“You think I’m going to that shit after the day I’ve had?” He bumps my chest with his, signaling for me to climb off.

I twist in his lap, sitting tall so I can see him better. I do not climb off.

His arms stay on the armrests.

“Why wouldn’t you go? You love them.”

“No, I don’t,” he bites out. “You love them. When have you ever heard me listening to their music?”

“But, you got us tickets.”

“Yeah, so you could take one of your friends. I never planned on going.”

I look at him, my brow furrowing.

He never told me that. I would’ve said I wanted to go with him. I know I would’ve.

I relax my face and push my fingers through his dark hair until he yanks back, pulling out of reach, then I drop my hand to his shoulder. “I want to go with you,” I tell him. “I don’t want to go with a friend.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles coldly.

“Please?”

His face hardens.

“Jesus, Ri. No. What—”

“Please,” I repeat, my voice shaking and stress filled as I resort to begging. “Please go with me. I want us to do something together. Something out of this house. We stay in all the time now. We don’t do anything. You’re job hunting and I’m watching you job hunt, and I feel like we need this. You’re so stressed, Richard. It’ll be good to get out. And look, we don’t have to stay the whole time. We can leave whenever you’re ready. I promise. And you can continue drinking. I don’t mind. I’ll drive. Just go with me.” I hold his face with both of my hands and force him to look at me when his eyes start sliding away. “We used to do stuff together like this all the time. I miss it. Don’t you?”

“Shit’s different now. I can’t afford stuff like this.”

“Tickets are already paid for. There’s free parking on the street. And you can sneak in your own booze. People do that, I think.”

He inhales a slow, deep breath.

It’s tense and tight and I think he’s going to tell me no, and I don’t know why, it’s a stupid concert, it’s nothing, but my lip starts trembling.

I duck my chin so he can’t see it.

What’s wrong with me? Why is this so important?

I’m worried. I’m stressed out and sick with worry.

“Fine,” he grunts after several seconds, huffing out all the air in his lungs.

I lift my chin and look into his eyes.

“But I’m drinking. You’re driving. And when I say it’s time to go, it’s fucking time to go. You give me shit about me wanting to leave and we’re gonna have problems.”

“I won’t!” I throw my arms around his neck and squeeze him tight. Relief floods my veins and warms my skin all over. “I won’t give you shit! I promise! And it’ll be fun, you’ll see. We’ll have so much fun.”

“All right. Get off me.”

“Hold me back first,” I request.

I need it, I whisper inside my mind. We need it.

A light touch grazes my hip.

I shake my head against his, then smile into the crook of his neck when he draws both arms around me and holds on, just like he used to.

I hold on too, closing my eyes.

Yes.

We are getting over this bump.

“YOU TULLY?”

I jerk my chin at the guy standing at the security booth after he speaks, then throw a look of appreciation at the bouncer who led me over here before he steps away.

“Name’s Mark. I’m running things tonight. It’s good to have you,” the guy says.

We shake hands.

“Yeah. Don’t mention it,” I reply.

He looks around the venue and gestures. “Packed joint tonight. Shouldn’t get too crazy with this band and the crowd it’s bringing out, but we never wanna risk it. It’s good having backup.”

“How many of us you got?” I ask him over the music when the band starts playing, leaning closer to hear his response.

“You and another guy who’s already here. He's hanging out up by the stage. Plus, a bunch of our guys.” He hooks his thumb at the floor to ceiling windows along the front of the building, adding, “I got some uniforms on the street keeping that shit under control in case people get tossed out.”

I nod, liking what I’m hearing.

The Red Door isn't the biggest venue I've worked security on, but it's big enough. Managing this shit alone can present a challenge. And by the looks of it, it's a sold out show.

The more eyes we got on the crowd, the better.

“You run into any problems yet?” I ask.

The guy shakes his head. “Nah. Just normal shit. People trying to sneak in their own booze,” he replies, glancing at the door where everyone is filing in. “Confiscated it. No issues. Everything else seems to be running smooth.”

“Good,” I say when I meet his eyes. “I'll keep near the back since the other guy's covering the front.”

“Sounds good, man.”

We exchange another handshake, then I step away and move through the crowd.

I stop near the center of the room and stay to the back like I said so I can have full view of the floor that's packed with bodies, some keeping position and others moving away from me, pushing to get closer to the stage.

Bringing my arms across my chest, I stand tall and do a sweep of the place. I’ve been here before so I know the layout.