Page 13 of Under Pressure

He lifted it, raised his voice, and said “Does this bra belong to anyone? It’s a double D . . .” he glanced at Blue for confirmation and she nodded. “. . . purple bra with reinforced straps and lacy edges?”

By this point, Blue was in stitches again. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so hard, felt so free. She didn’t know how it was that Sean always seemed to be so blasé about things, but she liked it. He just didn’t care what people thought of him, at all. And yet, he didn’t go around behaving poorly, or doing stupid things, he just did his thing. Blue had spent her whole life until she and her dad had run away worrying about what people thought of her. As a woman in the mafia,she’d had to. She behaved because shehadto. Sean just did because he could.

“Would you stop messing around with that thing,” Don barked over the music. “You don’t know where it’s been.”

“Hey, that’s mine!” said a large woman sitting a few seats down from Don. She stood, emphasizing her height and size, which were considerable, but thankfully not as considerable as Don and Sean given the fight-vibes she was throwing off. She stomped over and held out her hand.

Don and Amelia both whipped their gazes in the woman’s direction, and Don, big tough guy that he was, flinched back. Sean’s jaw dropped as he stepped forward holding out the scrap of lace—if it could be called that, especially given the woman it belonged to. The woman whipped it from his outstretched fingers, scowl firmly in place, and turned her back on the group, and marched back to her seat.

By this point, Don’s face had gone sheet white.

Amelia covered her mouth and began to snigger, which of course sent Blue and Sean into hysterics once more.

Don faced her, looking a little shell-shocked, and said, “It’s not funny,” but even his mouth was starting to twitch up at the sides.

A happy warmth filled Blue from head to toe, that kind of feeling she’d forgotten she could feel. Being at The Venturists concert was fun, but being with Sean and his grandparents was the best.

Without overthinking it, she reached down and took Sean’s hand in her own. He glanced down, then back to her face, hazel eyes wide.

“This is the perfect date. Thanks for inviting me.”

His gaze turned warm and her stomach melted. He threaded their fingers together and she leaned her head on his massive arm. This was just what she needed.

Sean

When the concert ended, Sean and the family waited at the front of the stage for security. The crowd started to disperse, and a few minutes later, two guards appeared.

“What’s this?” Blue asked, blueberry eyes held wide. “Do you have backstage passes?”

They followed the guards to the gates and stepped past them.

“A little surprise,” Sean said.

“You’ll love it,” Amelia assured her.

Blue tightened her grip on his hand, then grabbed his forearm with her other hand.

On stage, they spotted Axel having what looked like a heated fight with his manager Chaz. Sean didn’t particularly care for Chaz—the guy was slimy—but he was a good manager.

“Oh my goodness!” Blue shout-whispered. “That’s Axel.”

“Axel! Your family’s here,” one of the security guards yelled.

Bluebell whipped her gaze up to Sean. “Family?”

Sean smirked. “Didn’t I mention? Axel’s my brother.”

She blinked at him but said nothing, and Sean had to laugh. Blue always had something to say. Didn’t mean she always said it, though he was sure she wanted to, but this was the first time he thought he’d legitimately caught her off guard.

Axel waltzed up, changing his scowl into a smile as he kissed Nonna on the cheek, and gave Grandpa a hug. Then he charged toward Sean.

Sean absorbed the impact of Axel’s bear hug, never letting go of Blue’s hand, even when she tried to disengage.

“Hey, man, thanks for the bra,” Sean said, pulling back.

Axel chuckled. “You wore it well.” He turned his gaze on Blue. “Who’s your friend?”

Blue stuck out her free hand. “I’m Bluebell.”

---