Page 72 of Don't Bang a Bandmate

Bronson rests with closed eyes. I attempt the same, but my mind runs wild. I’m not filled with thoughts of doubt or self-consciousness, however. I’m full of relief. Of gratitude. Of sheer disbelief that it actually happened.

That it actually happened with...Bronson.

I look at him silently. My heart skips as I do, my eyes wandering along his naked body.

Do I…likeBronson?

Have Ialwaysliked Bronson?

“Jordan.”

I flinch. “What?”

“What?”

“What?”

“You’re staring.”

“No, I’m not.”

He opens one eye.

“Okay,” I say. “Fine. I was.”

“Do you want to go again?” he asks. “I’m gonna need another minute or two to rest my jaw first.”

“No, no.” I breathe a laugh. “No, you’ve done enough already. I was just...”

Bronson turns his head toward me, his eyes open now.

I swallow hard. “I, uh... I was thinking... would you hold me?” I ask.

“Jordan.” He cracks a smile. “Are you saying you want to cuddle?”

“Totally cool if you say no,” I say quickly. “I know we don’t usuallycuddleafter. So, if that’s crossing a line, then?—”

Bronson opens his arms.

I smile, happily shifting closer to him. He wraps his arms around me as I fit snuggly beneath one thick arm and rest my head on his chest.

“This good?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “Thanks. Wasn’t sure if you were a cuddle guy or not.”

“Usually, no.”

“No?”

He pauses. “Sometimes, it’s nice.”

I blush, my cheeks pulsing with heat against his skin.

“You know what else is nice?” he says, his hand gently caressing my shoulder. “You lately.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I meanyou.”

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