Page 49 of Don't Bang a Bandmate

“Jordan—”

“What time is it?”

“Eight-fifteen,” I say.

“Eight?!Oh, fuck?—”

“Jordan.”I touch her shoulder as she tries to roll out of the bunk. “It’s fine.”

“No, I have to make sure everyone is up! We have a band meeting and then I have to call the venue and?—”

“Everyone is at breakfast.They’ll be ready for the band meeting at nine.”

Her eyelids flutter again, still waking up. “They are?”

“Chrissy took over wake-up calls so you could sleep in.”

“She did?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because you texted her and asked her to.”

“I did?”

“I did.” I offer her phone to her. “By the way, you really shouldn’t use your birthday as your pin code.”

Jordan props up on her elbows, her eyes wide and awake now. “You did?” she asks.

I nod.

“But… why, though?” she asks.

“Because you needed to sleep,” I say. “There’s still time for you to shower and get some food. We’ll meet you in the ballroom upstairs at nine.”

Jordan peeks beneath her blanket, curiously eying her naked body. “You put me in the bunk after…” she mutters, her memories returning.

“Yeah,” I say.

“Thank you, Bronson.”

I smile. “Take your time. I’ll make sure everyone is where they need to be.”

I move to leave, but Jordan reaches out and touches my arm. “Bronson.”

I pause.

Her eyes flit around. “We should clean the bus before people come down,” she says, looking guilty. And cute.

Cute and guilty.

I chuckle. “Already taken care of.”

“It is?”

“I used disinfecting wipes and everything.”

---