Page 117 of Show biz

It’s like when they apologized the running track that repeatedly tells me I’m not good enough wasn’t as loud. I don’t hate them as much, but I can’t trust them yet either, which means they aren’t forgiven.

“It gets cold back here so there’s always a million blankets on this bed,” I giggle. “The only time I’m not cold is when I’m sleeping with someone, which is more often lately.”

“I promise to keep you warm, Baby,” he murmurs as he crawls into bed. Grabbing the back of his shirt, Mav pulls it off in a way that makes all of his muscle contract.

Why is that so sexy? Mav has a tattoo on his forearm, but he moves too quickly for me to see what it is. I’ve caught glimpses of it, and it looks like some kind of bird.

Tossing his shirt away, he flicks the button on his jeans before stilling. “I can’t sleep in these pants…”

“It’s fine, Mav. Strip,” I tease him. It was cold when I stepped outside this morning, so I pulled on a sweater. It’s baggy and unflattering, but it did the job. Pulling it up and over my head, I toss it the way of his shirt with a giggle.

Mav stares at me appreciatively in my tank-top as he shucks off his pants before getting under the blankets with me. “Layla, Baby, there’s like a million of these,” he complains as he starts throwing them off until there’s a thin blanket over us. “Come here and snuggle. If I get the privilege of sharing a bed with you, then I want cuddles.”

“You’re like the world’s gentlest giant,” I tease him as he pulls me into his arms. In the dark, it’s easier to pretend things could have been different.

“I’m gentle for you,” Mav says softly. My back is against him as he curls around my body, and he rests his chin on my shoulder. His goatee tickles me as he rubs it against me. “I have to apologize for something else…”

“Hmm?” I ask as his fingers push aside the strap of my tank-top to look at my tattoo. It’s a blue songbird, and the first and only tattoo that I have. There are musical notes that escape from its mouth.

The artist I had it done with was really talented and did an incredible job.

“My pretty little Songbird,” he grunts reverently. “I never should have tried to scare you with my size. I’m a big fucker, intimidating at times, and I used it against you, because you’re much smaller than I am. I think I wanted to prove to the both of us that we were never meant to be. I was wrong.”

His arms are around my waist, and I can’t resist. I need to see his tattoo. Flipping over his right arm, I pull it up to see there’s a beautiful blue bird on his forearm. Running my fingers over it, I realize it’s a much larger version of mine.

“I didn’t have any tattoos until we went to the UK,” Mav chuckles. “I got really drunk and lost my shit not long after we joinedPull Down the Moon.Even the name of the band was completely different from the sunny personality you emit. Atlaswent with me and had no idea I was getting this until afterwards. He refused to talk about it, but it reminded me of you.”

“If you hated me, why did you get this? It’s a larger version of my bird,” I sigh.

“Because I love you,” Mav murmurs. “You’ve always been my Songbird. I only hated that I couldn’t have you.”

The bird has the same black notes leaving his beak, and it’s gorgeous. “Why are you so dumb,” I whisper.

Mav flips onto his back, pulling me with him, so that my head is on his shoulder. “If you hated me, then I felt like I was making the right decision. There’s no way you could or should like me, because I’m clearly not good enough for you. At least, not while Atlas and I were being assholes. When you put me on my ass and really made me see you, I started to realize it was all bullshit.”

“Why? What about that changed things?” I ask.

“You’ve always been my Songbird,” he says, showing me the tattoo again. “Atlas and I caged you with regret and lies. I wanted to free you from mediocrity, but what we did wasn’t right five years ago. Atlas feels the way I do. We’ll be anything and everything you need now.”

“What about what you need?” I ask. My eyes are getting heavy again, because Mav really is warm.

“We need our sunshine. We’ve been lost without you,” he whispers as I drift off.

“Almost done,”Lennon murmurs as she does my hair. My bus has turned into ground zero for planning our night atThe Library.

“Can I come in?” Greg is a family friend and often runs mercenary work in conjunction with his jobs for thegovernment. I once heard Roark say he may as well be a ghost because there aren’t any records of him having worked for the government. People still whisper his name though because he’s lethal.

“Sure,” I tell him. I’m dressed in a blush and white cream dress. Seán had Tyler pick it up from a designer store, insisting that I wear it. Tonight must be pretty damn special for him to be micromanaging everything.

“Perfect, thanks,” Greg murmurs, stepping inside before staring at me in awe. “Damn, you look amazing. Can I ask where your weapons are going in that?”

The dress is a tulle and appliqué flower monstrosity. Don’t get me wrong, it’s gorgeous, but it’s also very sheer in places. The dress is tea length without feeling like it’s a bridesmaids gown. It’s also a well fitted halter-top, and there’s no room for a bra to tuck a knife into. Lennon and I attempted it.

“Her hair,” Lennon says calmly, holding up an exceptionally sharp bobby pin. I’m trained in using a garrote, but my sister doesn’t want me to be that up close and personal with anyone for as long as it takes to strangle someone.

The thought turns my stomach a bit, though knives don’t bother me.

My bobby pins are a happy medium because they’re very long and sharp, helping to hold my hair up in a chic chignon. My earrings are dangly rose and clear beads, and my shoes are dark rose pumps. If I have to make a run for it, I will be sacrificing them because they’re very tall.

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