Page 132 of Don't Bang a Bandmate

“Can’t believe you did that.”

“Thank you, Jordan.”

“You’re amazing, girl!”

“Okay,” she says, strained, her head angled upward for air. “Okay. I love you guys, too.”

I release the group first and step back. One-by-one, the others drop the hug. As they all step back, Jordan sniffs, discreetly swallowing tears as she looks around.

“Well?” she says. “Did I miss shot time?”

“Nope!” Jonah says, already reaching for the bottle of bourbon as Katrina shuffles over to grab the stack of paper cups sitting beside it. “You’re just in time.”

We each fill our cups and stand in the usual circle, but there’s somethingunusualabout this time. The air tingles around us; a warm bond that’s suddenly stronger than before.

We’re a family.

And nothing could ever break us apart.

“Three!” Katrina says, beginning the countdown.

“Two!” Addison says.

“One!” Jonah says.

“It’s shot time!”

We toss back our shots. The warm liquid tingles my throat as I make eye contact with Jordan across the circle and, almost instantly, I feel it rush toward my head as well.

Nothing could ever break us apart.

Except maybe… one thing.

“All right,” Jordan says, raising her clipboard. “Let’s table the rest for now. I promise I’ll tell you all the details later, but now we have a show. Harvey.” She nods at him. “You’ve got a crowd to warm up for us.”

“On my way,” he says, breaking off from the circle with Addison, who follows him out of the room.

And just like that, we sink into our pre-show rituals. Knox and Harmony step off to the side, whispering sweet whatever to each other as she subtly adjusts his tie so it looks good. Jonah picks up his acoustic and sits down to tune it at the last minute while Katrina continues her vocal warm-ups.

I walk out of the dressing room to find a quiet corner to stand in, my drumsticks pinched lightly in my fingers.

“Bronson?”

I pause, her voice like a bullhorn behind me. Turning around, I watch as Jordan follows me out of the dressing room, her clipboard held against her chest.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” she asks.

I nod and we shift off to the side to stay out of the way of the crew, still rushing to finish preparations.

“I just, um…” She pauses, taking a quick breath. “I just wanted to say thank you for… well, for punching Christian Myers in the face.”

I raise my brows, surprised.

“Don’t do it again, obviously,” she adds with a smile. “But, just between you and me, I appreciate that you have my back. You always have and I’ve always… liked that.”

I smile, too. “You’re welcome.” Swallowing hard, I say, “Last night.”

“Last night?” she asks.

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