Page 60 of Mr. Brightside

“That’s bullshit,” I huff, slamming my beer glass down on the bar top. “They screwed you over, Cory. You shouldn’t have last pick for a project that’s so important.”

“It doesn’t work that way.” He shrugs, defeated. “It’ll be fine. I’m just bummed.”

“Hey, at least it’s already Friday,” I try to assure him. “I’m really excited to celebrate our one-week wedding anniversary,” I tease as I rub one hand up and down his back.

He scoots his seat closer to mine, then rests his head on my shoulder and sighs. I wrap one arm around him, nuzzling in to kiss him on the forehead without giving the action a second thought.

I chance a glance across the bar to where Skippy is blatantly ignoring me, her back turned as she guzzles her wine and plays on her phone. My eyes land on Tommy for a moment, only to find him staring.

This is my bar. This is my husband. But I am acutely aware that Tommy could react like Skippy to my clearly fluid sexuality. I’m amused by her getting huffy with me. But I would hate for him to be uncomfortable.

Our eyes lock over Cory’s head, and he smiles. He lifts his glass in our direction as I breathe out a sigh of relief. “Good for you, buddy. Good for you.”

Chapter 27

Cory

Irolloverandseek him out, my hands searching and my body needy in the dark of night. I have no idea what time it is or why I’m awake. My body woke of its own volition, craving his touch. His comfort. His affection. I woke up craving Jake.

But he’s not lying next to me. I brush my hand across the still-warm fabric where I know he fell asleep in my arms. It’s not until my eyes adjust that I see he’s sitting up, perched on the end of the bed.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, my voice groggy and disjointed from sleep.

“Shit,” he mumbles as he turns to me. His face is illuminated by the blue-light glow of his phone. “I didn’t mean to wake you, baby. Go back to sleep.”

I shake my head and try to make sense of what’s happening. He didn’t answer my question.

“Jake. What’s wrong?”

He sighs, then rises out of bed and rolls out his shoulders twice. “Dem’s got a problem at the bar. Young kid who’s plastered but refuses to call a ride share. I think I need to go down there and help him.”

I nod, even though I don’t really understand.

“Why don’t they just call the police?” I ask through a yawn.

Jake makes a noise of contrition as he fumbles around to pull on his pants. “I’d like to avoid that if the kid’s just having a tough night. There were probably lots of times someone wanted to call the cops onmewhen I was his age…”

I yawn again and slump back onto the pillows. A glance at the clock tells me it’s only one thirty, meaning I’ve only been asleep for half an hour anyway. “Want me to go with you?” I offer. Not because I want to get out of this comfy bed. But because it seems like the husbandly thing to do.

“No, baby.” Jake leans across the mattress and cups my face in one hand. “You stay here and rest. If I know I’ve got you waiting for me in bed, I’ll get this sorted that much faster.”

He kisses my forehead as my eyes drift closed.

Even in sleep, my body knows something isn’t right. I don’t know if I wake up because of a noise or because I can sense he’s not there. But it’s four thirty, and I’m staring at Jake’s empty spot in our bed.

I stumble out of the bedroom and check around the condo, just in case. But he’s not in the kitchen or living room, the bathroom or the workout room. He’s not here.

We live less than five minutes away from The Oak. He said he’d be right back. Where the hell is he?

I send him a text to check in, then another a few minutes later. Both go unread.

He left more than three hours ago. He promised he’d come home as soon as he could. What if something happened? What if the kid he was trying to help got belligerent and lashed out? What if some drunk asshole ran a light or swerved and hit him?

I lean against the quartz countertop of the kitchen island, hissing when my skin touches the cold stone. Jake loves fall—so much so that the heat is off and the windows are wide open. The condo is frigid. I didn’t mind waking up to chilly fall air all week because I had him to keep me warm. But everything feels colder when he’s gone.

I don’t want to be that person. But my mind is playing tricks on me now. Coming up with worst-case scenarios. Picking at my sensibilities because of sleep deprivation and old insecurities.

I unlock my phone and just do it.