Chapter 1

Miley

"There'll be bluebirds over..."

"We're going to Dorset mom, not to Dover." I interrupt as she launches into another rendition of 'The White Cliffs Of Dover."

"I know but I can sing, can't I?" She pretends to be hurt.

"It would be better if you stuck to writing," I tease.

She flashes me a grin and I smile back at her from the front passenger seat.

"This is going to be so much fun!" My mom exclaims, reaching for the button on the car's radio. She's about to settle for Radio Caroline so I quickly intervene. Dammit, there's no XFM this far out of London!

"iPod?" I hopefully suggest.

"Get it on, then," she concedes. "Anything to get you in the holiday mood."

"I am in the holiday mood!" I shoot back as I plug in my brand-new blue MP3 player –a present from my parents for my birthday. Mom gives me a discerning look before her eyes are set back on the road.

"I know how disappointed you are that Demi can't come, but you'll still have a good time. Plus, you'll be able to get started on you reading for the university."

"Mmm."

'Stay Stay Stay by Taylor Swift starts to play.

"For goodness sake, Miley, this is making me want to throw up." Mom protests after a while. "I mean it," She tells me after I decided to ignore her. "Something more upbeat, disco perhaps? Just something, please!"

I sigh, but comply. Mariah Carey and Justin Bieber's version of 'All I want For Christmas Is You' starts belting out from the speakers.

"That's more like it!" She starts to sing again.

"Mo-om." I groan. "Remember the fact that you can't sing, please."

She laughs. "Honey, smiley for crying out loud. You're going to the Cambridge University!"

"University in Cambridge mom, not the University of Cambridge." This feels like the millionth time to correct her. I'm actually going to Anglia Ruskin University but my mom seems to forget that detail whenever she's talking to her friends.

"It's still a big deal, " she says and I don't disagree because it's nice to have proud parents.

But then, not even a minute later she's gone singing off-key again. And you know what they say, if you can't beat them, join' em so I do.

My mom is a writer. She specialises in writing stories about young girls who die in the end of the book. For years she's struggled to make decent money because no one these days wants to fall in love with a character only for it to be dead by the end of the book. And even though her last publication went well, my dad is still the main breadwinner.

He's working at his lawyer firm in London during the week and will be joining us in Dorset over the weekends. It's the middle of July now, and we'll be here until the end of August.

Mom plans on spending these six weeks working on her new book which, to her delight, is being published by a big publication company in September.

As for me, initially I agreed to this long summer break because my best friend, Demi, was going to come too. She's headed off to university in Edinburgh and we're both really sad at the idea of leaving each other.

We've spent the last few years living practically in each other's houses, so this will be the end of an era. We envisaged long, lazy, full of boy-hawking days of summer, in which we'd either sunbathe in the garden or borrow mom's car to go to the beach.

But Demi's mom, Diana, recently discovered her birthmark might not be as innocent as she first thought, and it turned out to be malignant. The shock of it was immense and I still feel absolutely sick at the thought of what my friend and her family are going through.

Diana is having an operation this week to remove it and then she'll have to take some chemotherapy; so it's needless to say, Demi needs to be home right now.

"Isn't it just beautiful?" Mom says. I look out the window at the rolling green hills. "Look aren't those wild horses?" She doesn't wait for my answer. "You could have riding lesions while you're here. And there's a castle not far away from where we're staying. You can catch a steam train that takes you all the way there!"

"I know, mom, you've already told me that. Four times."

"Well, that's gotta be fun, right?"

"Sure." I reply, noncommittally. It would have been fun. If Demi were here. Oh, I hope her mom will be fine...

"You might make some new friends." Mom suggests hopefully, oblivious to my inner turmoil.

"I'm not seven anymore," I reply with a wry smile.

"I know, but I have a feeling you'll have a good time." She tries again. I think maybe she's trying to convince herself more than she wants to convice me.

The cottage where we're staying is off the beaten track. It's built out of grey stone, and a small dry stone wall that encloses a grassy green garden at the back. There's a bunch seat out at the front of it in full sunshine and I can already picture myself sitting there and tackling some of my English Lit books.

The place has been recently renovated and it feels quite cosy and homey. Mom puts the kettle on and unpacks the milk from the cool-box while I sit at the kitchen table and look over the manual left by the owners.

My mom is really tall and slim with shoulder-length blonde hair and blue eyes. I take after my father's side of the family. I'm much shorter than her, at five foot five inches tall. I have long, wavy dark brown hair. My eyes, although slightly greenish, are exactly the colour of the ocean.

"What does it say in it?" Mom asks as she puts a cup of tea in front of me.

"Pretty much everything we already know." I reply. "Apparently there is a nice walk along the cliff if you go up there," I point to the different direction to the way we came in. "There's also a small diner within walking distance if you head that way." More pointing.

"That sounds promising. Maybe we could go there for an early dinner and then relax in front of the telly for the night?"

We drive to the diner because, despite having sat in a car for almost three hours, neither one of us has the energy to walk.

Our nearest village is lovely. Limestone cottages with painted window frames in shades of blue and green line the streets, and the sea is visible across the rolling hills.

We walk up the steps to the diner. There are grey stone tables and bench seats outside with views towards the sea and we decide to come out here to sit down, but first we head inside to have a nose around, and to order.

I see him almost immediately, the guy working behind the counter. He's a bit taller than me, about a few inches, has curly hair and a silver chain with a dog tag is nestled on top of his muscular chest.

He's pulling a pint of coffee and looking down, but as he glances up his dark eyes momentarily meet mine. BAM! I know how crazy this sounds, but it feels like my heart has just leapt out of my chest and slammed into him.

Then he's looking down again, filling the mug to the brim and carrying it, somehow without spilling a drop, to a middle aged woman at the other end of the bar. The hairs on the back of my neck are standing up.

Mom snaps me out of it. "He looks to be about your age," she says, gleefully nudging me as she nods in the direction of the unsettling attractive waiter.

"Shh!" I whisper, inwardly cringing and trying –but failing- to tear my eyes away from him as he takes money from the man and pushes it into the back pocket of his jeans.

He comes out way and my pulse quickens.

"What can I get you? A big burly man with short, carefully chipped out hair and enormous moustache steps in front of us. The disappointment is intense.

"A glass of white wine, please," mom asks pleasantly. "Miley?"

"Uh..." My eyes dart back towards the guy, but he's already taking another order. "Ice tee would be great, thanks." The man gets with his job without another wod. He's wearing a homey looking sweater but there is something scary about him that I just can't pinpoint. I wonder if he's the gorgeous guy's father.

He plonks a half-pint glass full of honey coloured water into my hands. Some of it sloshes over the brim, but he makes no apologies, nor does he smile as he requests his money.

I really feel oddly uneasy about him.

"Do you have any menus?" My mom asks him.

"One right here," he tries a gleeful smile but honestly, he doesn't do a very good job at it.

I glance over my shoulder as I follow mom through the door and then I'm outside in the late-afternoon sunshine. We sit down on one of the stone tables.

"This is nice," mom says. "He was a bit tasty." She nudges me again, once more snapping me out of my reverie.

"Mom, no one says 'tasty' anymore." I sound unbothered, even though I'm not.

I try to concentrate while she engages in a conversation, but soon the gentle sound of clinking glass from behind us makes me turn around. I realise with a flurry of nerves that he's there, collecting empty bottles and glasses and plates from recently vacated tables.

"Hello!" My mom calls cheerfully.

Oh, Christ, Mum, shut up!

"Alright?" he gives her a vague smile and his eyes flicker towards mine. BAM! That feeling again. It's like I'm made of metal and he's a powerful magnet. What on Earth has gotten into me?

"We're on holiday," mom tells him. "Can you recommend anything nice to do around here?"

"Uhm," he stands upright and thinks for a moment, holding the two glasses he's collected between his fingers. "Have you been to Corfe Castle yet?"

"We've only just arrived," she shrugs and smiles.

He's wearing black jeans and a Harley Davidson T-shirt. My kind of guy.

"Where are you staying?" he asks, glancing at me. I'm unable to speak so, thankfully, mom does.

"In a little cottage over those fields. We're here for six weeks, so if you've got any ideas..."

A dog starts to bark and his head shoots around towards the diner. Almost on cue, the man who served us our drinks before, storms out.

"Nick, how many times do I have to repeat that you have to keep the bloody dog outside?!" he shouts angrily.

Nick... The gorgeous boy has a name... Well, of course he has a name, Miley.

"Coming, dad!" he shouts back wearily. "Gotta take my dog for a walk." He says to us as he turns away.

"Do you want some company?" mom calls after him hopefully, as the annoying nudging arm comes out to play once more. "Miley is desperate to meet people her own age."

"Mom, no!" I hiss, mortified.

He looks at me as my face turns bright red and I would literally give anything for the ground to open up and swallow me. I really don't care, I'm not fussy, I just DO NOT want to be here right now.

"Nick!" the man shouts from the inside, interrupting any reply.

"No, no, it's okay, you go ahead." I manage to splutter.

"Okay. See you around." He quickly makes an exit. My face continues to burn as I bury it in my hands.

"That was so embarrassing!" I screech under my breath.

"Why?" mom asks.

"I cannot believe you just did that!" I groan, shaking my head inside my palms.

"For crying out loud, Miles, he's just a boy." She replies, sounding uppity.

But he's not. He's not 'just a boy'. Do not ask me how I know this, but somewhere, deep inside, my heart has already started to fracture and I know that Nick has everything to do with it.

A/N: Let me just start by saying that I cried after I finished this book. A full on bawling-your-eyes type of crying. Because there is not a story like this out there, and trust me this love story is remarkable. That's all I have to say. P.S, I know this is short, but I just think a first chapter is better when it's short and sweet. I hope you all like this as much as I do! :)