46
Jem
Dylan.
Wow, I’m honoured.
He shoves his way into the house and stands in my lounge, casting his gaze around the room. The place is covered in all kinds of crap; fast food boxes, empty cups and glasses, but not what I know he’s looking for.
“Wanna sweep the house too? Should’ve just brought a sniffer dog,” I snarl.
Dylan crosses his arms. “You look like shit, Jem.”
“Nice.”
“Where’s Ruby?”
“Gone and if you’re here you know that.” I flop onto the sofa and rest my head on the cool leather. “I’m tired, man. Could’ve called before you landed on my doorstep.”
“What happened with her?” he says coolly.
I shrug. “Got too hard.”
“Bullshit, Jem. I saw you guys together and you were good.”
I regard him with tired eyes. He’s tanned, curls returning as his hair reaches past his ears again. Yeah, he’s looking more like the old Dylan, but his new life with Sky means he never will be.
“How’s things in your love life?” I put my bare feet on the low coffee table.
“Why the snide tone, Jem?”
“The love-struck thing you have going on. Doesn’t suit you.”
He scoffs. “Why? Because you want me to be unhappy like you? Throw away the right girl because of my past fuck-ups?”
“Just saying.” I wave a dismissive hand.
Dylan pushes a pizza box out of the way and sits on the armchair. Resting his elbows on his knees, he fixes me with a look I recognise. “Tell me what’s happening. You just threw away something good. I thought you’d dropped the self-destruct act.”
“I’m not on self-destruct! See any drugs? Booze? No. I’m good.”
He sinks back and makes an exasperated sound. “Give me your phone.”
“No!”
“Just fucking do it. I want to show you something.”
“What?” Dylan holds his hand out and beckons with his fingers. Huffing, I slam it into his hand. “Don’t read my messages.”
“Not gonna.” He swipes a finger across the screen. “Looking at your photos.”
“They’re not that interesting. Been a while since I had pictures of naked chicks on there.”
Dylan laughs. “I’m only interested in one naked chick these days. So are you.” He turns the phone to show a picture of me and Ruby on the screen, my arm around her shoulders, close-up on our faces. Relaxed. Happy.
“Yeah? There’s a picture of us.”
“A few pictures, Jem.” He keeps scrolling. “Look at yourself in these pictures and see how the outside world saw you and Ruby—how good you were for each other. You were happy, Jem. I hadn’t seen you this alive for years.” He tosses the phone and it lands on my lap. “So, I’m asking again, what the hell happened?”