“Hey, babe. Come here for a second.” Brian peeked out from the kitchen, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. He wore a cheesy, excited smile that meant he was up to something—something he thought was romantic or epic, or epically romantic.
When she reached the kitchen, he was sitting at the table with his feet up, his toes hidden by her slippers, which he had apparently stolen. He didn’t say anything when she entered but simply continued to stare at his phone. She’d played this game before. Whatever it was he wanted her to see, it was most likely in plain sight.
Nothing was on the counter except the same dirty dishes she had left there for the last two nights. The wine glasses were still in the sink, and the same banana peel was sticking out of the garbage pail from that morning. God, she wasn’t in the mood for this, particularly not at five in the morning before she’d even finished her coffee. Holding in a sigh, Hannah faced the fridge. Her eyes wandered from her yoga schedule to the sandy beach magnet her parents had gotten her on their last weekend in Cape May to the My Plans Are Better than Yours magnetic clip she used to hold tickets and press passes for whatever show she was covering. The clip should’ve been empty, but it held a pair of tickets.
She grabbed the tickets, loving the feeling of them between her fingers. Her eyes widened as she took in the band name—Wilderness Weekend. “How did you get these?”
Brian’s lips parted in a toothy smile. “Surprise.”
Surprise, indeed. These tickets had sold out in six minutes, and Dave had won the straw poll to cover the show despite Hannah’s adamant protest that she’d wanted—needed—to be at the Wilderness Weekend ten-year anniversary show at Irving Plaza. But Riley was keen on not playing favorites, and any double requests were settled with drawing straws or pretzel rods, whichever happened to be closer.
A cacophony of emotions hit Hannah—excitement, love, regret, and disappointment. She fought back the unexpected tears that came with them. Her heart ached at the perfect gift from her imperfect boyfriend. After all her traitorous thoughts yesterday, this. She clipped the tickets back to the fridge and planted a huge kiss on him. He responded in kind, but her heartache remained. Hope was a cruel companion. This wasn’t the first time he’d gotten everything exactly right, and hope made her lose her resolve—he could change. He wouldn’t, but he could.
“Thank you, Bri. These are perfect.” She sat on his lap, running her fingers through his too-long hair. “Now explain how you got them!”
She felt him holding back laughter, and he kissed her cheek. “Well, I just called Leonard Nulty up—”
Hannah swatted him playfully.
“How do you think I got them? I was primed and ready at my computer for nearly a half hour before the sale opened. I preregistered so all my billing and shipping information was already in there. Right at ten o’clock, I refreshed and purchased them.”
“Do you know how hard I tried to get these?” She hugged him again.
“Yes, I do.” He laughed. “Happy birthday, babe.”
She moved to her own chair and put her feet up on his lap. Why couldn’t it always be like this? “So, are you finally going to come see Wilderness?”
“Uh, no.”
And there it was—the Brian of the situation.
“You’ll have much more fun with Kate or Riley.”
“Riley is nine months pregnant.”
He nodded, his expression neutral. “Somehow I don’t think that would stop her from attending a concert, but fine, Kate or Stephanie.”
He wasn’t wrong. Kate and Stephanie were great concert partners. They were willing to get up close and personal, equally willing to find a good spot in the middle of the pack. But neither of them were Wilderness fans. Kate had gone to a show or two back in the day and would come if Hannah asked, but this show would be crazier, louder, and more overcrowded than ever—just the way an anniversary tour should be. Kate would hate it. Fans had been listening to them for a decade, and some of their songs had never been heard live before. It was a once-in-a-lifetime gift.
“Come on,” she said, nudging him with her foot. “Me, you, and hundreds of other fans packed into Irving Plaza. It’ll be sweaty and sexy, and there’s a very good chance you’ll get laid afterward. I’ll even spring for dinner and ridiculously expensive concert cocktails.”
She didn’t know why she was pushing. Finding someone to go with her would be easy. She worked for a music magazine, after all, and she had her “Wilderness” friends, several of whom hadn’t gotten tickets either. She knew there was no way Brian was going to go with her. He’d never attended a show with her despite all the free tickets and backstage passes she’d thrown at him. But he had bought these tickets—a pair of them. Somewhere in the fine print, it must have stated that the purchaser of two tickets could not turn down the invitation to attend, just like it was assumed that the receiver of the pair would take the gift giver.
“You know I don’t mosh.”
Hannah laughed, pushing herself to her feet. “I promise you, there is no moshing at Wilderness Weekend shows.”
Brian didn’t crack.
She took a final sip of her coffee and placed the mug near the sink with the rest of the dishes. She’d wash them before her shower. “Fine. I’ll find someone. Thanks again for the tickets, babe.”
WILDERNESS WEEKEND, like so many things currently in her life, had first shown up during her sophomore year at the University of Iowa. They were a no-name alternative rock band—emo, if she was being honest—out of Boston on the college circuit when they’d hit her school. Six months later, their lead single had smashed into the airwaves. They’d been mildly popular since then, sticking to the alternative charts and stations, which was exactly how Hannah liked it. Wilderness Weekend and their lead singer, Leonard Nulty, had been the soundtrack to her twenties, and she didn’t see that suddenly ending as she started the next decade of her life. Every time she heard that first single, she was transported back to campus. Back to snowy days and too-drunk-to-care nights, Will and Kate by her side. She clicked on a Facebook photo album marked Sophomore Year 2. There were two of them because she was so old that albums had still only allowed sixty photos when they were created. She had most of these pictures printed somewhere, probably stashed in one of the boxes from her parents.
Will. It was so funny that he’d popped up the night before she’d gotten Wilderness tickets, since so many of her early Wilderness memories were wrapped up in him.
Her phone lit up, a picture of Kate silently flashing across the screen. Kate was on a date—the best way to wash away Teddy’s bad mojo, according to her theories on dating. There were many theories, but the call wasn’t a good sign.
She picked up the phone. “That bad?”
“I’m hiding out in the bathroom,” Kate said in a muffled voice, meaning someone else was in there. “Can you call me back in like five minutes?”
“An ‘Oh Timmy’?” Hannah asked, continuing to scroll through pictures on her computer.
“With a little more flair than usual.”
The line went dead. It was bad enough when Kate called, but an Oh Timmy with flair? That was reaching stage-five-clinger level, or as Kate called them, “Herpes”—persistent and impossible to get rid of. The next episode of Bitching about Boyfriends was going to be a doozy. Hannah couldn’t wait to hear the retold version of the story, always the most thorough and embellished when Kate was doing it for an audience. Kate would probably ask Hannah to reenact her phone call with fake distress, rapid breathing, and all.
Hannah jumped at the sound of someone knocking on her front door. No one knocked. Kate and Brian had keys, and everyone else texted their arrival. She stared at the door as if at any moment, someone was going barge in. She couldn’t decide if it would be with a knife or a cake, but it was still early for the local riffraff, and she lived on the fifth floor. Though that begged the question of who was bringing her belated birthday cake. She walked to the door, staring at it for another second. Maybe it was just one of those annoying cable salespeople. Yes, she was perfectly happy with just Netflix and Hulu. No, she didn’t miss flipping through five hundred channels for nothing to be on or to be sucked into yet another Harry Potter weekend. Fine, maybe she missed it a little, but not for the extra hundred dollars a month. The knock came again.
Hannah opened the door. Her mind registered the man kneeling on her doormat, but all she saw was the diamond ring.
Chapter 3Hannah
Hannah’s eyes widened at the boulder-sized princess cut diamond in front of her. Her heart dropped—Brian. A few hours ago, she’d been debating breaking up with him. Was he really proposing on the dirty hallway floor? Hannah blinked rapidly, trapping tears she knew were coming. She’d brought up engagement six months ago. He’d scoffed and disappeared for a week, reemerging with a tan and few apologies. But here he was on bended knee. She turned her attention from the ring to the man kneeling in front of her—the man who was not Brian.
