Page 110 of Don't Bang a Bandmate

Deep inside, my stomach tightens.

“Thanks, Bronson,” I say.

35

BRONSON

Well, that was the longest bus ride of my life.

I kept my eyes closed through most of it, but I could still hear the constant chatter all around me. Tonight this. Tonight that. Where are you taking her, Christian? Dinner and a movie? Somewhere fancy?

Oh, nah.

First dates are for long conversations, not sitting quietly in the dark.

And Boston is far too beautiful to stay inside all night.

Wear comfortable shoes, Jordan!

When the bus finally stops outside the hotel, I hoist my duffel bag onto my shoulder and get off before anyone else. Luckily, the woman working behind the desk was a huge fan, and she recognized me instantly. When I asked her for my key, mentioning that my manager would be through shortly to properly check our party in, she handed it over with a wink and a smile. Before, I would have noted that sultry eye for later, but today, I’m just not in the mood.

I escape onto the golden elevator and head upstairs to my room, needing a little peace and quiet.

And sure, the room is silent. The walls and curtains are thick enough to block out the world. But my thoughts are loud. My memories, deafening.

Shortly after finally dozing off, I hear a knock on my door. Too tired to care, I ignore it, sinking even deeper into the pillow.

But when the knocking becomes a steady pounding sound, I roll off the bed onto my feet, knowing there’s only one person in my life who knocks like that... and she won’t stop until I open up.

I throw open the door on Addison’s determined glare.

“I need to talk to you,” she says, checking my shoulder as she plows through the doorway.

I release the door, letting it close behind us.

Addison stalks into the center of the room. Stopping by the foot of the bed, she faces me with her arms crossed and her chin up. “Did you really tell Jordan you wereall forher going on a date with Christian?” she asks.

I shrug.

“Why?” she asks.

Another shrug.

“Bronson, come on,” she says. “Cut out the silent type bullshit and talk to me.”

“I have nothing to say.”

“That’s not true, and we both know it.” She shakes her head. “I don’t get it, Bronson. Why don’t you just tell Jordan how you feel about her?”

“I told you before. Ihada crush on her growing up, but now I don’t. Now, we’re just friends.”

“Yeah, sure,” she says dryly. “Because storming off a bus before it’s even in park to get away from her is totally normalwe’re just friendsbehavior.”

“I didn’t storm off. I’m tired. I wanted to take a nap, which you are now interrupting.”

“Bronson, it’s written all over your face.”

“No, it’s not.”

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