Page 38 of Don't Bang a Bandmate

They leave. Thinking I’m alone, I plant my back to the door and release a heavy sigh toward the ceiling.

“Are you okay?”

I startle, noticing Bronson standing against the bathroom door. “I’m okay,” I say. “Just... tired.”

He nods, his eyes full of words I doubt he’ll ever speak aloud.

Or maybe he’s just waiting for me to say them first.

Don’t go, Bronson.

Stay with me tonight, please.

But we agreed before.

Just a one-time thing.

“Eight o’clock,” I say instead. “Bright and early.”

Bronson stares for another moment, then he pushes off the door and nods. “Eight o’clock.”

“Goodnight, Bronson.”

“Goodnight, Jordan.”

He leaves.

13

JORDAN

Ican’t sleep.

Despite the constant stress and mental load my job entails, I rarely ever have trouble sleeping. Perhaps it’s some awesome genetic ability, or maybe my body simply shuts down from exhaustion the moment my head touches a soft pillow. But getting enough sleep following a stressful day hasn’t been much of a problem for me.

However, tonight is different.

After the band left, I instantly undressed, put on my pajamas, and crawled into my bed. Sure, there are always things on my list, but I flippantly decided that those matters could be dealt with over my morning coffee after a good night’s rest.

But every time I close my eyes, I see their faces.

Knox's judgmental glare. Addison’s disappointment. Katrina’s confusion. Jonah doesn’t seem to have a harsh opinion about the matter, thankfully.

And then there’s Bronson. Tall and stoic. Silent.

And let’s not forget Paul Monroe’s dastardly smirk.

After a few hours of rolling about and kicking off my blankets, I push myself out of bed, the need to talk tosomebodyweighing heavy on me.

My first thought, as always, is Chrissy, but with the way she was looking at August earlier tonight, she probably won’t be available until morning.

Addison would be my next choice. But again, she’s unavailable, off at a beach house party with Harvey and his college buddies.

There’s always Bronson.

I nearly stop myself from putting on my jeans three times. Sure, there’s always Bronson. Bronson is a great listener, after all. But it’s after midnight already, and he’s no doubt snoring so loudly he won’t even hear me knock.

I glance one more time at my bed and decide it’s worth a try.

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