Anyone But You: A BRAND NEW feel-good celebrity, second chance romance (Love is in the Air Book 2)

Chapter Seventeen

Dylan brought Scarlett to a stop outside the small Spar. ‘I’ll just nip in here for some more wine. We can get a takeaway tonight, if you’d rather stay in?’

‘Sounds great,’ she assured him.

His hand hovered by the shop door. ‘Do you drink red?’

She nodded. ‘Red’s good.’

‘Perfect.’ He pushed open the door and Scarlett waited outside, gazing at the sun as it slipped behind the blue sea. Above it, lumpy grey clouds gathered once more.

She glanced through the shop doorway, where she could see Dylan picking up a newspaper, and couldn’t help appreciating his long legs in his ripped jeans, and his languid, fluid movements. The friendly smile he gave to the shopkeeper was both sexy and cute, and she found herself lingering over delicious thoughts of what the night ahead held for them both.

Then she watched as Dylan picked up a newspaper, lifting it closer to his eyes so he could read it in the dim lighting of the shop. He glanced over at the door and caught her eye, but quickly looked away, as once again his gaze was drawn towards the newspaper. Frowning, he read more of the front page then looked back at her, and his shock was evident as his troubled eyes locked onto hers.

Immediately, Scarlett knew. The story — or non-story, as she saw it — had made the nationals. Closing her eyes for a moment, she wished to God she’d explained her situation earlier, and a clammy, creeping dread crawled over her skin as she thought about what untruths the article would be passing off as fact. Helplessly, she waited as he strode out of the shop, the newspaper flapping in the wind as he thrust it towards her.

She took a step back, trying to prepare herself for the onslaught as myriad emotions closed in on her, her mind darkening with memories she hoped never to have to air again.

‘Is this you?’ He sounded incredulous. ‘It is, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, Dylan.’

‘But you’re kissing . . . Who the hell is this?’ His eyes flickered down the page. Again, he waved it in front of her nose. ‘What the fuck? And who is this?’ He stabbed at another image of Scarlett talking on her phone beside a Range Rover, while a dark-haired man blew her a kiss through the open window. He turned the page, his jaw dropping as he studied the photographs and read the caption. ‘The Angel Brothers.’ He pushed his hair out of his eyes. ‘You knew the Angel Brothers?’

She glanced down at the newspaper. Shit. They’d put in the topless photo of her on the beach in Barbados again. Probably did it out of spite, because she’d refused to talk to the journalist — John, or whatever his name was. She still didn’t know where the hell that photo had come from in the first place. A friend who obviously wasn’t a friend, she supposed; she’d certainly never shared it on social media.

She tore the page from Dylan’s clenched fingers and glanced quickly through the images. They had certainly gone to town this time.

An image of her stumbling down the aircraft stairs as if she was drunk, taken by the journalist just one day ago, took up a quarter of the page. The headline: HAS SKY’S EX FALLEN FOR AXEL? was in bold capitals, with a picture of Sky’s brother, Axel, embracing her outside the jail clutching a can of Special Brew as if his life depended on it.

She shook her head in disgust at how low newspapers would sink. ‘Put it back, Dylan.’ She shoved the newspaper into his chest, crumpling it up.

He almost did as he was told and let it drop back onto the stack of newspapers, but at the last moment he grabbed at it, smoothed it out and tucked it under his arm.

She took in his horrified face, his hurt eyes and his hunched shoulders. His knuckles whitened as he hugged the newspaper to his chest. ‘No, I have to know.’

‘I’ll tell you the full story. The truth. Don’t read it from a tabloid newspaper.’

He shook his head and stepping back into the store tossed some money on the counter. He marched on ahead of her, his strides long and purposeful.

Struggling to keep up with him, Scarlett eventually fell behind, as his fury appeared to give him Olympian strength to carry him forward.

He stormed up the path, and she followed him, sighing. She was so done with drama but Dylan looked as if he wanted to slam the front door in her face, and for a minute, she hoped he would. It would be so much easier to run away from confrontation than to admit that she was a hopeless girlfriend who didn’t deserve anyone’s love.

Swallowing hard to dispel the lump in her throat, she wondered how ready she was to talk about Sky, although it had been two years since he’d died. Two whole years of grief and regret, her life changing from fun and laughter to silence and misery. He wasn’t coming back — ever, no matter how many vivid dreams she had, from which she awoke with a smile on her face, only to have the terrible truth overwhelm her once more. Dreams where Sky caught her around the waist, whispering words of love, where he celebrated his latest chart success, watching her laugh as he poured champagne into a slim flute until it overflowed. Dreams where he punched the air, as his latest song was broadcast live on television to a screaming audience. The illusion that Sky was still alive was always just under the surface of her waking moments, but she knew it would be too surreal for Dylan to understand. No one could understand it, unless they had stood in her shoes.

She’d hoped, in time, the lump of stone that had become her heart might’ve thawed with Dylan’s love and her grieving days over, but her chance for happiness was slipping away before it had even begun.

Dylan slammed through the house, depositing the wine on the table, the newspaper and his keys following with a thwack. He whirled around to face her, his eyes flinty. ‘I don’t believe this. You were screwing Axel Angel, until he got sent down. That’s what your big mystery is. Were you just biding your time until he came out of jail? Was that why you were so coy, playing the poor me, I’m not sure I’m ready for this angle as I’ve been so hurt.’ He paced the floor, running his fingers through his hair as he turned towards her, eyes blazing. ‘And me, stupid dummy that I am, trying to play it straight, trying to make sure I wasn’t pushing you too soon, or too hard. Not only that, but it seems half the world knows about you and him, and I’m the only idiot who doesn’t. Even sodding Gollum knew and he’s away with the fairies half the time.’

He unscrewed the lid from the wine bottle and tipped the wine into two huge glasses. The liquid glugged too quickly from the bottle’s almost vertical position, spilling wine over the table, but he didn’t seem to notice.

He took a slug and ran a hand across the back of his neck. ‘I asked you if there was someone else; I asked you, twice.’ He shook his head as he sat down by the kitchen table. ‘Why?’

She’d asked herself the same question so many times. Quietly she said, ‘It was Sky, not Axel. My boyfriend. Just to put you straight.’

Dylan looked up at her through confused eyes, ‘But this photo was taken last week, it says so here.’

‘That is a photograph of Axel, Sky’s younger brother who’s just been released from jail. We were hugging. It was totally innocent. You can see how similar they are in looks.’ She sank into a chair by the table and gulped at her own wine. ‘As you probably know, Sky is dead and I whole-heartedly blame myself for it.’

Dylan’s demeanour turned from horror and anger to incredulity as he took in her words and her obvious distress, but he didn’t reach out for her, or speak, just gripped his wine glass as if his life depended on it.

Lips pressed together she summoned up her composure, waiting until she could control the quiver in her voice before taking a deep breath to begin. ‘Sky and his band used our aircraft on a summer tour of America. I went to every show and hovered around backstage, because there was little else to do. The pilots quickly became bored of seeing the show so they did their own thing after each flight. I was basically on my own and there are only so many galleries and shopping malls a person can visit. Anyway, slowly we became friends, as I ran around for him and cheered him on. I was actually described as his PA by most newspapers. Eventually we became secret lovers. Secret because, one, I’d have been sacked, as having a relationship with a client is strictly forbidden, and two, Sky wanted to be seen as a bit of a player for his adoring fans — to keep them adoring him, I guess; every teenager’s fantasy that they will meet their pop idol and he will fall in love with her.’ She swigged back another mouthful of wine and glanced at Dylan, who sat immobile opposite her.

‘He was photographed with different beautiful women all over America, while I kept out of the way, hurting and feeling slightly ridiculous.’ She blinked hard to allay the burn of tears that gathered behind her eyes. ‘That auspicious start to our relationship was the way it played out the whole time. For two years, I faded into the background, pretending I didn’t mind seeing his hand on some other woman’s bum as he kissed her — strictly for the camera, of course.’ For a moment she was lost in a different time remembering how it was, but she pulled herself back from her memories and straightened her spine.

‘So, we were an item to everyone who knew us, but no one outside our circle of friends did. Until the overdose. The fatal one, that is. That was when StarJet found out as I was questioned by the police. They were okay, really, considering.’ She shrugged. ‘Anyway, I still have my job, so I must be doing something right.’ Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she thought back to the humiliating conversation she’d had with the human resources department. She touched her burning cheeks with the back of her hand in an effort to cool them down.

As she glanced at Dylan to see how he was taking her revelation, he seemed unable to even look at her. Instead, he focused on the dregs of his wine, swirling it around in the bottom of his glass as he bit his lower lip. Despite his evident struggle, his decency won through seeing Scarlett’s obvious distress. He placed a hand over her own. ‘I’m so sorry — for everything,’ he said.

She shouldn’t really have expected Dylan’s initial reaction to have been any different than it was. As far as he was concerned, he’d seen the evidence right in front of him, but still it hurt that he hadn’t given her the benefit of the doubt.

She shook her head. ‘Don’t be. The whole relationship was a mess by the end.’ As she said the words, the usual twist of desolation and grief hit her, as it did whenever she remembered that dreadful day. ‘The thing is, I knew he was taking drugs and I couldn’t stop him. I tried talking to him, so many times.’ She drained her glass in one go.

Dylan refilled it with a steadier hand than minutes before, she stood up to gaze out of the bay window, not wanting to look at him as she divulged the sad story of Sky’s addiction.

‘I remember reading that he’d died but I obviously don’t know the details.’ Dylan paused. ‘You don’t have to tell me, if it’s too painful.’

‘Short version?’ she said quietly. ‘Sky started using heroin and Axel, being the doting younger brother that he was, sorted out a constant supply. Sky became a total junkie. He was abusive, incoherent, devious, and, finally, unbearable. Before we destroyed each other, he destroyed himself. And I feel as if it was my fault for not being able to stop him.’ She choked back the last few words. ‘Axel was jailed for supplying. I think he was maxed out of his head, too.’ She shrugged. ‘I’ve been there for him, while he was in jail. He was just a kid who adored his brother. Seems a bit stupid to jail someone for loving a person so much they’d do anything for them, even if they killed them with it.’

‘And the newspapers now want to dig some dirt because Axel was let out of jail last week?’ Dylan asked.

‘Pretty much, I guess. He was let out early, and he called me, because he still hasn’t made peace with his mother. The press found out and, looking at the photographs, they are trying to insinuate that we were having a relationship.’

‘So it was a journalist hanging around outside your flat?’ he confirmed quietly.

He no longer sounded angry or defensive and for that Scarlett was grateful. ‘Last time, they even managed to find a photo of me with the young alcoholic popstar I mentioned to you earlier, as if I was somehow responsible for her condition.’ Exhaling, she turned away from the window, bone-weary. She just wanted to go home, but she owed Dylan enough to at least finish her story. ‘They probably hoped that Axel would come back to mine. That would give them a great story, right? There are still people who would find a story like that interesting, I suppose.’

Dylan drained his own glass and sloshed more wine into it, before he raised it to his lips and swallowed half of it in one go. A blip of time passed as he stared out of the window. He closed his eyes as if struggling with what he wanted to say next. ‘I’m sorry for your loss — and for my reaction.’

Scarlett blinked back tears. ‘The newspapers tried every way they could to incriminate me and I don’t even know why. They wanted a fall guy, I guess.’

‘What happened afterwards?’

‘The police too assumed that I was implicated for the sheer fact that I flew to foreign countries. Bit of an arse-over-tit way of thinking, if you ask me. You can get drugs outside the local Co-op if you stand there long enough for the hoodies to turn up.’ She grimaced remembering the sordidness of being a suspect. ‘It’s one of the reasons why I’m always careful not to upset Todd. I have form.’ She smiled, but it felt lopsided and forced.

Dylan nodded. ‘And Axel?’

Scarlett didn’t like the way he said his name, but didn’t rise to the bait. ‘He’ll always be welcome in my life, Dylan. He loved Sky, and I loved Sky.’

Dylan’s mouth twisted. ‘Have you arranged to see him again?’

‘I have his mobile number. I won’t turn him away if he needs me.’ She thrust her chin out, daring him to argue, but Dylan’s shoulders slumped, the fight seeming to drain out of him.

‘Do you still miss Sky?’

She shook her head. ‘I miss the person he was, not the person he became. It was as if a demon lived inside him and wouldn’t let him go until he was finished.’ The words were whispered as tears spilt over her eyelashes.

Sniffing, she wiped her sleeve across her face, smearing tears and mascara over her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry. I think I’m all sorted, and then wham — it hits me again, as if it just happened.’

She glanced over at the bay window. Beyond it, the huge expanse of sky and sea called to her like freedom, although she could never escape her own mind, no matter how far she travelled.

Dylan watched her, his face kind and it broke her heart anew.

‘You’re just starting out, Dylan. You don’t need to be drawn into the legacy that Sky left, and you surely will, if you stick around with me.’

‘No way. I’m not letting you cop out of this so easily.’ Dylan pulled her onto his lap and encircled his arms around her shoulders holding her tight, as her sobs quieted and slowed.

She buried her face in his shirt, while he smoothed her hair and whispered into her neck. ‘Shh, shush, it’s all going to be okay, I’ll make sure of it.’

She raised her head. ‘You say that now, but how long until the temptations of your new career rear their heads? The all-night parties where you’ll get totally off your face, and you’ll tell me you’re really sorry you slept with whoever, but you were drunk, so that’s okay.’

Dylan sighed. ‘We’re not back to that again, are we?’ His eyes bored into hers. ‘Scarlett, please listen to me. I’m not Sky, okay? I feel as if I’ve been sentenced and immediately found guilty. I don’t even have a contract, and already I’m a condemned man.’

Scarlett swallowed and swiped at her eyes with the heel of her hand. ‘I’ve seen it happen too many times.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m not sure I can cope with it all again, Dylan. I’m not as strong as I was.’

‘I’ll be strong for both of us.’ He rested his chin on the top of her head and tightened his arms around her shoulders. ‘I should’ve realised there was a reason you disliked my guitar. I saw you giving it evils the day I spoke to you in the café.’ He gave her a wry look. ‘Yeah, I’m not as dumb as I seem.’

She appreciated his attempt at humour and raised her head, smiling wanly.

‘That’s better. You know what, I think this day has been a bit much for you. Why don’t I run you a bath? I know Mum has some expensive bath oil she won’t mind sharing. I’ll order us some food and find another bottle of wine. Yes?’

‘Sounds perfect.’

‘We can get past this, Scarlett. Do you trust me?’

She nodded with a sniff and snuggled closer to Dylan, who stroked her arms and crooned reassuring words into her ear. She stayed cocooned in his cotton wool embrace, until the tears had slowed and she was ready to leave the safe haven of his arms.

‘Better?’ He peered into her eyes, and she blinked away the last of the tears.

‘Yes, thank you.’

‘Good.’ He tipped her gently off his lap. ‘I’ll run you that bath.’

He disappeared into the bathroom, and she undressed, wanting only to lose herself in the heat and warmth of deep water and later, Dylan’s arms. She padded into the bathroom after wrapping a towel around her body, feeling oddly coy about showing her naked self to Dylan.

Dylan turned off the taps and sloshed bath oil into the water, giving her a shy smile as he left. ‘Take as long as you want.’

She waited until he’d left before submerging herself in the warm water, the delicious scent of freesia wafting up through the steam. She hoped Dylan’s mother would forgive him for liberally using her Jo Malone bath oil. The tension in her shoulders and the knots in her stomach unravelled as she relaxed. The relief was immediate and as warmth seeped into her skin, her mind also slowed down from its frantic overthinking. Her fear of journalists hounding her seemed overblown now. Dylan was there for her; he understood and all was well.

Eventually she was roused by Dylan knocking on the door. ‘Are you okay?’ he called.

She hauled herself out of the water. ‘Yes, just getting out.’

‘No chance of an invitation to join you, then?’

Scarlett folded a huge towel around her body and opened the door. Smiling, she said, ‘No chance.’ She flicked the corner of her towel at him and headed for the bedroom, doing a double-take, as Dylan followed her across the hallway. She stopped still and gave him a mock dirty look, but he ignored it.

‘Can I help you with something?’ she was still smiling.

Dylan grinned. ‘I know I should leave you in peace. I really do know that, but I don’t seem able to.’

‘You think I’m going to dress while you watch?’

He took a step towards her. ‘I personally think the best plan is to do away with the whole getting dressed thing and cut to the chase. I could pick you up, all macho-like, take you to bed, and kiss you all better.’

‘Erm . . . well . . . that sounds interesting.’

He fixed her with a look so full of tenderness and longing that she couldn’t have turned him down any more than she could have turned down a stray kitten looking for a home.

He ran his fingers lightly down her arm, angling his head, lips so close to her ear that she shivered when he whispered, ‘It is a good idea, isn’t it?’

His breath on her neck made her quiver, and she leaned into him, the perfect antidote for her earlier melancholy. ‘I think it’s one of your better ideas,’ she whispered into his shoulder. If she could lose herself in the wonders of Dylan’s body until the only emotions that bombarded her were love or lust — preferably both — then all would be well with the world once more. She nodded.

‘Well then, what are we waiting for?’ Dylan took her hand and led her into the bedroom.

* * *

Later, Scarlett lay in his arms, her body relaxed but her mind struggling as she fought off the usual images of Sky, an almost nightly occurrence since he’d died.

Sky was still alive in her head, gorgeously ruffled, dark and dangerous, casual with her offered love, taking it when he felt like it, and towards the end, cruelly taunting her when he didn’t. She sometimes thought she hated him, and that was harder to bear in some ways than the love that still lingered.

Rogue tears trickled onto her pillow at the images jostling for her attention. She lay still, letting them flit in and out, mentally batted away for the last time, desperate not to make a murmur to wake Dylan. What had happened with Sky had passed two long years ago, and so long as Scarlett held any kind of control, history wouldn’t repeat itself. She’d make sure of that. it was time to exorcise Sky from her memories and she would start right away. Dylan’s breath already steadying in slumber and slowly, feeling at peace, her breath steadied too.