Key to My Heart: An Anthology of Sweet Romance

by Alice La Roux

  I was tongue tied and stupid around her. My usual confidence had disappeared, and I was left a bumbling idiot. I squeezed the bridge of my nose and tried again. “It’s Dylan. Dylan from—”

  She moved the beam up my body and stopped when it was on my face, blinding me. I shielded my eyes with my forearm in a bid to see her.

  “Shit, sorry. Hi.” She lowered her torch and looked around nervously.

  I smiled, stuffing my hands into the pouch pocket of my hoodie. “It’s okay. So what—”

  “I think I’m lost.” Her words rushed out of her mouth, cutting me off. “I went to the toilet.”

  I released a chuckle. “Ah… the long drop.”

  “The long what?”

  “The long drop. The John. The bog. It’s pretty grim.”

  She grimaced. “Yeah.”

  “Some of the girls find trees to squat behind.” I looked behind me and gestured towards the dirt track at the other end of the village, even though we couldn’t see it. “Y’know. For future reference. Bit less—”

  “Smelly?”

  I laughed. “Yeah. A bit less smelly.” I toed the ground with my boot, making circles in the dust as I searched for something else to say.

  “It’s beautiful isn’t it. The sky.”

  I glanced at her, making out her form in the light of her own torch: her head was tipped back, exposing her slender throat, her hair loose and wild from sleep hanging down her back, and I imagined what it might feel like to have her in my hands, to have her close to me.

  I nodded. “The view is really quite stunning.”

  She glanced at me and caught me watching her. With a small smile, she released a heavy breath and aimed the beam of her torch back the way she’d come from. “I guess I’d better get back for some sleep. I hear the days are long and tiring here.”

  I nodded. “I’ll walk you.”

  She shook her head. “It’s okay, Dylan. I’ll be okay. Goodnight.”

  I watched her pick her way across the grass and back towards the camp, disappearing again into the blackness that swallowed everything whole.

  Was she a vision? A mirage?

  I stared into the space she’d left, breathless and completely mesmerised by the mystery of her.

  The mystery of Willow.

  The next few days played out in a similar fashion: I would take a trip to the shop, going the long way around so I could watch her. She would always know when I was there, and she would shoot me a smile before I rounded the corner. Sometimes I would go twice, maybe three times, and every time, I learned something new about her.

  I learned quickly that she was left-handed. She was a problem solver, often stepping in to help work through a team mate’s dilemma. She was determined: her resilience shone through in the way she didn’t give up, even when it was clear her body was tired. She was calm and she was composed. The frustrations of the work never got to her; she never faltered.

  And she was sexy as hell.

  Her skin was turning a golden brown from hours in the hot, African sun, a trail of freckles deepening in color across her nose and cheeks, and the way she moved... Jesus, I could have watched her all day. She was toned in all the right places and soft in all the best places, and my hands itched to smooth over her skin, to trail the dips and curves of her.

  Our evenings comprised of joint meals and campfire songs, courtesy of Mitchell and his guitar, and each night, I lingered behind, hoping she might stay with me. So far, though, I’d only been left wanting, always left hanging as she disappeared like a creature of the night.

  And then it was their fifth day, the newbies...

  We had bonded as a large group now, and new friendships were forging all the time. I trudged back to the camp after taking advantage of the shower we had the use of in a little house some of the others had rented between them. Showers were few and far between, and mine had been a long time coming. I finally felt refreshed and human again.

  I crouched in front of my tent in the evening sunshine, towel drying my hair with clean clothes on and a day off to look forward to the next day.

  “Going out clubbing tonight, Dyl?” Sabrina lay on her side beside me, chewing on a blade of grass. “You’re looking all fancy with your clean hair.”

  I laughed and stood to hang my towel over the top of my tent to dry. “A guy’s gotta maintain a modicum of self respect, even if those around him prefer to fester in their own filth.”

  “Cheeky sod. Seriously though, are you going somewhere?”

  I put my hands on my hips and looked out across the camp. “Thought I might go for a walk. Change of scenery will be good.”

  “I rather think you enjoy the scenery round here, mate.” Ricky popped his head out of the tent and grabbed Sabrina’s ankle, causing her to squeal as he pulled her towards him.

  I shook my head, amused by his accurate assessment.

  “He’s like a dog with a bone where Willow is concerned.”

  “That obvious, huh?”

  “What’s obvious?”

  I turned my head at the sound of her voice, my heartrate kicking up and my stomach flipping at the sound. She was also freshly showered, her hair piled on top of her head, and her golden skin exposed in a pale pink vest. She squatted beside Sabrina and scratched the side of her cheek. “Um, Sarki sent me to ask if we’re going to want the mini bus tomorrow. He said you were the best person to ask.”

  Sabrina sat up and sighed. “That’s because no one else around here can organise a pissup in a bloody brewery to save their own damn lives. Come on.” She stood and grabbed Ricky by the arm, encouraging him to get to his feet.

  He groaned. “Do I have to come?”

  Glaring at him—not so subtly from where I was standing, but thankfully out of Willow’s line of sight—she cocked her head in the direction of Sarki’s hut. “Yes. You do. Get up.”

  He obliged, winking at me, and hand-in-hand, the two of them left.

  A stillness settled over the surrounding area, and I looked over at Willow still crouched near my tent. I wanted to speak. I wanted to make conversation, but as always, I was tongue-tied and missed my chance.

  “I’d better get back and see if I can help with dinner.” Willow stood, but in a moment of bravery that seemed to materialise out of nowhere, I reached out, catching hold of her fingers and stopping her in her tracks.

  “Stay.” God, my throat was so dry, the word almost didn’t come out. I clenched my back teeth together and released the air from my lungs in a slow steady stream from my nose. She pulled away, slowly turning towards me, but I didn’t give her a chance to react because it wasn’t an option.

  The words kept coming, and I realised they were the only words I’d wanted to say to her since her arrival. “Please, Willow. Stay with me.” I squinted at her in the light of the evening sun—waiting, hoping. In the endless, silent moments that stretched between us, I pleaded some more with my eyes, with my soul, with my heart and with a thousand unspoken wishes. With every wild tick of my pulse, I begged her. Over and over, I begged her to stay.

  Please stay with me, Willow.

  Please stay with me, Willow.

  And she heard me, I was sure of it.

  Something about the way she stepped closer and placed her palm over my heart told me so. Something about the way she tilted her head and looked up into my eyes, told me so. And I held my breath, not daring to move in case she disappeared again.

  Stay, Willow.

  Stay this time.

  She blinked heavily, her eyes searching my face, and it took every ounce of strength to not wrap her up in my arms and hold her to me. Near her, I went to pieces. Near her, I became a mess of jumbled words and uncertain sentences, but she was where I longed to be.

  Her hand moved from my heart and she gently cupped my face, smoothing her thumb across the rough stubble of my cheek before nodding. “Okay.”

  I looked up at the sky and blew out another breath, a small smile threatening to give me away—thre
atening to let her know just how much I’d needed her to give me some of her time. Dropping my chin so that I could look at her face, so close for the first time, I noticed flecks of blue in those green eyes of hers. I noticed a scar that ran into her hairline, and I noticed her lashes were dark and long and that when she blinked, they almost dusted her cheeks. Her lips were rosy pink and, God, how I longed to cover them with my own.

  I took hold of her hand that still rested on my face and gently encased it with mine. “Have you seen the lake yet?”

  She shook her head and I gave her my best crooked smile. “Well then you must.”

  I bent down and grabbed my hoodie, slinging it over my shoulder, and walked towards the back of the camp in the direction of the lake, with her.

  With Willow.

  We didn’t speak on the walk there, but it felt okay. It felt like it was meant to be quiet, her hand in mine and the sound of Mother Nature doing her thing around us, but as we entered the clearing, I heard her gasp. The sun was setting now, painting the sky with deep oranges. There were russet reds mixed with tinges of violet and gold and the whole thing was mirrored in the shimmering surface of the lake.

  I snuck a glance at her from the corner of my eye and watched as she took in the beauty that lay like a postcard before us. She let go of my hand and stepped forwards to the edge of the lake, crouching down and trailing her fingers in the cool water. Turning to look at me, her body now a silhouette against the backdrop of the African sunset, she smiled the saddest of smiles. “It’s so beautiful. It’s so tragically beautiful.”

  I joined her, sitting back on my hands at the water’s edge with my ankles crossed, itching to touch her again, but just as happy to listen.

  “These people live in this land of devastation and disease, yet there is so much beauty and magnificence on their doorstep. I wonder if they see their world the way we see it.”

  I didn’t want to speak—I didn’t want to give a half-arsed answer to an almost-impossible-to-answer question, so I continued to soak her up and commit her to memory in case this was the only bit of her I would ever own. I’d known her for only a week, but I knew she was what I needed. I knew that having her close would fill my heart and something inside of me wondered if she felt the same. Sitting there in the silence, with the backdrop of Kenya as our window to the world, my body took on a life of its own as it craved to find out. I reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and she leaned her face into my hand, her eyes closing, a small smile playing on her lips.

  “You watch me a lot.”

  I huffed out a quiet laugh. “You watch me, too.”

  “I see you.”

  I frowned, picking up her hands from her lap and holding them, twisting a dainty silver band around on her finger. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

  She shook her head. “I see you. I see your heart and the pain that lives there. I’ve seen it in the way you sit back from the crowd and the way you throw yourself into everything you do so you don’t have to answer questions or tell stories. I see you, Dylan.”

  She looked up at me, locking her eyes with mine, and words failed me yet again. She was mesmerising, and I was just the fool who was under her spell. “You see all of that yet you never stay. You always disappear into the shadows—into the dark corners.”

  “Yet here I am.”

  I was fascinated by her. I let my eyes roam over her face and dragged the backs of my fingers down her cheek. “Yet here you are.”

  My heart was fit to burst through my chest, the way it beat against my rib cage at the intensity of her gaze and the words we exchanged.

  Who was she—this girl who saw through me like I was a piece of glass?

  “And will you stay tonight?” The words were out before I even had a chance to check they were going to make sense. I wasn’t even sure what they meant or how they would be received, but there they were, laid between us.

  Willow used my hands to pull herself to her knees before shuffling forwards so our noses almost touched. I could smell the hint of her perfume and the lemon scent of her hair and, God, did it drive me wild. I lifted my hands, resting them on her hips and attempted to steady my breathing as she fingered the strands of my hair around my forehead, her breasts rising and falling with her own shallow breaths.

  We were like magnets. We were destined to be close. I could feel it in the very depths of me and the way she held me captive with her eyes. Something more powerful than either of us was at work here, and as she let her eyelids fall closed, I knew her invitation was clear.

  A slight tilt of my chin and my mouth found hers.

  Under the darkening sky, I kissed her until our lips were sore and our bodies were cold. I wrapped her up in my arms and touched her skin. I opened up my hidden depths and silently told her she was right: she saw me—she saw every secret I’d ever hidden away and every heartbreak that had left a scar. She saw them all.

  And when the stars came into view, and I could no longer see her eyes, we walked hand in hand, our stomachs empty but our hearts full, and I asked her again.

  “Will you stay tonight?”

  She stopped and pulled me towards her with the strings of my hoodie, pressing her lips to mine once more in a silent promise that echoed in my ears. “I think I might like to stay all night.”

  I smiled a smile that would last until I died. “I think I’d like that, too.” I kissed her fiercely this time, pulling her body to mine and lifting her from the ground.

  Tonight she wouldn’t disappear into the dark shadows of the night. She would light up my life from the inside, and I would watch her as the sun rose.

  Her.

  Willow.

  Chapter One

  Blackpool Summer of 2009

  Squishing the cold and soft sand between my toes, I take in the sea and the seagulls flying above me. My family and me have just landed in Blackpool to visit some long lost Aunt of my mother’s—an Aunt I’d never heard of till my mother told me we were coming here. Apparently, she’s ill and has no children of her own to take care of her, so lucky for me, I get to spend my summer here. I’m not happy about it at all: I’m sixteen and I want to be at home with my friends, enjoying the summer with them. Yes, I'm angry about the situation, but in all honesty, there's bugger all I can do about it.

  Leaving my parents and my sister at the house, I decide to come for a walk to the beach whilst it’s quiet. The sun is setting on the horizon and it's glowing a bright pink colour across the water. Continuing my walk along the sand, I head towards the pier that's lit up with fairground rides with music blasting from what I'm guessing are some big ass speakers. Just as I'm nearing the pier, I hear some loud shouting underneath the boardwalk and two angry voices.

  I told you I didn't want to come here—my home is in Italy. The minute I'm eighteen, I'm gone.”

  “Listen to me, Matteo. Please? I don't want to be here either, but we have to make good of a bad situation right now. It is what it is, so please just calm down.”

  The second voice is a female, and all of a sudden I feel like I'm intruding on a private moment. Seeing the steps to my left, I head towards them to get away from whatever I may have stumbled up on. Climbing over some of the rocks that clutter the beach, my foot gets stuck between them, and as I try to free it, I go flat on my bottom. As I do, my foot comes loose, sending me rolling back down to where I started—by the pier—which causes me to let out a loud scream.

  Chapter Two

  Looking up at the almost-dark sky from my position on the cold sand, I’m taken aback when a boy with olive skin and the most amazing green eyes stares down at me.

  “Are you ok?” His English is perfect, but he has a strong foreign accent that I can’t place. Geography at school isn’t my best subject.

  He holds out his hand, and I hesitate at first and it’s not until he speaks for a second time that I realise that he’s real and he’s actually talking to me. “Here, take my hand. Let me help you up.”

&nbs
p; “Oh, erm, ok then. Thank you.” Taking his hand, I let him pull me up from the ground.

  “I'm Matteo by the way, but only my mother and sister call me that, and usually only when I'm in trouble. My friends call me Matty.”

  Letting go of his hand, I wipe my hands on my denim shorts before holding my hand back out and saying, “I'm Jolie, thank you for picking me up off the floor.”

  He retakes my hand and instead of shaking it he kisses the back of it. “It's very nice to meet you, Jolie. And let's just say, my mother wouldn't have raised me right if I didn't help a damsel in distress.”

  Pulling my hand away from his, I look down at the floor as embarrassment floods my cheeks. Tucking a loose piece of hair that's broken free from my ponytail behind my ear, I finally look up at him and smile.

  “You don't need to be shy around me, bella; I'm not going to pounce on you.”

  Now if an English boy had said that to me, I wouldn't have believed him, but him saying it to me makes me smile harder, if that's even possible.

  “I should go. My mum will be having a heart attack if I don't get back soon. Again, thank you for all your help, I do appreciate it.” Walking away from him, I climb over the rocks only this time I do it a lot more carefully. Reaching the top of the steps something in me tells me that he’s still there behind me and that I have to turn around. Listening to my gut, I look over my shoulder and surprise, surprise, my gut is right. He’s still standing where I left him by the rocks with a smile on his face and it’s aimed right at me.

  “You get home safely now, Jolie.”

  Lying in bed that night, all I see when I close my eyes is a boy with sparkling green eyes and a smile that could even bring a girl my age to her knees.

  Chapter Three

  Waking up the next morning to the bright sunshine shining through my bedroom window, I make quick work of getting washed and dressed before heading down the stairs for breakfast.