by Vicki James
“I mean—”
“You can’t sell Florence’s house!” I cried too loudly to go undetected.
Danny glanced over the edge of the roof before he looked back at me, confused. “I can’t keep it. The place would be left to rot. I’m never here.”
“Then get a cleaner to freshen it up once a week.”
“And just leave it with no life inside? What a waste of a home.”
“Okay. Well… I don’t know. Use your head and put it up for rent or something. You own a frickin’ lettings agency, for God’s sake. You can’t sell it!”
“Daisy, shh.” He stepped forward, pressing a hand to my shoulder while the other went to his lips to silence me. “You’re going to be heard.”
“I don’t care,” I hissed. “You can’t sell that house, Danny. All that history. The memories. Flo would hate it.” I’d hate it. “Can you imagine if she knew someone who wasn’t a Silver owned her dream home? The very thing that her and Albie worked their whole lives for.”
“What does it matter to you?”
“How can you ask me that? You should already know.”
His eyes searched mine, his face falling soft before he rubbed his lips together and looked away. “It’s too early for this conversation. We should go.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you promise me you won’t sell that house, Danny.”
“Daisy—”
“Promise me!”
With a sigh, he looked down into my eyes again, and his body relaxed. “It really matters to you, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.” Danny hitched my bag up farther onto his shoulder, and he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, making the muscles in his jawline twitch. “I’ll figure something out.”
“Promise?”
“I promise, Daisy, yeah.”
I sighed, too, the weight I lost on that exhale a relief. “Thank you.”
“But you have to promise me something in return.”
“Anything.”
“You’ll help me clear it out. I loved Gran, and I knew her fairly well, but I’ve been gone a while, and I’ve got a feeling I’ll need you to tell me what I need to keep and what can be thrown away. After all,” he raised a brow, “you seem to know what’s important more than I do.”
“Are you bribing me into spending more time with you?”
“One hundred percent.”
“You’ve no shame.”
“Nope.”
“Fine,” I grumbled, copying his frustrated tone when he’d agreed to my terms. “But I’m doing this under duress. I don’t see why you can’t call Brodie in to help you.”
“Brodie hasn’t been back to Hope Cove in about seven years. You know that.”
“Dammit.” If Danny hadn’t been there, I was pretty sure I would have stamped my foot in frustration. I was losing traction with him, and my feet were now on icy ground, slipping and sliding all over the place, but always in the general direction of the only guy to ever break my heart. We were a car crash waiting to happen, and not even I, the victim, could look away.
“I don’t like you, Danny Silver,” I said without any conviction whatsoever.
He laughed softly and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “Keep telling yourself that, Zee. I’m starting to find it cute.” He began to guide me towards the steps, and he glanced over the edge when we reached them, scoping out the surroundings. “It looks clear to me. I’ll go first.”
“You sure?”
“As sure as eggs is eggs.” Danny grinned.
“Now I know you’re trying to get on my nerves.”
With a sexy chuckle that shouldn’t have made my knees go weak, Danny offered me a wink and a shrug before he climbed over the edge and began to descend the stairs.
“Stop saying that,” I warned as I strutted towards him wearing nothing but the red lifeguard swimsuit I had to wear whenever I was on duty. Danny was in the water, while I cleared up after everyone else had left—the pool now closed for the day. “It drives me crazy.”
“What? Why?” He laughed, shaking the water out of his hair before he ran both hands over it and dropped his arms over the ledge to prop his chin on. He looked up at me through those big green eyes that were my weakness, desperate to win me over.
“As sure as eggs is eggs,” I mocked. “Why can’t you just say you’re certain? You’re sure. You’re positive.”
“Because I don’t fucking want to.” He laughed. “I like that saying.” Danny jumped up out of the water, pressing all his body weight onto his arms and making the ever-growing muscles in them pop. The water dripped from his tanned skin, making me stop in my tracks and just take him in. “If you’ve got a problem with it, Daisy, you should come over here and whisper it to me with a kiss.”
“You fight so, so dirty,” I moaned, unable to stop myself from closing the distance and crouching down in front of him. I pinched his chin between my finger and thumb. “Remind me why I love you so much?”
“Because we belong together.”
“I thought you had plans to conquer the world, one guitar gig at a time.”
“There’s no rule to say I can’t do that with my girl by my side.”
“What if I don’t want to go travelling around the world?”
“You’ll cave eventually. You can’t resist me, no matter how hard you try.”
“Oh, yeah?” I smirked.
“As sure as eggs is eggs.” He grinned… right before I pressed my hand to the top of his head and pushed him back down under the water with a laugh of my own.
Twenty
“You never cancel plans,” Gina said. “Not even for Ben. What’s going on?”
I locked up the shop at 4:00 p.m. that afternoon and tucked the key into my bag before I began to walk home at a faster pace than usual.
“Nothing’s going on,” I assured her. “There’s no drama.”
“Are you ditching me to spend time with some new friend?”
“You know you’re the only woman for me, my little Smurf.” I smiled to myself before I glanced over my shoulder to check the roads were clear before crossing. Although car traffic wasn’t bad around here, you could get taken out by a madman on a bike, or worse, Mr Elvin and his electric scooter. “I’ll call around on Sunday instead.”
“Sunday? That’s days away.”
“I’m sure you can survive without me until then.” I chuckled.
A silence lingered between us, but not even my exhaustion and achy back could keep that weird small smile from my face or remove the spring in my step that I had no explanation for. Even though Gina wasn’t there, I felt like she was watching me—judging me and every move I made.
“This has something to do with Danny, doesn’t it?” she eventually asked accusingly.
“What? No. Don’t be stupid.”
“Fuck, Dais. Fuck!” she cried. “It does. I can tell by your voice.”
“Gina, I—”
“You’re seeing him tonight, aren’t you?”
“N—”
“—and before you lie to me, young lady, know that I can sniff out your deceit from a half a mile away. I can also ring around every resident in Hope Cove if I have to. You know I make it my business to have their numbers in my back pocket any time I need them in a crisis.”
“This isn’t a crisis!”
“No? So, you aren’t seeing him tonight then?”
With a sigh, I ran my free hand over my forehead and squeezed the phone in my hand. “Okay, fine. I am seeing him tonight, but it’s not like you think, it—”
“I knew it! Holy shit, I just knew it.” Gina laughed, but it wasn’t the kind of laughter that lit you up. It was the accusing kind. The I can’t believe you’re being so stupid kind. “Give that guy a few days and he somehow makes you forget what he put you through for years.”
“I’m not that weak, Gina. Jesus!”
“Tell that to the version of you that will be crying on my shoulder this time next week.”
&n
bsp; “Stop it. Please. This isn’t what you think it is.”
“Then what is it, Daisy?”
“I’m doing this for Florence. Danny was going to sell her house. I’ve convinced him not to. It needs to stay in Flo and Albie’s family somehow. Everyone around here knows that place and that garden was her pride and joy. Imagine some family moving into it and wrecking every acre of it, or someone turning that beautiful grass into slabs of concrete or digging up all her rose bushes to replace them with a gigantic swing their kids won’t even use. I couldn’t let it happen. So, yeah, I made a deal with Danny to help clear out some of her things tonight so he can consider putting it up for rent and getting some vetted tenants in.”
“You mean he trapped you into spending time with him.”
Goddammit.
“It’s not… like that…” I said, but we both heard the weakness in my broken statement. “And even if it is like that for him, it’s not for me.”
“The worrying thing is, you might actually believe that in your own head.”
“I need to do this, Gina.”
It took her a second to respond, but when she did, a long stream of air hit the receiver first. “Fine. Okay, fine. But be careful, Dais. You make a deal with a rock star, and you’re only ever going to get burned.”
“He’s not a rock star until he leaves on Sunday. While he’s home, he’s just Danny, and that’s all I’m going to see him as.”
“That version of the guy is your greatest weakness. I’d rather he was the rock star around you, and then maybe you’d be in with a fighting chance in all of this.”
“Trust me, Gina,” I said, my voice too small. “Everything is under control.”
An hour later, and I was pulling my bike out of the under the stairs cupboard and locking the door to my home. My eyes were dry and heavy after a night of broken sleep on the roof. When I’d looked in my bathroom mirror—the one left that I hadn’t yet smashed—I’d gasped at the dark circles under my lashes and the pale pallor of my skin. Even with a soft summer tan, I’d somehow managed to look translucent.
It’s because your heart is sick, that stupid inner voice taunted me, but I’d pushed it away and thrown on a little layer of makeup that I hoped Danny wouldn’t think was for his benefit.
It had been a while since I’d ridden over to Florence’s house like this, and memories of my youth filled me as I climbed onto the seat, tugging on the knees of my jeans to get comfortable. I glanced down at the strapless black top I had on that left my shoulders and neck bare apart from a delicate silver heart necklace, and I groaned to myself.
Not for Danny’s benefit. Yeah, right.
I arrived at Florence’s huge bungalow only a few minutes later, and when I cycled up her long driveway, nostalgia washed over me.
All the times I’d come over here while dating Danny to have dinner with his grandparents.
All the times we’d hung out in the back garden that was a place for solitude and privacy, filled with every variation of plant and every colour you could ever imagine.
The kisses. The happiness that had filled me.
God, I’d been pathetic.
So in love and naive and just… pathetic.
Those eight letters in that one word summed me up enough for it to have been a fitting middle name for me to carry around for the rest of my days.
Daisy Pathetic Piper.
A movement in the floor-to-ceiling living room window caught my eye, and I turned to see Danny standing there with a mug of something in one hand, while his other hand was tucked away in the pocket of his dark jeans, causing his Metallica T-shirt to stretch over his broad shoulders. As soon as he saw me, he smiled, bright and beaming, and all I could do was look at him and do the same.
You’re in so much trouble here, Pathetic Little Miss Daisy. Hold it together.
I had to cough my smile away and bring my long plait of hair over my bare shoulder, just for something to do that didn’t involve holding up a white flag and declaring myself no longer mad at him.
Wars shouldn’t end so easily, otherwise it diluted the purpose of the war to begin with, and I had a justified reason for feeling vengeful towards him.
Didn’t I?
Yes, I had. I really, really had.
Danny tipped his head to the side and gestured to the front door. I swung my leg off the bike and pushed it forward, propping it up against the wall before I brushed my hands over my stomach and gave myself one final inspection. White Converse. Light blue mum jeans. Black strapless top tucked into said jeans. No big deal. I didn’t look too fancy. I wasn’t… trying or anything…
The door swung open, and Danny stood there, looking brighter than I’d seen him since his return, despite his dark clothing.
“Hey,” he said, tilting his chin and leaning against the doorframe with his mug in his hand.
“Hey.”
His eyes raked over me, lingering around my chest before he cleared his throat and looked up again. “You look nice.”
“Do I?” I rubbed my hands over my stomach awkwardly. “I threw this on really. It’s hot, but I didn’t want to wear anything too fancy in case we were moving boxes and things, you know, so I—”
“Zee?”
“Hmm?” I blinked.
“I said you look nice. Accept the compliment without the rambling.”
“Oh-okay.” I nodded. “Thanks.”
“Want to come in?” He held the door open, and I made my way over to him, stumbling awkwardly when I tried to walk through only for him to block my passage with his arm.
Standing beside him, I looked up at his face slowly, feeling the old spark hiss and prickle between us. Danny’s soft smirk made me want to pounce on him—literally throw myself at his chest, hope like hell he caught me, and kiss him better than I’d kissed him in my stockroom the other morning.
The feelings of hate were weak, barely clinging on, no matter how many times I tried to remember all the times I’d cried, and just how hard it had been to move on once he’d gone.
Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I hitched in a breath.
“Please don’t make this awkward, Danny,” I whispered.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Zee,” he breathed before he pushed the door out of his hand and let me through.
Walking past him, I stepped into Florence’s home and was immediately greeted with the familiar smell of comfort. This wasn’t your typical bungalow. This was a grand home, flattened out over one floor. Florence and Albie had planned to spend their whole lives here from the very moment they’d laid eyes on it, even accounting for their older years when they wouldn’t be so good on the stairs. She once told me that the second she stepped through that front door, she’d known this place would be her forever, in much the same way she’d known Albie would be, the very second she’d seen him playing football with his friends, too.
Her home looked exactly the same as it always had, with plush cream carpets, soft greys and magnolia walls that were dotted with framed pictures of Tim, Amie, and Danny wherever you went. I knew I featured on some of them, too. Florence, at one point, had been family to me. She’d treated me like the granddaughter she never had, and a sudden wave of grief washed over me.
I pressed my hand to my chest and sucked in a breath.
“This place smells just like her,” I said, glancing around. “That air of vanilla and apple. Apple pie with cinnamon.”
“It’s like she’s still here,” Danny said, just as the front door closed behind him. “I keep expecting her to walk in from the kitchen with a plate of cookies or something.”
I looked up at him to see sad eyes as he, too, glanced around. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Kinda.”
“It’s okay to not be okay. You know that, right?”
He turned to me, holding my gaze for a few seconds before he nodded softly. “Yeah, I know.”
“I see you haven’t gotten any better with the whole allowing yourself to be vulnerable t
hing,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.
“Really? I could have sworn you saw me holding back the tears at Atley House the other day.”
My lips parted to speak, but nothing came out.
He huffed out a small laugh and leaned closer. “I can be vulnerable, Zee, but you might not like what you see when I split my chest wide open in front of you, so be careful what you wish for.”
“Good job on not making this awkward, too,” I said quietly, unable to take my eyes off his lips.
Danny laughed properly then, stepping back and turning towards the kitchen. “My bad. Come on. Let’s stop pretending there’s no sexual tension between us and get to work before we both do something only you’ll regret.”
I stared at him as he walked away, his swagger strong and confident, while I stood there, mute.
An entire dictionary of words hung on the tip of my tongue, desperate to arrange themselves in some sort of order that would spout a shit load of denials right at him.
I don’t want you.
Dream on, Superstar.
Over my dead body.
But not even my false anger could force one of them out. Instead, I followed him… wondering what life would have been like if I’d have been brave enough to have done the same all those years ago, too.
Twenty-One
We’d walked through the house several times already, and while I’d granted Danny permission to pack up some things that would never get used again, like Florence’s collection of 1950s dresses, and her wardrobe full of barely worn but very elegant shoes—along with Albie’s wardrobe, too—I was finding it hard to let go. She hadn’t been my grandmother, but everything in this home had served a purpose in her life, and us waltzing in here and throwing those things into a box seemed tacky to me—to my heart. More importantly, to Florence’s memory.
“What about the stack of appliances she has in the pantry?” Danny asked, stretching up to a top shelf in there, making his T-shirt ride up and expose a slither of golden skin… until he landed back on his heels with a grunt. He spun around to hold out a box with a frown on his face. “What the hell is a spiraliser?”