Fly With Me | ✓

47.1

Everleigh knew that the Grammys ceremony started at 5:00 and that they had to arrive for the carpet sometime after 3:30. Maverick's personal call time was 2:45. Considering the ceremony was advertised everywhere, keeping Maverick off his phone was a horrendously intense task for someone who distracted himself with social media. Everleigh's only saving grace was that between rehearsals for their performance at the ceremony, Maverick also enjoyed when Everleigh's shirt was off. Sex was a fine distraction from the real time the Grammys started so he wouldn't be late. Right?

(She would not be judged for her distraction methods.)

(They were mutually beneficial.)

(Shut up.)

A small flash tore her attention from giving Dewey a gentle pet behind the ears while trying to ignore the dog hair on her dress. Maverick had assured her he'd packed a lint-roller but that was coming from the man who had also nearly forgot his passport on their way to Gatwick, so she wasn't holding her breath. The only reason he hadn't was because Everleigh had decided she was in charge of anything that would make or break them leaving the country; so, she supposed, he technically had forgotten it, but he had also not because he had to trust that she would have it. But mostly, he'd forgotten it.

They were in LA at that point, with their dog and their luggage and their passports, so it really didn't matter how they'd gotten there, right?

"Are you already taking photos?" Everleigh asked, slowly standing up. She'd been taller than Maverick in bare feet, but the heels really showed the difference.

Maverick was already typing, let alone taking photos. "Forgive me for taking every opportunity I can to brag about how beautiful you are."

Everleigh took a long look at him. He hadn't put his blazer on yet, but that simply meant that she got to admire how good he looked in his custom button up. Maverick's tattoo artist had a sister who was an up and coming fashion designer by the name of Indy Yamaguchi, and he had always wanted to use her for an awards ceremony. His first seemed like the best time to get her to design something. Although she'd insisted he could've done it for exposure for her, Maverick had paid her well for the designs. They were gorgeous, after all.

Indy had done a fitted pink suit for him, but the shirt was the real highlight. It was almost a shame it was going to be mostly hidden by his blazer. Fitting with MARS' Escape Velocity colour scheme, he had a button up that had a blue base—the same darker blue as Everleigh's dress—and printed purple flowers on it. A walking bisexual flag in kind of the best way possible. The flowers were gladioluses and poppies: his and Stevie's birth flowers.

Although Everleigh was convinced she was going to borrow something from Esmé or maybe Stevie, Indy had a dress for her as well. (She had cried.) (Apparently Maverick had told her that something simple was the way to go—exactly right—and she'd delivered beautifully.) An A-line cut that cinched at her waist but not enough to make her want to puke, the flowing dress ended at her ankles and nicely showed off the simple, closed toe heels she'd paired with them. The straps were thin, also plain. The dress fit her wonderfully for someone who had never met her. Indy was incredible. There were even pockets.

"It's not even done up."

"Fine by me."

"Kingston." Maybe they shouldn't have started sipping the rosé they'd bought the night before after landing. Maybe it was too much. Maybe it was just enough.

Maverick laughed. "If you turn around, I'll zip it up."

Everleigh turned. Crossed her arms. "Is this why you're always late to things? You were in there for 45 minutes and you still don't have your jacket on."