood me.”

“Fine. I don't want to argue with you.”

With one last disgruntled look, Sky buries herself back in the book. What the hell? I'm trying to talk to her.

Fuck this.

I head back out of the house and pause on the path, gulping in air. I need to walk away, breathe. Instead, I rest against the cool bricks and stare at the night sky. Between the clouds, stars fight through and I attempt to locate the constellation I always recognise. As a young kid I loved everything outer space, my room covered in glow-in-the-dark planets and stars. For as long as I remember, every clear night I look up and search for this one - the saucepan shaped Ursa Major. I hate when I’m in the southern hemisphere because the constellation isn’t visible there. This group of stars are my anchor, always there, following me through life wherever I go.

Sky appears next to me and gently touches my arm.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” she asks.

I continue my search amongst the stars. “We can’t escape really, can we?”

“Not everything. But we can control some of what happens to us.”

“I don’t feel like I can.” Does Sky care for the strange guy who crashed into her car and life, the one whose weird mood should have her running? And why? I take her hand, desperate to stay connected. “I don’t feel like I have any control over my life.”

“Of course you do, and if you don’t, change things.”

I turn my face to Sky’s, the understanding reflected in her eyes. “That’s why I came here, but I can’t run forever.”

“Then enjoy the freedom and control you have now, and when you go back change what you can.”

Sky strokes my hand and I finally understand where my conflict is coming from. I can't fuck this girl because I'll lose the us we’re creating, and I need her here.

“Yeah, maybe.” Desperate to hold Sky, wishing I could explain everything and make her understand who I am and why I'm here, I wrap my arm around Sky’s waist and pull her close. The soft jacket, my hoodie she's still wearing, warms my arm and I bury my face into Sky’s hair, inhaling. Sky relaxes against me and places a hand on my chest.

“I want to kiss you again, Sky. But I don't think I can stop there and I don't want to spoil this,” I murmur.

“How would you spoil this?”

Shifting, I stroke her cheek, sharing more truths. “Because when I fuck a girl, I don't want anything to do with her afterwards.”

I stumble in surprise as Sky pushes me hard in the chest. “I wouldn’t let you! I don’t fuck people, you arrogant bastard!”

“I told you I was a dickhead.”

“And now I believe you!”

Nice one, Dylan. Anything else you want to fuck up tonight?

I attempt to finish what I was telling her, get her to understand how she’s special. Stroking Sky’s face, I move my lips to her ear, and whisper, “If I took you upstairs to bed, I wouldn't fuck you. You’re worth so much more than that. You have no idea…the things I want to do to you…” The speed of Sky's warm breath against my cheek increases and the battle between the two Dylans continues. Suggesting those things hasn't dealt with my own attempt to calm down. “And if you’d let me finish what I was saying, I would’ve explained what this would do to my head is the problem.”

Sky breaks away and crosses her arms against her chest. “I think we’d better stop now; you’re right, this is going to spoil…whatever this is.”

The boy and girl and their tentative kiss on the beach have retreated, my big mouth fucking things up, thanks to my attempt to be honest. I attempt to tell Sky she’s worth more than other chicks, and I get this reaction.
Why?

Fine.
This is going downhill very quickly if I don’t walk away.

“Suit yourself. I think I need to go for a walk.”