MELISSA
Chase is tenser than he seems to want to let on. He’s holding it in for me, so I play along and calm myself with some chatter.
“Maybe we should actually go to the film festival. You got those tickets already and I’ve never been to one.” I frown as I realize something. “I’ve never been to the movies at all. Not in a theater.”
“We can absolutely fix that.” He puts his hand back on the steering wheel. “It’s not as fun as it used to be. You certainly couldn’t get in with a g*n in your purse.”
“I don’t want to get into the habit of carrying this thing.” I look at my purse; the end of the g*n’s grip pushes the lavender leather out slightly. I nervously push it under the seat with my feet.
“You’re just keeping it for protection, I know, but guns bother the hell out of me.” He takes a
