Page 88 of All the Forbidden Things
“Ha, I don’tplayin my studio; I create.” He gives a small laugh before adding, “Play? Fucking cheek.”
I give up the fight, slide my eyes to his, and roll them. “Sorry, maestro. You could’ve gone to your studio and created your next masterpiece.”
As soon as I finish speaking, my eyes dart to his chest. I have absolutely zero willpower where this man’s bare chest is concerned . . . or any other part of him, bare or otherwise.
My gaze wanders from his pecs, across his ink-covered shoulders, up to his throat. They settle on his lips for a moment, causing me to involuntarily lick my own before meeting his intense stare. I watch as his brows rise and fall quickly while a small smile causes his lips to twitch.
“No need.” He tips his head towards the corner of the room. An acoustic guitar leans against a black velvet chair and a pair of purple headphones lay on the floor next to it. “I got creative here. Layla sleeps pretty well through the sound of a guitar. It’s when I start to sing that she objects.”
“Should’ve connected her headphones up to Spotify and let her listen to Ed or Lewis Capaldi—you know, someone with a decent voice.”
“A decent voice?” He nods as he speaks. “I remember a freckle-faced kid once telling me I was her favourite singer, better than JT and James Morrison.”
“Pfft, what would a kid with freckles know?”
He rests the corner of his forehead against the back of his hand and smiles at me. It’s a soft, gentle smile that radiates from both his lips and his eyes and warms me from the inside out.
“You should smile more often,” I tell him. “It suits you.”
“Is that right?”
I nod slowly and lick my bottom lip before dragging my teeth over it. He watches the action, and I like that he does.
“I’ve not had much to smile about lately, Bamm.”
“Hopefully, a long weekend in the country can help with that.”
“Oh, I think just getting away from here can help with that, and we’re not only going for a weekend now, we’re probably gonna stay a few weeks, maybe a month. You okay with that?”
A month in the country with Max Young, hmm?
“I think I could endure a few weeks away from London.”
“Good, I’ll probably sleep better tonight knowing that.”
“Well, if you can’t, you could always bring Layla to my place and get creative.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, Billie, I could most definitely get creative at your place.”
“I meant . . . I didn’t mean . . . I meant . . .”
The alarm sounds, letting us know the gates have been opened. We stare at each other, and I realise I’ve never flirted with anyone like this in my life. I have explosions in my chest, and cartwheels being performed by many things with wings inside my belly. But I don’t care.
He’s a married man.
He’s my boss.
He’s my brother’s best friend.
He’sallthe forbidden things.
But I don’t fucking care.He’swhat I want. I haven’t survived all that I have not to go for what I want in life, and right now, Max Young is exactly what I want.
“I need to go down and see who that is, Bamm,” he tells me quietly.
“Do you?” I question.
“Unfortunately, yeah, I do.”
