Meredith
Dylan hands me a thicker blanket, and I take it gratefully, without making eye contact with him. I feel a little odd sitting in his front room with him, with no television or any signal on my phone to distract me. I can’t help but stare out of the window at the flurry of white that now covers the entire glass, almost as though I’m looking out through snowy net curtains.
“Do you want to play a game, Merry?”
His deep voice interrupts my thoughts, and I whip my head around to him, eager to correct him for using that stupid nickname. He’s grinning at me, reaching over to plop a deck of cards between us.
“Cards?” I say, wrinkling my nose up. “I haven’t played cards in ages.”
“I should really pour us a whiskey,” Dylan says thoughtfully, stroking the stubble on his chin. “Warm us up from the inside out.”
“We’d better not,” I say hastily. “We might need to drive or something.”
He snorted with laughter, rising to his feet before he walked over to the window, his broad frame hunching down as he peers through the glass.
“Come see, Merry. Do you think we will be going anywhere soon?”
I follow him to the window, which is a small rectangle. I can barely see out of it, but from what I can see, it doesn’t look promising.
“Shitbells,” I mutter, pushing my hair back from my face. “Can’t you call your friend again?”
“Yeah.” Dylan shrugs, his blue eyes locking with mine for a moment in time. “I’ll do it now.”
I watch as he locates his phone, frowning down at it as he taps at the screen. It’s crazy to think this is the guy that dominated my teenhood, the guy I fantasised about every day until I realised that it was never going to happen.
Even when I’d met David—God, even his name in my head still stung—I didn’t feel the instant rush of desire I’d felt for Dylan Charmer.
BACK IN SCHOOL...YEARS AGO...
“You’ve got to stop staring at him.”Grace giggles, elbowing me in the ribs. “He’s going to notice and think you’re a weirdo.”
Staring isn’t the word. I am full-on salivating as he throws his head back, showing his Adam’s apple as he laughs at something his friend has said. His hair curls at the ends, which frames his startling blue eyes perfectly, as he nods down at one of the girls in the rows before him.
Claire Denim.
Waist-length silky chestnut hair, her huge breasts accentuated by the tie she wears loose, her arms crossed tightly beneath her chest as she flips her hair over her shoulder, turning to make eye contact with Dylan.
“I hate assemblies,” Grace complains.
But I’m too focused on the silent exchange between Dylan and Claire. She’s all fluttering her eyelashes and pouting, and he's grinning like an idiot whilst his mates nudge him excitedly.
I hate Claire Denim.
“Sssh.” Grace gasps, elbowing me even harder this time. “Seriously, I can’t believe you just said that!”
I drop my gaze then as people around us begin to peer at me with interest. Did I really just say that aloud?
Eventually, the assembly ends, and we all file back out through the double doors to our respective classes. Everyone drags their feet; no one wants to get to class with any kind of urgency, except maybe the first years who still want to become prefects.
“Alright, Merry Christmas.” A voice calls from behind me, and I feel my cheeks burn.
“More like Rudolph.” Snorts the unmistakable voice of Dylan Charmer. “Look at that hair. It could guide planes down from the sky.”
I keep my head down as Grace shoots me a sympathetic look. I don’t turn back as they continue calling people names, but I’m glad it’s not just me now. Some poor kid is being called an elf on the shelf because he is small and slender.
“He really is such a dick. Why do you like him so much?” Grace sighs as I turn to catch one last glance of him before we disappear around the corner.
“I don’t know,” I admit honestly, my stomach flipping when he looks up, his gaze catching mine. For a second, I can’t breathe, but then he looks away, and the oxygen returns to my lungs.
