“Are you okay?” I grazed the back of my hand against his.
He reached for my hand, then snatched it away, his eyes darting around. “I’m fine. Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I took his hand and squeezed. People can be dicks when it came to public displays of affection between non-heteronormative couples, but I’ve heard it all. As much as I’d wish to spare Trent the odd glances and comments, I refused to hide who we were, even if it meant offending some people’s sensibilities. Trent relaxed, as if my touch grounded him. “If you’re okay being out, I’m definitely on board with this.” I intertwined our fingers.
“Yeah, I am. This helps a lot.” He exhaled and stoked my knuckles with his thumb.
“Safewords are not only for sex, you know. You can use one in a situation you want to get out of. If you feel uncomfortable today at any moment when you’re with me, just say—” I pursed my lips. Red wouldn’t work so well in a public setting. “What’s your least favorite lollipop flavor?”
“Depends on the brand, but the lime ones are usually quite shit.”
“Then lime is your safeword, okay?” I squeezed Trent’s fingers and got a smile in return.
“Yeah, I’ll remember that.” He lifted our linked hands and kissed my knuckles. “Thank you.”
“Thanks for coming with me today. I love concerts, but I hate going alone.”
We turned onto Lansdowne Street and from there saw the theater-like sign of the MGM Music Hall. I showed our tickets at the entrance and we walked through the interior filled with wooden fixtures and red accents.
“It’s so pretty here,” Trent said as we took our seats at the second level in the middle.
“It used to be called Fenway Theater back in the day.” I spread my arms wide to indicate the red folding chairs and the crimson curtain on both sides of the stage. I nudged Trent’s side. “Look at the people in casual wear. See, you had nothing to worry about.”
“Okay, you were right,” he said with reluctance. “Some people are wearing jerseys, but there are like five of them.”
I waved my hand in dismissal. “You look great, and we’re here to enjoy the concert. Unless you won’t, then we’ll leave. Just let me know.”
“Oh, I’ll have fun.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because you love the music, I will love you enjoying it.”
Fuck me. I kissed his cheek, then his lips. Three big words threatened to spill again. “Thank you,” I said instead, like a fucking chickenshit.
The opening act was a band that went on tour with Dropkick Murphys. They had a similar vibe but their music was more leaning towards folk with melodious lyrics.
By the end of it, we went to grab beers and returned in time for the band change. As usual,The Foggy Dewby Sinead O’Connor & The Chieftains played from the speakers as the intro, calming everyone down with the singer’s beautiful voice. Then, the bagpiper walked across the stage first playingCadence To Armsas the rest of Dropkick Murphys entered one by one.
The band consisted of two electric guitars, an acoustic, bass, and vocals. The drums sat in the middle at the back, and a whole station of smaller instruments stood next to a guy with bagpipes.
Trent let go of my hand and waved when prompted by Ken, the lead vocalist, during the next several songs.
Everyone lost their collective shit and sang along when the band playedFor Boston,then went straight intoThe Boys Are Back.
Soon enough, Trent was singing the catchy chorus with the rest of the fans belting out the words.
“You didn’t tell me you’re such a Dropkick Murphys fan, you know the lyrics.” I elbowed him.
“Well, I wasn’t. But I wanted to be prepared, so I listened to them over the last week.”
He was too cute for words. “And?”
“I likeGoing Out in StyleandRose Tattoothe most. I don’t remember the titles to the rest.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t want to embarrass you by standing here like a dumbass.”
“Oh, Cupcake. You wouldn’t.” I side-hugged him, wanting to climb on his lap and kiss the fuck out of him.
How on Earth did I find this man?Or did he find me?
