Page 111 of Don't Bang a Bandmate

“It’s on hers, too.”

I pause. “No, it’s not.”

Addison’s eyes bleed with sympathy. “Look, Brony, I know you didn’t have the most positive examples of love growing up?—”

“Addison, don’t?—”

“Let me finish. Please.” She takes a breath and I nod. “My dad didn’t want me, either. And my mom pretty much abandoned me. So, believe me when I say that I understand the hesitation that comes with opening yourself up to somebody. Love can be a real cruel bitch sometimes, but I really think that if you tell Jordan how you feel — how you’vealwaysfelt — then?—”

“Addy, stop,” I say. “That’s not why I’m not gonna tell her.”

She goes quiet, her soft eyes asking for her.

I sit down on the edge of the bed. “It won’t matter,” I say, swallowing hard. “She doesn’t want a guy like me. Who would?”

Addison sits down beside me, the hard mattress barely bowing beneath her light weight. “What are you talking about?” she asks.

“I’m not Christian Myers,” I answer. “I’m not the charismatic frontman or the hot guitarist. I sit on a stool downstage and I bang on some drums. No one wants that. Especially not her.”

“Bronson, you are so much more than that!”

“Jordan wants a guy who’ll serenade her on stage or write songs for her or throw her over his shoulder and carry her to bed. That’s not me. That’s...him.”I look at Addison. She sits with a slouch, her mouth hung in a deep frown. “How can I ever compete with a rock god? Or a billionaire. I’m just a guy.”

She scoffs at that. “You are not just a guy. Youarea rock god.” She pivots toward me when I shake my head. “Holy hell, Brony! How many women have you picked up after a show over the years, huh?”

“That’s sex,” I say. “Sex isn’t love. It’s just sex.”

“I used to think that, too. And then I met someone who blurred the lines. Now, I...” A smile touches her lips. “I can’t imagine my life without him. Harvey sings to me in every way. I’m his muse, you know? I always rolled my eyes when Knox and Jonah talked about that bullshit, but now I get it. I want that same happiness for you, too.”

“I appreciate the thought,” I say. “And I’m happy for you, Addison. But you just proved my point.”

She frowns as I stand up. “Come on, Bronson. Women don’t really care about that over the top stuff. We just want a guy who will be loyal and dependable. Who’ll listen to us whine about our problems and make us laugh. And I know you make her laugh, because the milk nostril incident of 2011 is still burned into my brain.”

I plant my back against the bathroom door and cross my arms. “If she doesn’t care about the other stuff, then why is she with him now?” I ask.

“Because you are too chicken shit to tell her what she really means to you.” She stands up. “There’s still time. You can stop her before she goes on this date tonight.”

“You mean march down the hall to her room, confess my love to her, throw her over my shoulder, and carry her away?”

“Uh... yeah,” she says. “That’d be a good start.”

“Sorry, Addison,” I say. “That’s not me.”

She releases a heavy sigh as she reaches into her back pocket. “Well... I’m being summoned,” she says, tapping out a reply text.

“Summoned?”

“Jordan’s getting ready for her date,” she says. “Us girls are helping.”

“Have fun.”

“I’m not going. There are sides to be taken here, and I’m on yours.”

“This isn’t war, Addison.”

“Yes, it fucking is.” She snorts. “And that’s how I know you’ve already lost.”

“Just go,” I say, wanting to be alone. “She wants you to be there.”

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