“What’s funny?”
“I’ve always found it hilarious imagining you fighting with him. Mr Badass rock star, six foot plus of brooding muscle brought to heel by feisty Sky.”
I smile. “He’s not badass. None of them are. You saw him at the wedding.”
“I did. I saw how in love with you he is. Don’t be mad with me, but I had my doubts too, thought everything happened too quick. You don’t often see somebody look at another person as if the world outside no longer exists or matters, but Dylan does. Not only when you’re meeting his eyes, but all the time. He watches you. You’re precious to him. He doesn’t want to lose you. I love Tom and know he cares about me, but he has never looked at me the way Dylan does you.”
I cradle the cup in my hands. “Why are you so sensible? Has Dylan paid you to talk me round?”
Tara laughs. “No, I just don’t like seeing you unhappy. And you want to sort this out before it becomes a story. Were you in public?”
“Oh crap.” I drop my head onto the table again. “Semi. At the PR offices.”
“Then I suggest you go home and publicly make up.” Tara pushes the phone across the table. “Call him. Let him know you’re safe. The spare room is made up, stay tonight, by the time you wake up you’ll feel better.”
* * *
The DylanI return home to the next morning watches me warily as I pour myself a glass of water in the kitchen and wait for him to speak.
I sense him in the doorway behind, hairs lifting on my neck as always. I’ve partly rationalised his decisions, but annoyance grips a corner of my mind still. I’m on a hair trigger here; Dylan had better be tactful.
And he knows.
“Are you okay?” he asks. “You haven’t spoken to me since you walked through the door five minutes ago.”
I turn and rest my back against the counter. Dylan leans against the doorframe, playing his fingers over the phoenix tattoo on his arm, the action that always betrays his stress.
Melting my resolve. “Better than I was.”
“I’m sorry, Sky.”
“You bloody should be.”
“I’m a dumb bastard sometimes. Tina told me back then I should let you know, but you were only just pregnant, and I thought it would be easier to just keep an eye on you and—”
I interrupt Dylan’s attempt to say everything in thirty seconds. “Youdidhave people following me?”
“Sometimes.”
“Bloody hell, Dylan!” I clear my throat and rein in the fresh upset.
“Lily never came near you. We only saw her once.”
“We?”
“I mean the people watching for her.”
The quelled anger threatens to build again, swirling around my stomach. “But you met up with her?”
He snorts. “Yes and no. I didn’t deliberately look for Lily. I saw her parked near the studio and went to her car. Lost my shit with her, told her to back off.”
“What did she do?”
“It was as if she hadn’t heard a word I said, no reaction. She just said goodbye and drove off.”
I rub my tired eyes. Sleep didn’t come easily last night, and my subconscious worries Lily could threaten us manifested in dreams. I woke in the night, uncomfortable and unsure where I was, regretting Dylan wasn’t with me.
“Do you understand why I’m angry?” I ask him.