Tyler & Stella (Tattoo Thief) Read Online Free PDF Page A

nearness of him raises every hair on my arm, alerts every nerve ending, and fries my brain. He nearly stumps me with the line, “What do you do with a B.A. in English?” but then I remember it’s from Avenue Q .
    Is he trying to distract me? The gleam in his eye tells me he is, so I fight dirty, drawing from a musical that’s rarely performed in the United States.
    “Tell me it’s not true. Say it’s just a story, something on the news.” I speak the line with the syncopation of the song.
    Tyler’s face is blank. He knows I’ve caught him and it’s just a matter of time before he admits it.
    “Um, it was that one show, you know which one I mean. The one with the guy and the girl and the dancing and the music?” He cracks a hopeful smile and runs his hands through dark hair that’s long on top, pushing it out of his face.
    “You’re wrong. There were two guys. Brothers.”
    “Right!” Tyler exclaims, as if he’s picked up on my broad hint. “And one guy had a nose, right in the middle his face?”
    I laugh. “You give up?”
    Tyler hangs is head. “Under duress.”
    “Blood Brothers, ” I say. “Willy Russell.” I stab my fork into the point of a thin slice of chocolate ganache cake and chuckle. I love to win.
    Tyler’s hand darts across the table, scoops up a gob of whipped cream from the side of my plate and dots it on my nose. “Clever girl. I should have known better than to underestimate you. I hereby declare you the winner.”
    I grab my napkin and wipe my face while Tyler licks his finger. The move brings another flush to my face and I gulp more water to stay cool.
    Stay cool, my ass. He’s promised me a story and I’m playing a stupid lyrics game with him rather than reporting my next story.
    But maybe this incongruity could be the hook?
    I know this about writing about stars: readers want to see the most fantastic, otherworldly elements of stars’ lives, but they also want the nitty-gritty details to be reassured that stars are just like us.
    This thought sobers me for my mission and I have to ask. “When do I collect my prize?”

 
    FIVE
     
     
    I stay quiet as desserts are finished, trying to blend into the background as I overhear bits and pieces of conversation. The sharpest and most quarrelsome come from Dave, and I finally learn why Tattoo Thief’s own record label threatened to sue the band for breach of contract.
    The band can’t release songs without the label’s approval. Worse, Gavin’s song was nothing like their usual material, contradicting the brand the label is working to build. Music press speculation about a solo album for Gavin is making everyone tense, especially after his two-month hiatus.
    Tyler leans close to my ear. “Do you really want to come see where we practice?” His brown eyes crinkle at the corners. He stands and I’m even more aware of how he towers over me.
    “What—now?” I balk. It’s after eleven, not exactly an hour most stars give interviews. Is this a booty call?
    Tyler shrugs. “Why not? Life’s short. If you don’t seize the moment, you could miss it entirely.” He plunges his long arms in the sleeves of a slim leather jacket and pushes his chair under the table. With or without me, he’s going.
    “I’m in.” I can’t afford to miss this opportunity for another story about Tattoo Thief and I’m thankful I have a notebook in my purse. “Let me go say goodbye to Beryl.”
    I tell Beryl I’m leaving and we make plans to meet up for lunch tomorrow to talk it out. It’s hard to look at her, quiet and kind, and to feel the depth of my betrayal reflected in her eyes. I can tell she’s still wary of me.
    Gavin stands behind her with his arms wrapped protectively around her waist and I meet his ice-blue eyes. I mouth the words “thank you” and he nods slightly.
    Tyler waits for me by the door. “Time to talk to the press!” he calls to his other band mates with a laugh. “I’m going to tell her all your dirty secrets,