We’d row, then cuddle, it was a love-hate relationship I was just 16, hanging around outside the sunbed shop when a bloke approached me. Broad-shouldered, he swaggered over with a smirk on his face.
‘Hey, what’s your name?’ he asked me.
My heart thumping, I hesitated, fiddling with my school uniform.
‘Chelsea,’ I stammered.
Laughing, he shook my hand and we started chatting.
‘I’m Dean,’ he said.
Funny, confident and charming, he seemed to be a good bloke. I sort of fancied him, but he was eight years older than me.
He worked with his dad’s property developing business - I was still at school...
Exchanging numbers, I couldn’t wait to tell my mates.
I thought about him all the time. Sending flirty text messages back and forth, we really…
