“Ridge,” I demand as the music fades behind us. “You do not get to?—”
He shoves open a door near the back of the club and pulls me inside.
The bass cuts off abruptly, replaced by thick, muffled quiet and a dull thumping I feel more than hear. Shelves line the walls, stacked with cables and equipment. We must be in an AV closet.
The door shuts, and then I hear the lock turn. I spin on him. “You can’t just haul me back here.”
“I can,” he says evenly. “And I just did.”
“That doesn’t make it okay.”
“No,” he agrees. “But you couldn’t hear me out there. I want you to understand what I’m telling you.”
He steps closer, not touching me, but close enough that my back brushes metal. The space disappears, my pulse skids.
“Someone asked about you tonight,” he says. “Not casually. Not in passing. And not someone who should know your name.”
My chest tightens despite myself. “Ridge, you’re overreacting.”
“I’m not.”
Silence stretches between us, dense and humming.
“And what,” I ask, “you expect me to do exactly what you say?”
“I want you to lie low for a while, until I tell you it’s safe.”
“I’m not living like that,” I shoot back. “I’m not doing is disappearing every time you decide the world is dangerous.”
His gaze drops to my mouth for a brief, loaded second before lifting again. “You think I don’t know what that costs you?”
“Then stop acting like I’m reckless.”
“I’m acting like someone who just learned how easy it would be to hurt you.”
The words hit harder than his grip ever could.
The air between us tightens, charged and restless. His breath brushes my cheek. Mine catches, traitorous.
For a moment, neither of us moves. Then, his hand lifts and stops just short of my waist.
“If you walk back out there,” he says quietly, “I won’t stop you.”
My pulse pounds. My body leans in even as my spine stays straight.
“Then unlock the door,” I say.
He holds my gaze for a long beat. Then he reaches past me and turns the lock. The click echoes loudly in the small space.
TWENTY-FOUR
Ridge
Louis Armstrong and King Oliver:Joe "King" Oliver, a prominent New Orleans cornet player, mentored a young Louis Armstrong, recognizing his talent and giving him opportunities to perform. Their close friendship began in the city’s vibrant jazz scene, laying the foundation for Armstrong’s rise as a global icon. This bond, formed in New Orleans, profoundly influenced the development of jazz, shaping the genre’s history.
The closet is cramped,humming with electronics and thick with Coco’s perfume.
She’s pressed against me, every curve lining up like it was always meant to be this way, and the lack of space only sharpens the need.
