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

Chapter Twenty-Nine

‘Oh,no, Scarlett, weneed to get up.It’s seven o’clock.’

‘No! Should I be at work?’ She jumped up and sat on the edge of the bed blinking at her surroundings. ‘Where am I?’ She whirled around, colliding with Dylan, who instantly reached out for her. ‘Dylan.’ Her smile was wide, and she collapsed back on the bed, twisting to look at him, as he fell backwards beside her, his head hitting the pillow with a thud.

He rolled to face her. ‘Hi. Missed me?’

‘I fell asleep. I can’t believe I fell asleep when I’ve waited so long for you.’ To make sure she wasn’t dreaming, she reached up and drew him towards her with a smile. ‘I need you, now, this minute.’ She could barely believe that she was in Dylan’s bed, lying next to him, after so much pain and unhappiness.

He hovered over her, resting on his forearms on the bed as he braced either side of her. ‘You did miss me, then.’ He gazed at her for a moment, before lowering his lips to hers. His kiss was gentle and languid, but he quickly pulled away, just as Scarlett was getting into it. ‘This is all very nice, but my parents are expecting us at the Swan in twenty minutes.’ Sitting up, he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

She groaned and pulled him back down again, wrapping the duvet around him tightly. ‘Nooo, you are all mine.’

‘You don’t want to meet my parents? That’s rather rude . . .’

‘No, it’s not that. Of course I do. I just want to . . . spend time with you.’

‘You were hoping to have your wicked way with me, were you?’

She angled her head, taking in his face, and pulled the duvet away. ‘Yes, but you have too many clothes on. Why are you still fully clothed?’

He shrugged. ‘You were asleep.’

‘Well, I’m awake now.’ She flung off the t-shirt she’d borrowed and threw it across the room with abandon.

His gaze dropped to her breasts, and he groaned. ‘Oh, God, why do you have to be so delicious?’ He reached out for her, and she gave him a self-satisfied smile, but he shook his head at the last second. ‘Stop. We have to get ready. I can’t have my own parents guessing why we’re late meeting them for dinner. You’ll have to contain that unbridled passion of yours.’

She covered her breasts with the duvet and sat up with a pout. ‘If you say so, but I need a quick shower. Hey, you could join me.’

‘That would make the word quick totally redundant, and you know it, much as I’d love to takeyou upon theoffer.’

She knelt up on the mattress and sighed loudly. ‘Spoilsport.’

‘Seriously, though, I am desperate for you.’ He kissed her deeply, his hands roaming over her bottom and around up to her breasts. He dropped his head onto her shoulder. ‘I can’t do this. Take me now.’ Sighing, he raised his head and slapped her on the bottom. ‘No. C’mon, no time for this. Let’s make ourselves pretty for mum and dad. Don’t have a meltdown if we bump into Cara, will you? I’d hate to have to run down the road after you again — it might be a tad embarrassing in front of my parents.’

‘Will she be there?’ Scarlett asked, her insecurities surfacing once more.

‘She might be, but you don’t have to worry about Cara. We are ancient history and we both know it. She was my first love, until university did what it so often does. You know the way it goes.’ He shrugged.

Scarlett picked up on Dylan’s indifference and decided she could call time on those particular insecurities. She didn’t want to discuss what he’d shared with Cara, anyway. ‘I’ll just jump in the shower.’

Dylan groaned once more. ‘Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know what I’m missing.’

She was out of the bathroom in minutes and found Dylan tapping away at his phone with a frown. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I don’t believe this.’ He glanced up at Scarlett from the bed, his expression pained. ‘You look ravishing, by the way.’

She struck a pose, but he glanced straight back down at his phone, making her feel a little foolish. ‘What’s happened?’ She pulled her towel tighter, when only seconds ago, she’d have happily let it drop to the floor.

Dylan stroked his chin. ‘I’m about to be driven to the nearest helicopter launch-pad and flown to London for an awards show. I need to be there for ten o’clock, because I’ve been nominated for the best New Kid on the Block award, and Harrison thinks I’m up for winning it. Damn it.’ He threw his phone on the bed, glancing up at her once more. ‘Dear God, and you look like you do. How unfair is life?’

She shimmied over to him. ‘I’m glad that you’d rather stay with me than attend an award, considering that only last year you would have sold your soul for such an accolade.’

‘I would rather stay with you, you know that.’ He stood, and she took it as an invitation to hug him, but he threw his hands up. ‘No don’t touch me, Scarlett. I swear to God, I won’t be able to resist you, and the taxi’s coming in ten minutes.’

‘Oh. Tell them you’re not going, then.’

‘I can’t, it’s in my contract that I have to. They can sue the arse off me, if I put a step out of line. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but they practically own me.’

Scarlett wasn’t surprised. Managers didn’t manage musicians for the fun of it. ‘Can I come with you?’

Dylan paused and thought for a moment. ‘I’d love to say yes, but there might not be room, and the flight plan will have the load sheet already done.’

‘Get you and your knowledge of load sheets.’

He grinned. ‘I’m practically a pilot now. I’ve flown so much in these last few months I should have my own handle.’

‘That’s truck drivers,’ Scarlett said.

‘Not much difference, really,’ Dylan replied.

‘I would so love you to say that to Todd Carrington,’ she said, imagining his face.

‘Maybe I will, one day. How do I look?’ He ran his fingers through his hair.

Scarlett loved that he could dismiss Scott so easily. She wished she had been able to do so as she feared that would be another weight around her neck forever. ‘What? That’s it? Your preparation for an awards ceremony is running your fingers through your hair?’

‘I’ll put my boots on, obviously.’

‘Obviously,’ she mimicked, smiling as she moved towards him ready for a kiss.

He backed away, hands raised again. ‘You cannot imagine how bad my pain will be until I return, so you’d better be ready and waiting. Hey, you could wear your uniform and greet me at the door, balancing a gin and tonic on a silver tray.’

‘You’d better stop with this fantasy air stewardess thing, or else I’ll start to wonder if that’s the only reason you want me.’

‘There are a million reasons to want you, and I’ll tell you all of them, on my return.’ He pulled on his boots as he spoke. ‘I’ll cancel Mum and Dad, and tell the lads I can’t make it. They won’t mind. They see so much of me now they’re probably sick of me. Don’t go away, will you?’

The doorbell rang, and he grabbed a jacket, kissed her briefly, and vanished from the room.

‘I won’t,’ Scarlett shouted at his retreating back.

Deflated, she pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt as she prepared for a lonely night ahead. In truth it wouldn’t be much different from any other night, but she’d rather hoped her life was changing for the better. Right then, though, she appeared to be back at square one, apart from there being sand and sea and lots of activity outside instead of the river Mersey and its never-ending ferry service.

Deciding to go for a walk, she slipped on her shoes, hoping to make a decision about moving to Dubai. If she went, she couldn’t for the life of her see a way it would work between them, but she still needed an income, and sadly, love didn’t pay the bills.

In truth, her situation wasn’t as bad as she’d painted it to Dylan, because she would move back into her flat in London but Dylan’s house was in Southwold, and so was Dylan. And when he wasn’t in Southwold, he’d be in a top-notch hotel somewhere, being tempted by top-notch women.

Lost in thought, she trudged listlessly along the shoreline. She checked out the beach huts once more, imagining a bright red one named Scarlett, and hoped she’d be in Southwold long enough to see it happen.

In her mind, an unbidden image materialised, of herself and Dylan playing in the sand, with a couple of smiling, tousled-haired children. Settling on the beach wall, she allowed her little fantasy to play out in her mind and it hit her that she didn’t want to leave Dylan again. Ever again. She wanted to live in his wonderful town with him, and maybe, one day, the miniature Dylan look-alikes would come along and would grow up as content and positive as their father.

She loved Dylan, and if they wanted to make it work together, she would have to be the one to compromise. So, what was the problem? She could do compromise. There was an airport at Norwich that did bucket and spade flights, and although it wouldn’t be the same as private flying she could keep her hand in somehow, couldn’t she? She smiled. Finding some kind of solution had come easier than she’d expected.

She headed back to the house, contentedly. If she couldn’t get a flying job she could work in a shop, even though she couldn’t quite imagine selling ice-creams, or fish and chips as an alternative career. After throwing off her shoes, now happy to be on her own until Dylan returned, she padded into the kitchen, rummaged in the fridge, and poured herself a glass of champagne.

She wandered up to the roof to look at the sea, but it really had grown too cold to sit outside. Her mood dipped again at the thought of the empty nights that stretched ahead of her, while Dylan would no doubt be entertained and entertaining. It would be exactly the same as when she was with Sky. He’d be partying, while she worked, or sat at home, waiting for him to come back to her.

She wondered, fleetingly, if she should expect to be hidden away, so she didn’t upset the fans if she and Dylan became an item. How could she have simplified it all so easily? She certainly couldn’t afford to give up her well-paid job to be a waitress, or similar, and expect to run her car? And where would she live?

Her phone beeped, and she glanced down, uninterested, then sat up a little more enthusiastically on seeing Dylan’s name on the screen.

Put the television on, the text read. The remote is on top of the coffee table. Press number five. Now. I finally wrote you a song.

Hurriedly, she picked up her wine and sprinted back down the stairs, trying to remember if she’d even spotted a television. She found it in a recessed cupboard behind a glass door and stared at the blank screen, before examining the remote, which looked far too complicated to understand.

She finally worked it out and the television burst into life. Proud of her accomplishment, she gave herself a minute to rush into the kitchen and grab the champagne out of the fridge, flopping down on the sofa just in time to see Dylan’s beaming smile fill the screen.

He climbed up to a podium, looking self-conscious, still in his scruffy jeans and baggy t-shirt. He rubbed his right shin with the heel of his left foot, the way he did when he was a little unsure of himself.

After a bit of prompting, he began thanking various people for their support as he waved a small statue in the air. She leaned forward in disbelief. She’d missed his big moment.No!

She gnawed on her knuckle, upset with herself and wondering if Dylan would be angry with her.

No, she remindedherself, this is Dylan, not Sky.

The cameras cut to the presenter once more, as the applause died down. ‘Here’s Dylan’s latest song, which he says he perfected on the journey over here. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Dylan Willis.’

Dylan started singing and Scarlett listened to the words that were written just for her.

‘I should never have let you go, I know I should be home, please pick up the phone, I’m sorry, Scarlett.’

She inched closer to the television as Dylan faded away from the screen, leaving her hollow but immediately her phone rang and she pounced on it like a starving hyena. ‘Hi, Dylan, you were wonderful, and I love my song.’

‘I changed the last two lines on my way here. I was worried you might run off again.’

‘I won’t . . . ever.’ She cradled the phone to her ear, wishing it were Dylan she was cuddling. ‘Do you think we can make this work, Dylan?’

‘Yes, I’ve known it all along. It’s you who keeps putting a spanner in the works.’

‘No more spanners. Hurry home.’

She finished her glass of champagne, spritzed perfume on her body and hair, brushed her teeth, and lay down on the bed, waiting for Dylan.