Page 67 of All the Forbidden Things

I frown. How the fuck does he know I have a tattoo on my back?

“The top you had on yesterday, it was hanging off your shoulder, and I saw it,” he explains.

“Oh. It’s a lotus flower. I had a really shitty one done in Thailand when I was there with Cal and Melissa years ago. It was supposed to be a lily, but it didn’t look like anything much, and I hated it. Drew, my, erm, friend who I worked with in the States is covered in ink. He had a friend in San Diego with a studio, and he booked me in with him to have it covered. The new one takes up my whole shoulder blade and curls over my shoulder. I love how it looks now,” I witter on, over-explaining.

His eyes travel from my face to my shoulder and across my chest, and he takes in my T-shirt and smirks. “Carnage? You’re such a little fangirl.”

I shrug. “Unashamedly so. One of the greatest bands Britain has ever produced. Layton and McCarthy are up there as one of the world’s best song writing duos.”

“You know they own our label? Their agency reps the band?”

“Of course I do. I’ve met Marley a couple of time . . . and when I say met, I mean I was introduced to him but lost all and any ability to speak, breathe, pretty much every cognitive behaviour I possess. To be honest, I just stood there, but I was only fourteen. I’d handle things much better if the opportunity ever arose again.”

I wouldn’t. I’d totally lose my shit, but I’d never admit to that.

“I’ll have to see what I can arrange.” He licks his lips.

I stare at them. I’m scared to step back because I’m not sure how much landing there is behind me before the stairs start, and the last thing I need to be doing on the first official day of my new job is to go arse over tit down the stairs backwards with his mum here to witness the unfortunate event.

“That would be life-changing. Thank you.”

Max gives a small you’re-welcome type of nod before asking, “Why are you over here so early?”

Right, time to get professional.

“Well, I,wehaven’t discussed anything regarding my role, so I wasn’t really sure what time you expected me. I thought too early would be better than too late. I didn’t realise your mum was going to be here though.”

“Me neither.”

“You did need . . . I mean, if you don’t need me—”

“No, yeah, I do. Need you, I mean . . .” He smiles and shakes his head. “Let’s get a coffee and talk about exactly what I’ll need from you.” His eyes flick to my mouth as he says the last bit.

I didn't imagine that. They definitely did.

“Okay,” I agree. “Coffee will be good. I struggle without it in the morning.”

He tilts his face up towards the ceiling before casting those hawk-like eyes my way. “Shit, there’s no coffee machine in the flat, is there? We took it out at the weekend and put it in the studio. I’ll order you one online this morning.”

“No, it’s fine. I can get my own. If you don’t mind, there are a few things I’d like to get, you know, to make it more mine . . . if that’s okay with you, of course?”

“Course it is, but I’m more than happy to get you anything you need. The place has central heating, Wi-Fi, a smart TV, built-in Bluetooth sound system. The kitchen should be fully kitted out with everything else you might need . . . except a coffee machine, of course.”

“Well, once I get one, I’ll be all set.”

“I’ll order you one this morning.”

“No need. I’ll get my own.”

He huffs. “Bamm, consider it a perk of the job.”

“Wow, you’re a punny bloke. Cracking Dad jokes so early.”

He frowns before leaning into the glass and timber panel that surrounds the top of the staircase. “Dad jokes?”

“Coffee machine,perkof the job. I see what you did there, or was at least trying to. Best stick to music, Max, leave the comedy to those who are naturally funny.”

He rolls his eyes as he folds his arms across his chest. “Iamfunny. I wasn’t trying to be funnythenbut, yeah, I can be funny.”